2
The lake was calm, like a silver gray blanket rippling softly. Except for the occasional lonely cry of a loon and the gentle lapping of the water against the rocks at the lake shore, the beach was completely silent. Chakotay took in a deep breath of the evening air and decided Kathryn was right; the place was refreshing.
He had spent a week at Starfleet Medical under the watchful eye of Dr. Crusher, who had gently coaxed him out of bed and helped him begin to walk again. She and her staff had introduced him to numerous painful and annoying physical therapy exercises, but he couldn't deny their effectiveness. After a week, he was able to walk with only a cane. He knew that a couple of hundred years earlier, his condition would have been hopeless, or taken months if not years of recovery, and he found himself feeling grateful for the marvels of modern medicine as well as Beverly Crusher's kind yet stern bedside manner, always mixed in with a dash of humor.
He had arrived at Lake George the day before, and while Kathryn had been beyond courteous and had shown him around the property, given him his own bedroom, and told him to make himself at home, she had largely kept her distance aside from replicating a meal for both of them for dinner. She had replicated vegetable biryani and assured him that she had a much better relationship with the replicator at Lake George than she'd had with her replicator on Voyager. She had also impressed him by making salads for them from vegetables she had grown in her own garden. The dinner had been delicious, and for a while, he had felt like they were back on Voyager, sharing one of their weekly dinners. They talked about their former crew, and she filled him in on many of their exploits and adventures over the last ten years. He listened with great interest and found that while, at one time, he had done everything he could to get away from all memories of Voyager, now, news of his former crew was comforting to hear.
"They would all love to see you, Chakotay," she had said with a touch of emotion in her voice that he couldn't quite identify.
He hadn't known how to reply, so he'd said nothing. B'Elanna, Tom and Miral, Ayala and Dalby had all come to visit him at Starfleet Medical. His emotions around Voyager and her crew were hard to explain, even to himself. He had many good memories of his time on Voyager. In fact, in many ways, those years had been the best time of his life. He had found peace in the Delta Quadrant that he had never experienced before or since.
He had tried to make things work for himself after their return to the Alpha Quadrant. He had tried to make things work for his career. He had tried to make things work with Seven. He had tried to make a life for himself, but no matter how hard he tried, he always fell short. He'd found himself drifting, unhappy, dissatisfied, and uncertain, and he hadn't been able to see a way to stay where he was and change those things. But he also hadn't known how to explain himself or how to say goodbye to everyone he knew.
He guessed that they would all respond as B'Elanna had when he had tried to explain it to her. "I'm sure you can find something to do here. What about going back to teaching at the Academy? Or an anthropology dig? And as far as a relationship goes? I'm sure there are plenty of women who'd be interested in you, and if you can't figure that out, you're a bigger p'tak than I thought."
He hadn't known how to tell her that his dissatisfaction wasn't about those things, hadn't known how to explain to her why he had to leave. So he just did. He got rid of most of his worldly belongings, except a small bag of clothes, his copy of Dante's Inferno, a gift from Janeway, and his medicine bundle, and booked a transport off of Earth. Then, he had met Eleni, and for a brief period of time, he'd found some happiness with her on Yadozi, but that had ended with her death. When Sveta had contacted him several months later about helping to build the settlement on Bokara III, he had jumped at the chance to do something that was meaningful and useful. But, once again, nothing had quite worked out the way he had planned.
Now, he sat in a chair down by the lake, his cane at his side. A loon let out a long, mournful call from somewhere nearby, and then the lake fell silent again. Even when he struggled to hear a sound, he could only hear the occasional gentle splashing of the water on the rocks. After spending time on Bokara III, and the past week at Starfleet Medical, where there was constant noise and activity, the silence was a welcome change. He felt he could hear his own thoughts for the first time in a long time.
He and Kathryn had just eaten their second dinner together in as many days. Her company was welcome, but strange, too. There had been a time when he would have given anything for so much time alone with her. Now, he felt he didn't know what to do with it and worried he was an imposition. She insisted that he was welcome, but he knew all about her sense of duty to those under her command and feared that he was just another obligation for her. As soon as he had recovered, he vowed to himself that he would return to Bokara III to continue to help with the construction there, even if he wasn't as able-bodied as he had once been.
Still, the atmosphere at Lake George was refreshing and beautiful, and he was grateful for the fresh, clean air. After spending so many years living on a desert planet, he found the green grass, tall trees, and vast lake a balm to his soul. He felt like a man who had been dying of thirst and hadn't even known it until he had been offered a sip of water.
Ever since he had awakened from his coma, he had dreamed of the little golden bird, the road, and the lake several times but was at a loss as to what the dream meant. The night before, he could have sworn the bird in his dream wanted him to get in the lake, but he had hesitated in the dream, and then finally awoken.
The evening sky was covered with gray clouds, and he knew that although the sun would soon go down, there would be no sunset to watch that night. The water shimmered silver gray as a loon appeared, coming up from under the water and then diving down again. The bird made the lake look inviting, and Chakotay, driven by a sudden impulse, grabbed his cane, leaning heavily on it to stand. He limped down to the beach, to the edge of the water, and, carefully bending his knees, he knelt down, placing his hand in the water to touch it, palm down, until his entire hand was immersed. The lake water was soft and cool. The tip of his cane digging into the sand, he pushed himself back up to a standing position and touched his wet fingers against his forehead. As he did so, he could swear he could hear the little golden bird from his dream singing her song.
=/\=
The forest around her was unfamiliar, the air hot and damp. Vines hung from the trees, and large, leafy foliage covered the ground. Animal sounds she had never heard before and exotic bird calls filled her ears. She looked around, trying to get her bearings. On a stone nearby, she saw the green lizard. The creature looked at her, swished its tail and then began to move through the dense underbrush. The lizard paused after a few steps, looking back at her, as if beckoning her to follow him. She did, trying to keep her eyes on the small, bright green shape darting over plants and rocks. Two more times, the lizard stopped, making sure she was close behind. She followed as quickly as she could until they reached a clearing. Then, the lizard disappeared into the forest.
In the clearing, she saw an elderly man with longish grey hair wearing a brown fedora. She didn't know him, yet she instantly felt comfortable with him. "Hello," she said.
"Hello," the man greeted her, turning around, unsurprised to see her there. "I thought I'd see you here, sooner or later."
"Really?" she asked. "How did you know?"
The man shrugged. "Just a guess." He sat down on a large rock and gestured to another rock nearby, inviting her to sit with him, which she did. The man had dark, kind eyes and a smile that reminded her of someone she knew.
"Do I know you?" she asked.
He shook his head. "But I know you. And I know you're a little bit confused right now. I know that you don't know what to do about Chakotay."
"You know Chakotay?"
"Believe me, there were times when I didn't know what to do about him, either. He has always been such a contrary. I can remember once when he was a child, he promised his mother that he would go out and pick enough arpikutiq berries so that she could make his sister's favorite pie for her birthday. He must've been about eight years old, and he insisted on going alone. He'd been berry picking with his sisters many times, and we allowed him to go by himself. While he was picking the berries, he was bit by a poisonous snake, but, determined to pick all the berries his mother needed and afraid to admit to us what had happened, he returned with the berries and hid his pain until he became very ill and almost died."
"What did you do?"
"We took him to a healer, and we prayed. Thank the spirits, he was fine. I tried to teach him that there's no shame in asking for help, that sharing one's pain is often the best way to heal, and that being strong doesn't always mean standing alone, but he's such a contrary that sometimes I think if I had tried to teach him the opposite, he would have learned better." The old man looked at her ruefully. "Maybe you'll have better luck than I did, young lady."
She opened her mouth to ask another question, but the man was gone.
Kathryn awoke with a start. She turned over in her bed to look at the chronometer. 0735. Sunlight was streaming in her bedroom window, and the sky had obviously cleared from the cloudiness of the previous day. Her mind was fuzzy, and she felt that she'd had an unusual dream, but she couldn't remember anything about it. Shaking off the strange feeling, she dressed and went into the kitchen to make coffee. As she looked out the large windows, she saw that Chakotay was already sitting on the deck. While she'd largely left him to his own devices since his arrival, she decided suddenly not to do the same today.
She made a pot of coffee and fixed two cups, one black, and one with cream and two sugars. She slid open the door to the deck with the two steaming mugs in her hand, closed the door behind her with her foot and said, "Good morning."
"Good morning," he replied, obviously surprised by her presence, and then surprised even more by the hot cup of coffee that was pressed into his hand. "Thank you."
The morning air was crisp and cool. The sun shone down through the trees, and a brown squirrel skittered across the yard. She smiled, sitting down in the deck chair next to his. "Coffee is always better when shared."
Instead of putting him at ease, her comment seemed to make him uncomfortable. "Kathryn, I've been thinking, maybe I should look for a hotel or an apartment to rent closer to Starfleet Medical. I feel like I'm an awful inconvenience to you here."
"Chakotay, you've been here three days and I've barely even seen you. I don't see how that could be called an inconvenience." She paused and looked at him closely. "Unless you don't want to be here."
"No, it's not that. I just…" He trailed off, not knowing what to say. The silence hung in the air between them for a long time as they searched for words.
Kathryn took a sip of her coffee and then spoke softly. "I didn't invite you to stay here because I felt like I had to. It's not a burden, having you here."
He looked at her in disbelief, still not speaking.
"When you were in your coma," she continued, her voice still soft, "I spoke to you a lot. It wasn't until after you woke up that I realized you hadn't heard anything that I had said."
Chakotay thought back to the time before he had woken up and shook his head. He couldn't remember hearing any words or voices, only the sound of the golden bird's song.
"I've had a lot of time to think over the past few years," she said, looking out at the lake instead of looking at him. Somehow, it was harder to say now that she knew he could hear her. "Especially since I resigned from Starfleet." She glanced over at him and offered a small smile. "Don't worry, I'll tell you the whole story again now that you're awake." Another pause. Another sip of coffee, and another moment of silence. "I've thought a lot about Voyager and what happened to all of us after it ended. I've thought a lot about you and Seven, and whether there was anything I could have done to ensure your happiness together."
Chakotay shook his head again. "Nothing that happened between me and Seven was your fault."
"I know that now, but at the time I felt responsible for all of you, and old habits die hard." It was true for both of them, it seemed. "But this isn't about me feeling responsible for you. When Sveta called me to tell me about your accident, I was shocked. I had spent most of the last several years accepting that you had moved on and that I would never see you again. And then I was standing by your hospital bed, being told that my talking to you might help you wake up, and that there was a possibility you would never recover at all. So I started talking, and when I started talking, I realized how much I'd missed you all these years." Her voice caught in her throat, and she had to swallow hard to keep her emotions down. "But I also knew that the most important thing to me was for you to wake up, and even if that meant you left and I'd never see you again, just knowing that you were awake and healthy would be good enough for me. And now you are. So if you want to go, you're welcome to go, and I won't ask you for anything else. I asked you for too much out there." She gestured to the sky, a vague wave of her hand seeming to encompass the entire galaxy.
He was moved by her speech but unable to match her eloquence, so all he said was, "No."
"No?"
"No, I don't want to go."
She smiled. "That's good enough for me." She reached across the small table between their chairs and extended her hand in a gesture they'd once shared on Voyager's bridge many years earlier. His hand grasped hers across the table, and he squeezed her fingers before releasing his grip. "How are you feeling today?" she asked.
"Better," he said. "You were right. There is something about this place."
"It's healing. Some of it is just being surrounded by nature, I think. It's very peaceful and quiet. It allows you hear your own thoughts."
Chakotay turned his head to look at her in surprise.
She continued, "When I was trying to decide whether or not to resign from Starfleet, I came here quite often to think. I don't think I'd ever had so much quiet in my life, but I realized then that I enjoyed it. The quiet, the nature, the sunshine, the lake, they helped me find peace within myself, in a way." She noticed Chakotay's expression of incredulity. "What?"
"Those aren't words I ever thought I'd hear you say. You've changed, Kathryn."
"Ten years is a long time. The world changed. Starfleet changed. Everything around me changed. I found myself in a situation where I could either spend my life being unhappy, or I could change, too. I struggled with it for a long time, and I don't think I realized how unhappy I'd become in Starfleet until after I got out." She reached across the gap between them and touched his arm. "The years we had on Voyager were hard, but they were good ones."
He nodded, surprised by how her thoughts seemed to mirror his own from the previous night. "Some of the best."
They lapsed into silence, sipping their coffee and looking out at the lake, both lost in their own memories. When Kathryn had emptied her cup, she turned to him. "I was thinking, how about a boat ride?"
"I'm not sure how much use I'd be to you on the sailboat these days."
She shook her head. "We'll wait for the sailboat until you're a little stronger, but there's a motor boat down in the boathouse." She gestured to the small building that was nestled amongst the trees and opened directly onto the lake. "I can pull it right up to the dock, and it's not too hard to step down from the dock into the boat."
He hesitated for a moment, but when he saw the eager look in her eyes, he couldn't help but grin. "Sure." He looked down at his long pants and sweater, which he had put on for the cool morning air. "I'm not sure these are appropriate boating clothes. I'll go change."
"Good," Kathryn replied. "Meet me down at the dock in half an hour." While Chakotay hobbled into his room to change, Kathryn went into the kitchen to pack a couple of peanut butter sandwiches and a thermos of lemonade. As she did so, she thought about all the times that Chakotay had made sure she ate, had her coffee, and rested. He had done so much during those seven years to make her life easier, much of which she had only realized in retrospect, after he had disappeared from her life. She felt that she now had the opportunity to repay him and be the one to make his life easier.
She took the simple picnic with her down to the boathouse where she opened the door and activated the pulley system that lowered the boat into the water. She held the bow of the boat as it descended and then began to roll down the wheeled ramp that led directly into the lake. When it had reached the water level, she jumped over the bow of the boat and walked aft to the steering wheel. She turned the key, activating the boat's motor, and steered it slowly backwards out of the small inlet that led to the boathouse. When she pulled around the inlet to the dock in front of her house, Chakotay was standing there waiting for her, wearing tan slacks and a short-sleeved shirt. He still had his cane, but he wasn't leaning on it as heavily as he had been a couple days earlier. She idled the motor and pulled up alongside the dock, grabbing one of the dock posts to pull the boat close enough that he could step in. The back of the boat was almost even with the dock, which made it easy for him to step over onto the rear platform. She offered him her hand to step down onto the deck of the boat, but he shook his head, used his cane, and managed to take the shaky step by himself.
"You can choose your seat," she said, gesturing to the options. "Front, back or co-pilot."
"Maybe I'll sit up front," he said, ambling towards the bow of the boat. The boat's windshield flipped open in the middle, allowing passengers to sit in cushioned seats at the boat's nose.
Kathryn sat in the driver's seat and backed away from the dock as Chakotay got settled. She loved driving the boat out into the lake, and after driving slowly away from the shore, she kicked the motor into high gear and set the boat off at a high speed, leaving a foaming white wake behind them. Chakotay looked at her, surprised at first, but then he smiled at her and let his head fall back against the cushions, enjoying the wind in his face.
Since her teenage years, Kathryn had enjoyed the exhilaration of being behind the wheel of a sleek, fast boat. This particular boat had belonged to her father, and while she'd had some work done to refurbish it over the past year, it was essentially the same boat she had grown up on. She was comfortable with the controls, the steering wheel, and the way it handled. She knew exactly how fast she had to go to get the nose to level off, and she zoomed across the water, smiling at the sun in her face. She made a turn around a small island and then headed for a bigger bay with more open water.
As she drove, she watched Chakotay, laid back, relaxed. He was smiling, his face tilted up to the sun, and she felt that the age lines on his skin had disappeared, that there was no trace of the haunted, uncertain man she had seen the past several days. Instead, he appeared to her as a young, strong, vibrant, and happy man. She saw the man who had stood by her side for seven years, fiercely protected her, sometimes fought with her, the man who had built her a bathtub and tried to make her feel at home on a faraway planet. She saw a warrior and a peacemaker, a man she had seen full of loving kindness and full of rage. She thought that this image of him, sun on his face, sprawled out across the boat cushions, smiling, was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.
She slowed her speed and let the boat come to a stop in the center of the bay. She turned off the motor and walked up to the front to join him. As he had felt their speed decrease, he had lifted his head and opened his eyes. He was watching her intently, and she saw his eyes follow the line of her sundress from her neck all the way down to the bottom hem. She sat down across from him.
"This is wonderful," he said. "Thank you."
She grinned. "I love driving the boat. I remember when my father first taught me how. I must have been eleven or twelve."
He laughed. "I can picture that. I guess you liked coming here more than you liked those camping trips you had to go on."
"Oh, yes, much more."
"When I was very young, my brothers and sisters and I used to play in the nearby river, but it wasn't big enough for a boat."
Her mind flashed to the boat he had once planned to build. "I don't imagine there's many rivers on Yadozi," she said.
"None at all. At least not naturally occurring."
"Tell me about it."
"Yadozi was hot. A desert. Nothing like this."
She watched him, saw the shadow on his face return and almost regretted the line of questioning. But she also sensed that they had to talk about it, sooner or later, and that maybe it would make things less awkward between them if they did.
"I went there because Eleni asked me to," he finally continued.
"Was Eleni your wife?"
"No. But we were together for a few years. I was trying to be happy. Before she died."
"But you weren't happy?" Kathryn asked.
Chakotay didn't answer the question. "After she died, I felt that there was nowhere else for me to go, nothing else for me to do. So I stayed there. Until Sveta called me and asked me to come to Bokara III."
Kathryn let the statement hang in the air for a moment before she asked what she really wanted to know. "Chakotay, why did you leave all those years ago without even saying goodbye?"
He thought for a long time before he answered. He had thought about that question himself, from time to time, over the years, when he had permitted the thought. The truth was, he didn't really have a good answer for her. At the time, he hadn't felt like he had a lot of options. Finally, he said, "I guess it felt like the easiest thing to do at the time. I'm sorry."
She thought about telling him how hurt Harry and B'Elanna had been, and of Tom's anger. She thought about telling him of all the sleepless nights she had spent wondering if he was all right. She thought about telling him that she had felt that she should have done more to ensure his happiness and ensure a good life for him once they returned to Alpha Quadrant, but she had been so occupied with other things that she had not paid him much attention. But she didn't say any of those things. Instead, she said, "It's long past now," which was true.
"Still, you were my friend, and you deserve an apology."
His use of the past tense stung, and she attempted to shift the conversation. "What do you think you'll do when you've fully recovered?"
"I think I'll go back to Bokara III, continue to help with the rebuilding there."
She nodded her understanding, trying to hide any disappointment she might feel. "I hope that this time, you won't leave without saying goodbye."
He looked up at her and saw a vulnerability in her face that she'd seldom allowed him to see on Voyager. He felt a sudden urge to embrace and comfort her, but instead of doing that, he leaned forward and grasped her hand. "I won't, Kathryn. I promise."
"Good," she said, trying to swallow down her emotions. "I hope that we can stay in touch."
"I'll make sure of it."
She squeezed his hand. "Do you think that ten years is too long, or can two old people rebuild a friendship after that much time?"
He looked at her, first in surprise, and then smiled and kept his fingers intertwined with hers. "Yes, I think they can."
They remained there for a long moment, fingers entwined, looking at each other, before the moment became too intense, and Kathryn broke away to bring out the peanut butter sandwiches and lemonade. They ate and talked and laughed, and it almost seemed as though a dam had broken between them.
Chakotay asked about the Lake George property and its history, and Kathryn spoke about the many generations it had been in her family. She talked about summers at the lake as a child. He spoke about growing up on Trebus. Both managed to find stories they had never told each other before, and they laughed and talked for most of the afternoon. The sun was low in the sky by the time Kathryn drove the boat back to the boat house, this time at a slower speed as they continued to talk and laugh, reminiscing about the past, telling each other stories and generally enjoying each other's company.
When they arrived back at the house, Kathryn pulled up alongside the dock to allow Chakotay to easily exit the boat, although during most of the day, she had completely forgotten about his injuries. She slowly drove around to the boathouse and drove the boat inside, activating the lift that raised it up out of the water so it wouldn't float away. As she peered over the side of the boat to jump down to the ground, she was surprised to find Chakotay standing there, cane in one hand, his other hand outstretched to help her down. She took the proffered hand and hopped down out of the boat. As her feet touched the ground, her eyes met his, and they smiled at each other, old friends rediscovering what made the other so wonderful.
That night, Chakotay insisted on cooking dinner, even though Kathryn worried that it might be too much for him after all of their activity that day. "You made lunch," he quipped, "and drove the boat. The least I can do is make dinner for you."
So she let him, and they ate at the small table on the deck. The meal was delicious, and Kathryn felt glad she had agreed to let him cook. The day had been sunny, but not too hot, and there were a few clouds littering the sky. After she had done the dishes, Kathryn told Chakotay, "I'm going to go down to the dock to watch the sunset."
"Would you mind if I join you?" he asked.
"Be my guest." They walked down to the dock together and she pulled two chairs out for them. Usually, she sat on the dock's wooden slats when she watched the sun go down, but she thought that would be too difficult for Chakotay.
The lake was calm, a barely rippling film of silver and gold, and there was almost no breeze at all. The sun cast a golden stream along the still water. The sky was a perfect hue of blue that became lighter the closer one looked to the horizon. A single long, thin band of periwinkle clouds hovered above the trees on the western shore, and the sun glowed brightly as it sank first behind the streak of clouds and then below it, casting a thin band of gold in the sky across the horizon and making the bottoms of the clouds appear to glow. There was no sound but the gentle whooshing of the water up against the sandy beach.
As the sun started to dip below the tree line, neither person sitting on the dock spoke. Both were transfixed by the beauty and peacefulness of nature. The band of color on the horizon shifted from a bright yellow gold to a glowing orange. A breeze blew through the air, causing some waves to wash up on the shore. At the end of a dock, a spider crawled around a perfectly formed spider web. When the sun sank completely behind the clouds, they began to turn lavender and pink.
Chakotay glanced to his right where Kathryn was sitting in her chair, transfixed by the sunset. Her eyes were bright and full of hope, and he thought she didn't look a day older than the day they had first met. There was a glow about her that he remembered from the early years of their journey but had only seen occasionally in the later ones. In spite of himself, he thought she was beautiful. She must have sensed his eyes on her, because she turned to look at him. Their eyes met, and she held his gaze for a long moment, as if in challenge, before looking back at the now pink and lavender sky.
A few minutes later, he saw her rubbing her hands together. "Chilly?" he asked.
"A little."
And while he found himself wanting to wrap his arms around her and warm her, he felt that under the circumstances it wouldn't be appropriate. So instead, he suggested that they go inside. He walked with his cane up to the house while she put away the chairs and followed him. He hoped that at his appointment in two days, Dr. Crusher would permit him to get rid of the cane altogether. It made him feel old. And for the first time in years, Chakotay didn't feel old at all.
=/\=
Two days later, Kathryn prepared a salad for lunch while she waited for Chakotay to come home from Starfleet Medical. It had been the first time she had seen him excited to go, and she had wondered why, but hadn't asked him about it, knowing that if he had some news, he would tell her when he was ready.
Their relationship had shifted in the last few days since their frank conversation on the boat. Chakotay seemed more at ease and more comfortable around her. They had started joking around and teasing each other like they had in the years they had first known each other. The previous night in the kitchen, she had been helping him chop vegetables, and he'd made a big show of having to move around her in the kitchen. As he'd moved past her, he'd pressed the length of his body against hers, and it had sent an unexpected chill down her spine and heat to her core. She hadn't been able to tell if the gesture was purposeful or not, for he'd simply resumed teasing her about the lack of consistency in her chopped vegetables. She'd started to wonder whether he still intended to return to Bokara III after his recovery was complete, or whether he might be considering other possibilities.
She'd been surprised when she had awoken in the middle of the night after an extremely intense dream about him. You're too old for that kind of thing, she had admonished herself after getting a cold glass of water and climbing back into bed. Besides, it's Chakotay. You missed that opportunity a long time ago. You're just friends, nothing more. She reiterated those thoughts to herself now as she put chives and tomatoes from her garden into the salad.
Just then, she heard a voice call, "Hello!" as the door of the screen porch swung open with a bang.
"Hello," she called back, and was surprised to see Chakotay stride in off the porch on his own two feet, no cane in hand.
"Your cane?" she queried, almost afraid to ask.
"Dr. Crusher says I don't need it anymore," he replied happily. "I'm well enough to walk on my own."
"Oh, Chakotay, that's wonderful!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him for a big hug. His arms enfolded her tightly until she broke away, her face suddenly crestfallen. "Does this mean you'll be leaving for Bokara?"
"No, I still have another week of physical therapy, at least."
"Well, congratulations," she said, forcing her emotions down. "I'm so glad you've made such a fast recovery. I'm sure Beverly is very happy."
"You've been a part of that, too," he said, catching her hand as she turned away from him. "In fact, I think being here with you has helped my recovery so much that maybe I ought to stay a little longer." He paused. "That is, if I'm invited."
"Of course, you're invited. My life will be terribly boring when you go."
Chakotay discovered in that moment that the idea of leaving Lake George and returning to Bokara III didn't sound that appealing to him either. "I certainly wouldn't want you to be bored," he replied. "After all, who will tease you when I'm not here?"
"Or annoy me with incessant commentary about my cooking?" she added dryly. "Speaking of which, there's a salad for lunch."
"All right, let me wash up."
When they sat down to eat, Chakotay filled Kathryn in on the rest of the details of his appointment at Starfleet Medical. He told her he had also taken time to speak to Tom and B'Elanna, and had sent messages to Harry Kim, Seven of Nine, and the Doctor. He seemed more energetic than she had seen him since the accident, and she enjoyed seeing his renewed vigor. When they had finished their salads, she said, "Now that you don't have your cane anymore, maybe we can light the sauna."
"I thought you were going to make me beg," he teased.
"Hmm." She pretended to think it over. "Maybe I should." They both laughed, and then she said, "I'll light it after lunch."
"I'll help."
"I don't want you to overexert yourself," she warned.
"Kathryn, it's lighting a fire, not running a marathon."
She rolled her eyes. "Fine."
Chakotay had first heard about the wood burning sauna at Lake George when Kathryn had taken him sailing on her Lake George holodeck program on Voyager. She had told him about the ancient steam bath built by her great-great-grandfather and had explained to him in detail about lighting the wood fire, which heated the sauna room as well as a trough of rocks. Once the sauna was hot, you could sit inside in the heat as well as throw water on the rocks to create steam. After one was hot enough, the tradition was to run and jump in the cold lake. He wasn't sure he'd be doing any running or jumping yet, but he was looking forward to seeing how the steam bath really worked.
By the time he had finished cleaning the kitchen, Kathryn had already brought kindling and a few logs from the woodshed down to the sauna. He walked down the steps that led from the screen porch to the sauna where Kathryn was kneeling and adding paper and kindling to a stone stove with a metal door. He knelt right beside her and leaned forward, so close that he could smell her shampoo and the faint scent of her perfume. "What are you doing now?" he asked.
Kathryn shivered at the sensation of Chakotay's breath in her ear and his body so close behind hers. She had to fight to keep her tone neutral. "I'm building a fire." Then she turned to look at him with a grin. "If I recall, that's something you have trouble with."
He was not expecting the jab, but he rolled with it, and instead of recoiling in feigned offense, he leaned in closer. "I think you'll find that I have no trouble starting a fire."
She laughed at his innuendo and lit a match, which she then held under the paper. Soon, the kindling was starting to smolder and smoke. She poked at it with a metal poker, and before long, she had a fire going. She used the poker to partially close the metal door on the stove.
Chakotay stood first and offered her his hand to help her up. She showed him the damper on the metal pipe inside the sauna and explained how it had to be tilted once the fire got going, or else the sauna wouldn't heat. The inside of the sauna smelled faintly of old smoke and char, but it was a good smell. There were three benches inside to sit on and an assortment of buckets, pots, and pans. There was a wooden door that separated the hot room from the changing room, and as Kathryn sauntered out ahead of him, she turned back to look at him and said, "Did I ever tell you that the original sauna tradition was to go in the nude?"
The comment caught Chakotay by surprise, and he wasn't sure if the sound that emerged from him was a cough or a laugh, but he quickly got his bearings and retorted, "Sounds like a good tradition."
She rolled her eyes at him again. "Don't get your hopes up."
He grinned back at her with a devilish grin, not sure how far he could push the teasing. "It won't be just my hopes that are getting up if we follow that tradition."
Now, she did laugh heartily. "Chakotay, I never knew you'd turn into a dirty old man."
He put on a wounded expression. "And just who are you calling old?" There was more laughter as she added more wood to the fire, and he stood back to watch her. He admired her skill at building the fire and marveled at how comfortable she seemed to be in this environment. He'd only seen her like this once before, and while it was a memory he didn't recall often, it was definitively a happy one. "I'm sure there must be a faster way to heat it," he said.
"Getting impatient already?"
"No, I was just thinking that this isn't very 24th century of you."
She added a few more pieces of kindling and stood back herself. "I suppose it's not, but I find it very satisfying. It's almost comforting, somehow, like a ritual, I guess. And yes, there are thermal injectors and all kinds of more modern ways to heat a sauna, but if I did that, it wouldn't be the same. It wouldn't smell the same. It wouldn't feel the same."
"I'm not criticizing you," Chakotay said. "It's nice to see you so happy." He paused. "And I am looking forward to experiencing a real, authentic sauna."
"Well, you'll have to be a little more patient," Kathryn replied. "It will take at least an hour to heat up."
Chakotay nodded and went back to his room to rest for a while. He wasn't used to walking without the cane yet, and, although he would never admit it to Kathryn, he was afraid he'd get tired before the day was over. He read a book and rested, and after the hour had passed, changed into his swim trunks and made his way back down to the sauna. He was surprised when he opened the door to the steam room to find Kathryn already inside. She was wearing a plain black bathing suit that accentuated her curves in all the right ways. It took him a moment to find a playful remark. "Thought you'd get a head start, did you?"
"You know me, Chakotay. I like to be first."
He laughed. "Yes. Competitive sauna-ing. Winner, first place, Kathryn Janeway."
She was sitting on the top bench, but he looked at the widely spaced benches and decided to settle for the bottom rather than attempting to climb up beside her. She moved one of the pails of water and stepped down to the middle shelf, so that her feet dangled next to him. She took a small pot and used it to scoop water out of the big bucket. She tossed the water over the sauna rocks and steam billowed up from them with a loud hiss.
Kathryn looked down at Chakotay's broad shoulders and resisted the urge to run her hands across them. She had been certain that any attraction that had once existed between them had been extinguished long ago, but the past few days had proven that to be completely untrue. She began to wonder if her sauna idea had been wise. She tore her eyes from the sweat beading on Chakotay's shoulders and instead threw some more steam on.
At the same time, Chakotay tried to keep his eyes from straying to his right, where Kathryn's thighs were nearly parallel to his chin. He tried not to look at the muscles on her calves, her thighs, and her buttocks. He tried not to look at the way her swimsuit hugged her body and at the sweat that was beginning to drip down her chest and into her cleavage. He wiped the sweat from his own brow with his hand, feeling the heat in his body, but not just from the sauna.
"Washcloth?" she offered.
"Why?" he asked. "Think I can't take the heat?"
"I don't know. Can you?" Her eyes were filled with a challenge as they met his.
"All right," he said. "I'll take a washcloth." Challenge accepted. "Now, turn around."
"What?"
"Turn around," he instructed. "I'm going to wash your back."
Hesitantly, she shifted her body on the bench so that her back was facing him. He stood so he could reach her more easily and dipped the washcloth into the bucket of cool lake water. He began to rub the cloth gently over her shoulders and neck, and then scrubbed a little harder. Her swimsuit dipped low in the back, giving him access to a fair amount of skin. He dipped the washcloth into the water again and squeezed it out over her, allowing the cool water to drip down her back as the heat of the sauna warmed her. He covered every inch of her back and shoulders, scrubbing and massaging with the washcloth. He could feel himself becoming aroused as he did so, and was glad that Kathryn was turned away from him and couldn't see the bulge in his swim trunks. When he had finished, he leaned forward and placed his lips against her neck, just once. He heard her inhale suddenly at the contact. "What's wrong?" he whispered in her ear. "Can't take the heat?"
She took a deep breath in and then said, "Now you." She turned to face him and took the washcloth from his hand. Understanding what she wanted, he turned away from her, exposing his shoulders and back to her touch. But rather than the cool washcloth on his skin, the first thing Chakotay felt was Kathryn's fingers searing a pattern in his skin, tracing the sweat from his shoulders down his back all the way to the waistband of his shorts. Only after this did she dip the washcloth into the water and squeeze it out over his body. The cool water was almost shocking after the searing heat of her fingers, and he hissed at the sensation. Then she dipped the washcloth into the water again and began to run it over his back, scrubbing gently as he had done for her. When she had finished the entire expanse of his back, she allowed the washcloth to drop into the bucket of water.
Both of them were dripping in sweat, and he slowly turned to face her, unsure what was to come next. He wanted to reach out and slide the straps of her swimsuit down her arms. He wanted to place his tongue on the droplets of sweat as they followed her neck down her chest and into the hollow between her breasts. But before he could do anything, Kathryn was climbing off the shelf. "You don't have to run," she said, "but I'm going to." And with that, she was out the sauna door running towards the lake. He heard the splash of her hitting the water before he had even exited the sauna.
Not trusting himself to run quite yet, Chakotay followed her down to the shore. He waded into the lake, allowing the cool water to slowly envelop him. He walked in up to his knees, up to his hips, and it almost felt as though the lake was embracing him. Finally, he extended his arms and swam out after Kathryn, testing his muscles and coordination. He'd been in the pool at Starfleet Medical during his physical therapy, but this was his first swim in a natural body of water since his accident, and it felt good. He ducked his head under, allowing his full body to become immersed in the soft lake water. The cool water washed away his sweat, and Chakotay thought that he had never felt anything so wonderful. As he watched Kathryn gleefully swim out into the bay, he thought that if he wasn't careful, he'd never want to leave this place.
=/\=
Their days settled into a comfortable routine. They'd drink coffee together in the morning on the deck and each would fix their own breakfast. Kathryn would go for a morning walk while Chakotay did his physical therapy exercises, and they'd each spend a portion of the day occupied with their own things. Kathryn would prepare a light lunch, while Chakotay made himself in charge of dinner. If the weather was hot, they'd swim in the afternoon. Their near intimate encounter in the sauna had scared both of them, and they had not lit the fire again since. They had backed away from or avoided any physical contact that might become too suggestive.
They laughed and talked and joked. Kathryn talked about summers at the lake, her grandfather taking her fishing, her father teaching her to drive the boat. Chakotay spoke about playing with his brothers and sisters in the river, about his grandfather teaching him to make wood carvings before his mind had been ravaged by disease. They had made video calls to some of their former crew at Kathryn's insistence, but Chakotay had been glad, afterwards, that they had done so and remarked to her that it felt good to reconnect with so many people. She smiled to herself and secretly began to hope that he would not decide to return to Bokara III on a permanent basis.
After a few days without the cane, as Kathryn prepared to go on her morning walk, Chakotay asked, "May I join you?"
"Are you sure you're up to it?"
"If I get too tired, I'll turn around," he said. "I promise."
"I won't walk too fast."
"Don't slow down on my account."
But she set a leisurely pace as they walked from the driveway of the house out onto the road. The gravel of the road crunched beneath their feet as they walked.
"I'm amazed that in the 24th century there's still a dirt road anywhere on Earth," Chakotay said.
"The families that live on the road all decided to maintain it this way a couple generations ago. And every successive generation has agreed. Almost all the homes on this road have been passed down from generation to generation for at least a hundred years. Besides, everyone has a hovercar now, so it hardly matters what the road is made of."
"I like it," he said. "It adds character. It makes you feel like you're going to a different world."
"The lake is a bit of a different world, isn't it?"
As they walked further down the road, Chakotay observed the details of the trees and the gravel, the way the road curved, rose, and fell.
Kathryn noticed his pensive expression. "What are you thinking about?"
"When I was injured, before I woke up, I had a dream that I was on a road that looked very much like this one. But I don't think I'd ever seen this road before." He paused. "Maybe it's just a typical dirt road, and any dirt road would look similar."
It was her turn now to become contemplative. "I did describe Lake George to you in a lot of detail when you were still unconscious," she said. "I'm sure I mentioned the dirt road and probably told you about walking on it. Maybe you did hear me."
"Maybe." He looked up at the trees. "What about a yellow bird? Was that in your description?"
"A yellow bird? No, I don't think we have any yellow birds around here. Why do you ask?"
"No reason," Chakotay replied, but the picture in his mind of the mysterious bird remained for the rest of the day.
=/\=
The breeze had picked up, and small white caps rolled across the lake. They had hoisted the mainsail on the sailboat, and Kathryn grinned at Chakotay across the deck. "Chakotay," she ordered, "go aft and haul on that outhaul line handsomely, would you?"
He laughed. "Are you saying the line is handsome or that I am?"
"Neither one. It means you need to pull it slowly and steadily."
"Aye, aye, Captain." He found the line she was referring to and followed her direction until she gestured at him to stop. He had the distinct impression that she was thoroughly enjoying being captain for a day.
"All right," she said. "Ready about."
He had learned a little bit of sailing terminology when she'd taken him sailing on the holodeck, but it was an entirely different experience in real life. He struggled to follow her instructions, but managed to help her, and soon the boat was headed out into open water. It was a perfect day for sailing. The sky was blue, littered with a few puffy white clouds, and the sun shone down on them, but wasn't too hot. There was a nice breeze, but not too strong of a wind. Other sailboats passed by, and they waved to the occupants, which Kathryn had explained was customary.
Once they were underway, Kathryn sat back and relaxed. He watched her, in her blue and white sundress, leaning up against the dark wood of the boat, standing at the bow, relaxed and happy, her hair, which she had let grow out again, blowing in the wind. At times, a strand would escape from her ponytail, and she'd reach up to tuck it behind her ear. He thought that he had never seen her look more beautiful, which only made what he was about to tell her harder to say.
They stopped midday for lunch and dropped anchor in the center of the lake. Chakotay had prepared the lunch today, wanting to make something special, and had packed an assortment of salads and sandwiches for them to enjoy, along with a thermos of lemonade. He broke it open and laid everything out on a table that opened up on the deck of the boat.
"This looks like a feast!" Kathryn exclaimed.
Chakotay smiled as he dished her a plate. "I can't do enough to thank you for these last few weeks, Kathryn," he said.
"You don't need to thank me."
He reached across the table and touched her hand. "I do. You didn't have to do any of this, much less invite me to stay at your home and make me feel so welcome. These past few weeks at Lake George with you have brought me back to myself… to a version of myself I thought I'd lost, actually."
"I understand that," she said. Lake George had had a similar effect on her after she'd resigned from Starfleet and moved here.
"And our friendship," he added softly. "That was another thing I thought I'd lost."
"Me, too." Now she reached across the table, entwining her fingers with his.
He looked down at their interlaced fingers. "I got some news yesterday. Dr. Crusher says I'm fully recovered. I'll need to continue my physical therapy exercises on my own, but I don't need to go to Starfleet Medical anymore."
"Chakotay, that's wonderful!"
He squeezed her hand and took a deep breath before his next words. "So, I can't impose on you anymore. I have to get back to Bokara."
Her fingers went limp against his, and she withdrew her hand. She was silent for a long time, looking not at him, but out at the water. He peered at her, waiting for her to say something, but she said nothing.
"I promised Sveta," he continued. "And I promised myself that I would do something to help those people. There's a lot of work that needs to be done there."
She nodded slowly, finally bringing her eyes to meet his, but he couldn't read her expression. "I understand," she said.
"I'll stay in touch," he reassured her. "I'll come and visit as often as I can."
But she did not reply, and they ate the rest of their lunch in relative silence. Chakotay asked her about her upcoming lectures and classes, but she gave him short answers and didn't seem to want to elaborate. After they cleaned up the lunch dishes, they sailed for a couple more hours, but Kathryn spent most of her time at the helm giving him orders which he did his best to follow. As the afternoon wore on, she told him it was time to moor the ship and head back to the marina. He had replied with, "Aye, Captain," but it didn't have the same effect on her that it had had earlier in the day.
They returned the boat to the marina and then returned to the lake house. "Do you want me to make dinner?" Chakotay had asked, but Kathryn had shaken her head and told him she was still full from lunch.
That night, after mooring the boat and returning to the lake from the marina, they sat together in their chairs on the dock, as had become their customary way to watch the sunset. "When are you leaving?" Kathryn asked.
"I found a seat on a transport tomorrow," he replied.
The evening was still and quiet, and that night was one of those clear, perfect sunsets when the lake shimmered like glass and the sun sank like a golden ball on a cloudless sky. The air was still, and the only sounds to be heard were those of distant boats or the occasional bird. There was not even the sound of the water lapping up against the rocks, only the occasional passing of a hovercar. The tree line seemed almost black against the glow of the sunlight as the sun sank beyond the horizon, a glowing ball dipping into a perfect blue lake. The lake might as well have been made of glass, it was so calm and still. The sun dipped beyond the tree line and then finally disappeared altogether like the embers of a dying fire.