AN: Here we are, another chapter.
I'm really going to try to get this one up and running again!
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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"You clean up well, Cowboy!" B'Elanna declared as she walked into the room. The doors slid shut behind her.
She was smiling more enthusiastically than usual, and it was contagious. Even if Daryl hadn't already been smiling to the point that he felt lightheaded, he would have smiled upon seeing her.
She was wearing what he knew, by now, was a dress uniform. When Chakotay had first shown up, offering whatever services he could as a best man, Daryl had questioned him about the unfamiliar outfit, and he'd told Daryl that it was a uniform they wore for special occasions.
The first double wedding aboard Voyager was, without a doubt, a special occasion.
"You don't look so bad yourself, Klingon," Daryl said with a laugh. "Don't go gettin' too damn smitten by me, though. I'm spoken for, you know. About to be a married man."
B'Elanna laughed to herself, absorbing the joke into her already remarkably good humor for the day.
"I'm here on behalf of the brides," B'Elanna said. "The Doctor is ready to officiate. The brides are ready to be married. We're just waiting on you two."
"You can tell them we're on our way," Chakotay said. "We'll meet everyone in the mess hall."
B'Elanna nodded her head and left to convey the message.
"Ain't it the brides that traditionally arrive last?" Daryl asked, laughing to himself.
"I think you'll find that neither of us have very traditional brides," Chakotay said, his own humor bleeding through into his words.
Chakotay straightened Daryl's tie and, for a moment, it registered to Daryl how odd it was. He wasn't accustomed to having a male friend that would do something like that. And it had been a long time since he'd seen Merle in such a situation and sober enough to do anything of the sort. The last he remembered, actually, was when they'd dressed for their mother's funeral in hand-me-down suits that one of the local churches donated to them after they lost everything in the fire.
Merle had straightened Daryl's tie, then. He'd told him something he normally wouldn't say—it was OK to cry. Men shouldn't cry over foolish things, in Merle's opinion, but it was fine to cry for respectable reasons.
Daryl shook his head, physically shaking the memory out of his mind and pushing the heaviness out of his chest. He was happy today. Merle, he was sure, would have been happy for him, too.
Today he was marrying Carol—officially.
"Everything OK?" Chakotay asked.
"It'll be even better once Carol and me are married," Daryl said, nodding his head. "I guess I'm just—anxious for it to be real and official."
Chakotay smiled at him.
"I understand the feeling. Are you sure you don't mind sharing your day? Kathryn and I really have no right to impose. We could wait…"
Daryl shook his head.
"As happy as Carol looked about the whole idea of a joint wedding? Only seems right. After everything, and all on New Earth."
Chakotay nodded his agreement.
"Ready?"
"Let's go," Daryl said, laughing to himself.
The mess hall was crowded. It was crowded to the point that, really, Daryl found it difficult to focus on anything except the feeling that a sea of bodies was closing in on them and that so many lungs were drawing the air out of the room. He'd never really liked being crowded, and too many years of fearing hordes of bodies in Walker form had left him admittedly shell-shocked when it came to overwhelming numbers. He had also never really liked being the center of attention and, during their joint wedding, he felt like all eyes were on him.
He might not have made it through, honestly, without Carol to keep him grounded.
"Look at me," she'd said softly, sensing when it was becoming too much. And he had. He'd looked at her. He'd looked at how pretty she was with her hair pinned back just-so, the majority of it cascading over her shoulders. The dress she'd chosen wasn't some traditional white wedding dress. It was a simple dress—a beautiful burgundy color—and she looked happy and light, smiling at him while she held his hands.
He held her eyes, repeating vows and watching her mouth move while she repeated them. He honestly heard none of them. He didn't truly hear any of the words that were exchanged by anyone that day. He heard the pounding of his heart in his ears. And he heard, on some kind of repeat in his brain, her soft "look at me" echoing over and over in his mind.
And none of it mattered, when he did look at her, because he knew that no matter what his mouth promised, his heart promised that tenfold.
The only words he truly heard himself say came after he kissed her, pressing his forehead to hers, he found the presence of self to be able to say "I love you." He'd heard her giggle—a precious, musical, tinkling sound of sincere happiness—just before she echoed the words back to him in a way that made his whole body tingle.
Nobody else, in that moment, really mattered at all.
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Chakotay swallowed his amusement as he sunk down into the couch.
He had married a starship captain, and there were certain things that simply came with the territory. He might as well start accepting them now—before he even took off his dress uniform.
Kathryn, with her uniform top half undone and her boots off because her feet were killing her, walked around the room reading from a PADD. She'd asked for the reports, but they'd been tardy because of everything else that had been going on. The repairs, after all, following the Kazon's attempts to overtake the ship were numerous and, in some places, demanding.
"We could really use a mining planet," she mused. "At the moment, we aren't really low on basic supplies, though, and I think it might be best to avoid this planet. If long-range scans are correct, we're picking up some questionable information about the planet and the species."
"Kathryn Janeway doesn't want to explore that?" Chakotay teased.
Kathryn glanced at him and pressed her fingers to her temple. The headache, no doubt, was real. She often got them. It seemed to come with the territory of being captain. Chakotay was honestly glad to have handed those particular reins over to her.
"After everything with the Kazon," Kathryn said.
"I understand," Chakotay said when her words dropped off. "I was teasing, mostly. Kathryn—we don't need to visit that planet right now. Something doesn't seem right about it, and I agree with the reports and your interpretation of them. It's better if we simply try to slip by the system without being noticed. We'll find other planets. We'll find new sources for trading."
"What we need to find is a place that also has something to offer for shore leave," Kathryn said with a sigh. "It was evident today that the crew is in need of a release, Chakotay. Holodeck time only helps for so long. Eventually people need fresh air and the feeling of the actual ground beneath their feet."
Chakotay laughed to himself.
"And the last time we beamed down to inspect a planet for possible shore leave, we picked up our little stowaway and thought we'd be spending the rest of our lives as—as pioneers creating some knew civilization."
"Believe me," Kathryn said. "I'm not likely to forget that soon."
She laughed to herself and brushed her hand across the front of her dress uniform—a clear signal that she was talking about the baby that hadn't yet begun to make any real visible changes to her appearance.
Chakotay stood up.
"Does that mean that you're regretting everything that happened there? Because—if it hadn't been for that, we wouldn't have gotten married today. Unless—you're already regretting that, too."
She half-frowned at him. She met him, PADD still in hand, and touched his chest. Her fingers smoothed the material of his uniform.
"Is that what you think?" She asked.
"Sometimes you make me dizzy, Kathryn, trying to keep up with what I think," Chakotay admitted.
"I regret that the crew lost that time in getting home," Kathryn said. "Because I know that so many of them are anxious to be home and I know that our trip is still so long…"
Chakotay sighed. The mantle of command was heavy, and even Kathryn sometimes had to feel the pressure of it on her shoulders—especially in this situation where, honestly, she never knew when or if she'd ever be able to fully take it off.
"We may still find another way. We may find some wormhole. Some method of speeding up the trip. I'm not ready to lose hope. And it may be selfish, but if we had to lose that time for us to find this? To finally find each other? I'm not unhappy with the way that things turned out. I consider it more than a fair trade," Chakotay said, touching her shoulders and working at the eternally tight muscles he found there.
Kathryn responded by leaning affectionately against him, and Chakotay took the PADD from her hand and tossed it at the nearby table before wrapping his arms tightly around her and, stepping almost in place, dancing her around in a small swaying motion.
She laughed, quietly, in his arms.
"They're such a good crew," Kathryn said. "They're so dedicated. I just—don't want them to miss out on their lives. And now—I feel responsible for Carol and Daryl. It's at least partially our fault that they're hundreds of years away from their original lives."
"And they wouldn't go back if they had the choice," Chakotay said. "At least—I don't think they would. And the crew? They trust you to get them home. They know you'll get them there. But in the meantime? They know you'll give them the best opportunity you can to enjoy the life that they have. Just because we're onboard Voyager and lost in the Delta Quadrant, it doesn't mean that everything has to come to a halt. What we're doing? With the wedding and the baby? It's good for them. It's showing them that we meant what we said. They can have a life. We support that. We support them."
Kathryn sighed and looked at him.
"We should skip this system," Kathyrn said. "Hold Warp Seven. Try to slip by unnoticed and avoid all conflict. We'll look for the next M-Class we can find and get the crew a day or two of shore leave while we—while we learn the natives and negotiate a trade. If it's not a mining planet…"
"Then we look for a mining planet next," Chakotay said. "Now…tell Tuvok your plans, Captain, because Kathryn has other obligations."
Kathryn smiled at him.
"Go get comfortable," she said. "I'll meet you in the bedroom."
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"You gotta pick one," Daryl said.
"You pick," Carol said.
"We got three hours," Daryl said, his voice cracking slightly with frustration. "I don't wanna spend the whole thing standin' here arguin' over who's gonna pick. I want you to pick."
"I want you to be happy," Carol insisted.
"I'ma be happy if you pick!" Daryl said, his voice rising slightly. "I want you to go where you want. This is the only way I'm ever gonna be able to take you wherever you wanna go on our honeymoon."
Carol smiled. She couldn't help it. He'd gone red in the face—all the way to the tips of his ears.
Ignoring the tablet in her hand, complete with a list that B'Elanna had made them of all available holodeck programs they could visit, Carol reached up and delicately stroked her fingertips against the hair at Daryl's temple. Her fingertip bumped over the scar he'd received the day that Andrea's bullet had grazed his head—when he'd been looking for Sophia. Carol kissed her fingertips and pressed her fingers back there.
Daryl's demeanor changed. It softened. His muscles visibly relaxed. He let go of some of the tension that had clearly been building up while he waited for her to choose their honeymoon destination.
"Daryl—I want you to listen to me, OK?" Carol said. He nodded, chewing his lip. It was a clear sign to Carol that the anxiety he was building up over the whole silly thing had not quite dissipated. Her stomach tightened. They were quite the pair because, even though she felt he had no reason to be anxious, she could understand the feeling. It was ingrained in her, too. If she made the wrong decision, she would ruin this for him—she would ruin it for them both.
It wasn't true. It was just a shadow from her past. But he had shadows, too.
"I understand. Like you? I don't want to choose. And I don't want—you to be unhappy. But—I need to say this. I've been everywhere from Georgia to Virginia to…wherever the hell we were when the spaceship sucked us up." She laughed to herself. "I've been to outer space with you. To strange planets. And now we're home on a big spaceship. And it's proven one thing that I know to be true beyond anything else in this whole universe."
"Hmmmm?" Daryl hummed, maybe not ready to put voice to his question, but wanting her to continue.
Carol brushed her fingers against his cheek. He closed his eyes, savoring the touch. It made her heart beat faster.
"I would be happy anywhere—literally anywhere—as long as I'm with you."
Daryl smiled to himself and nodded.
"Me too," he said, his voice coming out somewhat gravelly as he forced out the words.
"Good," Carol said with a smile. "So—I've rounded it down. Now, you choose. What's it going to be? The beaches of Risa, which they call the pleasure planet, or…the mountains of…Phedoranium VI, the untamed planet?"
Daryl touched her face and then kissed her. She hummed her appreciation at the kiss. He smiled when it broke.
"If we don't waste no more time," he said. "I bet we can squeeze in nearly an hour and a half at both."
"That's the best honeymoon plan I've heard all day," Carol assured him, stepping forward to touch the button that would activate the computer system to take her request.
