AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

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Cleaning up after the storm took days.

Trees and all manner of branches were downed all around them, but miraculously none of them had fallen on their little shelter. In a turn of amazing luck, as well, nothing had disrupted their little garden patch.

Though Daryl had always believed in God, he hadn't always believed in miracles. He had also rarely believed that God was looking out for him in particular. After all, he'd always reasoned, would some higher being that was interested in Daryl's life and well-being allow for everything that happened to him in his life?

Now that he was spending every night sleeping with the woman that he loved—and he still tested those words on his tongue and in his mind often because it was so strange and so refreshing to be able to say them, out loud, whenever he liked—Daryl was starting to believe more in the old adage that good things come to those who wait or that there's always some kind of plan in place. He was a little bitter over the fact that he had to shovel through so many years of his shit-show life to get here, but if he had another seventy or eighty years of this, he might be willing to forgive the rest of his sorry ass life.

And that higher power, if Daryl was dedicated to attributing occurrences in his new life to the power, had left them their food, shelter, and lives. If he was searching for sunshine after the storm, he could also be thankful that they'd been left with more easily accessible firewood than they'd need for a long time.

They spent days—all four of them—working from the moment they left their beds until the moment they returned to them. They stopped for breaks when needed, they prepared food for each meal, and they laughed at each other's stories that they chose to share about their lives.

And nobody really talked about the fact that there was a twinkle in Chakotay's eyes that hadn't been there before. Nobody really talked about the fact that Daryl and Carol usually woke, now, to the sounds of their neighbors involved in some morning activities all their own.

Nobody talked about how they sat a little closer and how, every now and again, Kathryn might even rest her head against Chakotay's shoulder as they all sat and talked after their evening meal and enjoyed the flickering flames of the campfire.

Daryl wanted to say something but, so far, nobody else had said anything. There were always at least three of them together or in very close range of one another. Even when Daryl went hunting, he often went on his own to clear the traps closest to them, and he never had the opportunity to catch Chakotay off on his own. He'd wanted to simply breach the subject, but Carol had urged him not to do that. She reminded him that most people liked to talk about their relationships, but nobody liked to feel forced to talk about them. She reminded him, too, that this was new for their companions and that they seemed, in all honesty, a bit timid. They were still settling in, and Carol figured that the last thing they wanted to do was startle them into regressing a few steps backward from where they'd finally arrived.

Daryl didn't say anything because Carol didn't want him to say anything. It wasn't necessary anyway. They all knew, whether or not they discussed it over the stews that Carol was starting to master creating from their local ingredients.

After enough days of cleaning and clearing that Daryl lost count of the days in the monotony of it all, most of the mess was finally conquered. The few things that were left fell to Daryl and Chakotay to clean because they could move the logs better, and having four people involved in the process was simply a case of too many cooks in the kitchen.

As soon Daryl had his window of opportunity, he pounced on it.

"So—we gonna pretend this shit ain't official or what?" Daryl asked.

He saw the smile immediately cover Chakotay's face before he did his best to swallow it down.

"What are you talking about?" Chakotay asked.

Daryl laughed to himself.

"You know what the hell I'm talkin' about. I already told you that I'm observant. And a blind man could see the way you lookin' at each other. I ain't deaf, neither."

Chakotay smiled to himself as he helped Daryl move one of the logs to their pile.

"What do you want me to say?" Chakotay asked.

Daryl shrugged his shoulders and laughed.

"Truth is, I don't know," Daryl said. "Both of you look happy. You happy?"

"Happier than I ever thought I could be," Chakotay offered.

"Kathryn OK?" Daryl asked. "Seems to be, but…"

"She hasn't told me any differently," Chakotay said.

"Then it's good, I guess. What it ought to be. Do we have to go on pretendin' that we don't all know what the hell's goin' on or…? 'Cause that shit's gettin' kinda exhausting," Daryl said.

"I think—we can be as open as we want," Chakotay said. "There's nobody here but the four of us, after all."

"And that monkey," Daryl said, reminding Chakotay of the primate friend they had that lived near their shelter. He disappeared for days on end, but he came trotting back from time to time to watch them from a distance.

"Somehow—I don't think the monkey cares," Chakotay said.

Daryl hummed his agreement. He gestured toward another log.

"That one's small," he said. "Let's get it next. Take a break. We've got more logs here than we know what to do with."

"I might have some ideas of what to do with all of them," Chakotay offered.

"Yeah?" Daryl asked. "What?"

"Let's get that log on the pile and go check on lunch," Chakotay said. "I'd rather discuss this with everyone at the same time."

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Daryl let his hands move over Carol's back. He felt the sharp angles of her shoulder blades. He let his fingers trip down the bones of her spine. He spread his fingers over the soft skin at her hips, and he shifted her forward just a little before he moved his hands up to start the trip down again.

He could barely push them any closer together. She was already sitting in his lap. He rested against the headboard of the bed, and she sat facing him. Neither of them bothered with clothes in the quiet darkness of their room. There was nothing to be ashamed of anymore, and both of them were still sweating from the time they'd spent together only moments before. The cool bite of the air around them was welcomed for a bit longer, and then they would scramble for the blanket to trap their shared body heat.

For the time being, he was just enjoying the moment. As much as he loved sex with her, he loved the quiet moments like this just as much—though he might not ever admit that, because he was pretty sure that his brother, Merle, would have disapproved of such a thought.

"A chimney and a fireplace deep enough for a good fire," Carol said, continuing her happy musing over the home they'd discussed earlier.

"You can cook inside," Daryl agreed. "Takes out the concern about what to do when it rains. Fireplace should keep the whole place decently warm. Bedrooms'll still get cold in the winter."

Carol smiled at him. She kissed him softly. If his body wasn't so exhausted, the kiss alone would have left him seeking more of her attention. As it stood, his body simply couldn't—or wouldn't—tolerate anything more for the time being. She understood that, but she didn't think that the affection needed to end, and he was inclined to agree with her. He loved the mischievous smile she gave him when she pulled away. Her nose crinkled with the smile.

"We'll just have to make our own heat in the bedrooms," she offered.

"Chakotay and me talked about buildin' chimneys on either end of the house," Daryl said. "Fix it so that every bedroom has a fireplace. They don't have to be quite the size of the one in the livin' area, but they could be deep enough to hold a decent supply of wood for a fire that'll burn all night. Then we don't have to worry. No matter how cold it gets, we'll be ready for it."

"We'll find out about the winter soon," Carol offered. She shivered, and Daryl hugged her closer to him. He didn't know if the chill came from talking about the winter, or if it came from her body finally settling back to its normal temperature.

"Cabin won't be ready for a couple months at the very least," Daryl said. "And that's with all of us workin' an' nothin' slowin' us down. We gonna get a real taste of the winter here this year."

Carol touched his face. Her expression softened, though a hint of a smile kept the corners of her mouth somewhat turning upward.

"You look worried," she said.

"If it gets too cold," Daryl said, but he didn't finish. He didn't have to. Really, Carol required very few words from him. "I'm always worried."

She affectionately stroked his cheek.

"I'm not," she said. She laughed quietly to herself. "Don't worry. I won't let you freeze."

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"You're sure you don't want your own space," Chakotay offered.

"You mean—my own bedroom?" She asked.

Kathryn laughed to herself. She sat on the edge of the bed braiding her hair. She was wearing her blue nightgown, but it wasn't entirely buttoned. Chakotay didn't take it personally. She'd only slipped it on after they'd had sex—when he'd gone to relieve himself—because she was cold. The cold was well and truly starting to settle in around them. To try to save it, they covered up their tiny garden, each night, with the tarp that Daryl had replicated before their replicator, somewhat damaged by the storm, started to go on the fritz and only produce, correctly, about a fourth of what they required.

Chakotay was dressed, too, in the loose-fitting pajamas that he'd replicated as a barrier against the cold.

Kathryn's acceptance of the cabin and, more than that, her enthusiasm over the idea of a having a comfortably built home, spoke a great deal about the fact that she was growing content with the idea that they would call the planet home for, more than likely, the remainder of their lives.

"Are you trying to tell me something, Chakotay?" Kathryn asked after a moment. "Like—you'd rather not share a room with me?"

Chakotay laughed to himself because he could hear the teasing in her voice. He came and sat down on the bed next to her.

"Never," he said. "I meant—well, I guess I assumed that we'd stay together. I only wanted to make sure that you're not upset that we won't have a cabin that's just our own."

Kathryn considered it a long moment before she answered, and Chakotay appreciated that. He'd rest better, moving on with drawing up the plans for the cabin so that they could start to build it, if he knew that he was really doing what Kathryn wanted.

"I think it's safer for us to be together," Kathryn said. "And it's been months, Chakotay. I'm used to them. I like having them nearby."

Chakotay nodded.

"Then we'll keep them nearby," he said.

It was true. They'd spent months on the planet's surface, already, and they'd grown accustomed to one another. They were comfortable with one another in a way that only those who have nobody else can truly grow to be comfortable. Rather than feel bothered, now, in any way with the sounds that drifted through the small shelter, Kathryn and Chakotay took some happiness from knowing that their companions were healthy, happy, and enjoying their lives.

That was especially true now that Kathryn and Chakotay were finding their own settled happiness.

It was simply easy.

None of them had any unreasonable expectations for anyone else. Everything that happened around them, and between them, happened at the pace that simply seemed to be natural. The work was sometimes hard, but it was a rewarding kind of hard. Their meals were welcomed and enjoyed more than any food that Chakotay could recall—which was especially remarkable given the fact that Carol mostly made them simple stews from meat and vegetables they'd tested for toxicity—and their bed was welcoming after a hard day, even though the nights might last longer than their retirement to the bedroom indicated they would.

They would build their separate sleeping spaces connected with a communal living room in a cabin that would allow them more room to spread it. It would allow them more creature comforts—such as fires to keep them warm—and it would be sturdy and built to withstand the ion storms. After all, Chakotay wasn't inclined to believe that the ion storm they'd seen would be the last.

The cabin that they would build together would truly be their home—the start of a new life together, for all of them.