Disclaimer: Paramount owns all things Trek, I'll be sure to return Kathryn, Chakotay and any other characters I borrow back to the right shelve with no prior memory of this incident. Thank you.

A/N: Hey! Thanks for all the encouraging reviews. I feel so nervous posting the next chapter, I dunno if it'll be any good. Anyway, fingers crossed and here goes! Also, I'm sorry I haven't updated recently, I was on holiday. I know it seems stupid for me to post a first chap three days before I went away, but I didn't think and I was so excited about posting the new story I didn't think. I'm really sorry. I'll really try not to be tardy again.

Believe in Me

Chakotay lay on the top bunk of Starfleet's London based prison. Only the prisoners termed 'extremely dangerous' were sent here. Clearly, Admiral Paris' statement that Chakotay would never harm a fly, made no difference. Even through the ruckus some of the inmates were making in the recreation room next door – probably fighting over whose turn it was to use the holodeck – he could still hear the whispers of the two inmates on the bunk below him.

"He used to be in Starfleet, I think."

"Yeah he was," whispered the other. "He's the Commander who helped bring Voyager home."

"Voyager?"

"Don't you listen to the news-vids? He's married to the red-head Captain."

"He's married to Janeway?" Asked the voice incredulously. "She's hot." He said in a low whistle.

Chakotay's fists clenched around his blanket as he maintained the slow breathing which he knew assured the two men on the bunk below of his deep slumber.

Gently he turned on his side to slip one hand under his pillow. The men stopped talking momentarily as the bed creaked, tense in case Chakotay had heard their murmurs.

Assured by the lack of movement and Chakotay's steady controlled breathing, they resumed their conversation; but Chakotay wasn't interested anymore. Instead, his attention was focused on an old-fashioned still picture of an infant which he had drawn from his hiding place.

Taya. His eyes poured over the picture, milking in every detail of the child, from the tiny fingers and toes to the crinkled eyes Tom Paris had captured so well in the photograph. The black hair was so much like his own, but the blue eyes were every bit her mother's. He only hoped they stayed that way.

Minutes, though it seemed to him it was hours later, when he was finally satisfied, did his eyes move up to the all-too-familiar image of Kathryn Janeway: His wife. He grinned at the thought. She and Taya were the only things that kept him going in this god-forsaken hell hole. He studied her as he had his daughter. Although, more familiar than the infant she didn't seem any less distant. His heart broke, as he noted the tired expression behind her eyes, smiling down at the baby. Not recently settled there because of the hours of child birth she had been through, but from the weeks before as well, when she had been hounded by the press: hounded by the press because of him. He felt angry that he had caused this burden, but now he wanted nothing more than to reach into the frame and help ease her pain and hurt. He wanted to be there for her as he had promised he would be all those years ago.

He remembered reading in the newspaper of her desire to get rid of the child and recalled praying that it was just a mere rumour. A rumour concocted by the press to create excitement. He was quite sure it was, but a small part of him was weary. Kathryn was hurting and when she was upset she did unlikely things. Things she would later regret, but which he knew seemed to her at that time perfectly sensible. Believe in me Kathryn, he remembered whispering silently to himself; hoping wherever she was she would hear him. Believe in me, just like you did all those years ago.

"Chakotay? What is she telling me? Is this true?" The questions tumbled out of her mouth before we was even aware of them. She stared at her husband on the opposite end of the room in disbelief. "Chakotay?" She said incredulously. Was this the man who had sworn allegiance to her years before she had even begun to trust him?

He regarded her coolly. For a moment there was nothing there, no love, no hate and no trust. She couldn't read him. What was happening?

"God!" She gasped as she backed away from him. "No!" She reached out for the bedside table to steady herself as she gazed at the man she had promised to spend the rest of her life with only earlier today. "You slept with her when we were engaged." She spoke the statement softly. For a moment she didn't even feel like herself. This wasn't supposed to happen to her, she had trusted him, believed him like she had no other. Her eyes widen, God, how many times had she placed her life in his hands. Her hand clutched her chest as though she was trying to hold back everything she had given to him.

Chakotay tore his eyes off the tall blonde in front of him long enough to look a shaken Kathryn in the eye. The pain there so clear, her eyes were cracked glass, untainted by the Captain's mask she so often hid behind. Is this what was going to happen? Had he chased after the "Ice Maiden" so long just to ruin it on their night of utter bliss and happiness?

He sensed the blonde move and swiveled back to face her, edging slowly to Kathryn, yet keeping his eyes on the flaxen women. Her face was expressionless, her stance confident, as she eyed her prey casually. It was a gaze that would and had sent many a cadet scouring from the Academy. A gaze Captain Janeway had conquered before.

Why would Seven do this? Chakotay wondered. When he had left her a year ago, she seemed unfazed by his actions and untouched by his confession that he had not loved her, but in fact had loved her close imitation of her mentor.

"Did – You – Have – The – Affair -Chakotay?" the Captain's voice sliced through the tension in the room. Venom dripped from her tongue.

"Kathryn, no." Chakotay shook his head, how could she even think that of him.

"Then tell me what happened that night Chakotay? Because I can tell," her voice rang clear, though her body shook, "I can tell …that something did happen."

He looked into her eyes once more; the connection back in place. She cursed him silently, more so herself for allowing him to hold her again.

"It was a week before the wedding."

She shuddered. He told this exactly as he did their ancient legend.

"And we were all at the Paris' House. You, I and ... and she invited me to the porch for a… quiet word. I thought nothing of it. Then..." It was his turn to shudder as the memory played in his head and her natural instinct to grasp his arm to calm him. "Then, she ran her hand down my chest and said that I had passed out on a brilliant offer. And she told me how she was so much better than you were …than what you could ever being." The memory of Seven's cold finger running down the side of his head was too much. He paused. Oh! This was such a mess! He felt numb; his heart was racing so fast he couldn't even feel it. His next instinct was to throw up, but he took one look at Kathryn and forced the bile down. And as usual he drew his strength from her. He needed for go on for her – for them.

"I was angry Kathryn, I wasn't thinking. She was repeating it so many times. I pulled her towards me," His voice caught. "I pulled her towards me." He needed Kathryn to understand what he was saying. "And kissed her… roughly. And asked her… 'Is that what you really want - to live unloved and desperate?'… and I flung her against the wall." He was a guilty child again, crying as he retold the tale of how he broke the window to his mother. "And left…" He trailed off. "…I left."

"What the Commander left out, was that he asked me to meet him the next night in Musky Motels, where we… carried on where we left off." Seven's cold voice pierced the room for the first time since her accusation.

"Kathryn – I never…" Chakotay opted for the truth, but Kathryn sat there expressionless, her eyes were hollow. Where there had once been blue green swimming pools, there were instead black endless tunnels.

"Don't you believe me Kathryn? Believe me, I love you. I would never hurt you. Spirits! Don't you see that? We've got this far." He was desperate now that he could see he was loosing Kathryn and might never get her back." I WILL NOT LET HER RUIN THIS FOR US!" So what if he lost Kathryn now, not all was lost - Seven would pay.

He lunged for Seven to find himself being stopped half way: stopped by fragile arms as they circled round him to hold him back.

"I believe you Chakotay." Her voice was soft: husky even. Her eyes more a melted pool of sea green then even.

He sunk to the floor and pulled Kathryn with him. As she held his shaking body she turned to her nemesis, "Leave us," she told Seven. "GET OUT!" The vigor of the scream caused her body to shake.

"You will be brought down Kathryn Janeway. I underestimated you Admiral, but one day conviction alone will not get you anywhere. I warn you, resistance is futile."

Kathryn sat cross legged on the beg, clutching Taya's teddy bear close to her as though it were her comfort plaything instead. The incident two years ago was unsullied in her head, she was glad she had stuck by Chakotay and that incident only reinforced her belief the she needed to stick by him once more now.

The chronometer beeped. She stuffed Bear into the duffle before her and zipped it up. Quietly she gathered up a sleeping Taya, holding the child close to her knowing that the closure would keep the infant silenced. She strode through the living room, powerfully, yet silently passing the mantelpiece; now void of one photo.

She didn't even look back at the hiss of the door closing behind her. Mark was anything but a light sleeper. She looked to the sky, searching patiently until her eyes sought a miniscule black shape: A miniscule shape which grew darker in the purple African sunset. The thrusters set on silent, Tom Paris waved to his former Captain as he set down in front of her Indiana home.

She grinned back, properly for the first time in days and waited patiently for the hatch to open. Oh, security and safety at last. She could have fallen to her knees in thankful prayer to the spirits there and then, but instead she took a deep breath and never stopped to look back at the prison she and her child had been confined in for months… until the lights flashed on and yet another shuttle appeared, sailing down from nowhere as silent and as coolly as Lieutenant Paris had done. This time, her heart felt no joyor lightness. All her thoughts of thankful prayer were gone as she attempted to stumblethe last few stepsinto the shuttle.

"Just where do you think you're going?"

Tbc…

A/N: Argh! I have no idea how that went. I tired to capture everyone's emotions as well as I could, but I'm not sure if I wrote it as clearly to depict the pain… let me know what you think… flames always welcome as well. (Better to know what you're doing wrong than to live in ignorance – LoL – look who's all serious today. It's oddly unlike me)