Chapter 6: Adjusting Parameters

New Earth: 2 hours before Voyager's return

"We need to talk."

Familiar words.

New territory.

He turned to her, and watched her shape awkwardly linger above him for a few seconds, fully dressed, bun of steel on top of her head, ready to report for duty.

"Who exactly will I be talking to," he asked. "The Captain or Kathryn?"

They'd packed up most of their belongings now, put away his new life in containers, which he decided he wouldn't be taking with him onto Voyager. He didn't need that stuff, didn't need the memories associated with the items he'd crafted for her. For them. It would only make the transition more difficult. She'd looked up at him a couple of times, her eyes filled with regret, and as soon as she'd dropped the last containers outside, he'd walked away.

Done for now.

He craved the escape, went back to the campfire clearing intend on forcing away the beating that had started in his head an hour or so ago.

"How about a friend?" she offered.

"Friend?" he snorted.

She sat down across from him, hugging her legs to her chest, looking small and tired.

They lapsed into silence.

"I don't know how to fix this," she spoke frankly.

"How about you don't break it?" he suggested.

"You know we can't."

"Why not?" he opposed. "Would it be so awful?"

She looked away, bit down hard on her lip, breaking the skin with her teeth. It wouldn't be awful at all, and she knew it. It would make sense. She was holding onto old fashioned beliefs of propriety, and he could only speculate as to the why.

"I don't feel the same way," she said after a moment of silence.

"What?" he regarded her with confusion.

"I'm not in love with you."

Was this some kind of sick joke?

"Bullshit."

She'd never actually said it, but he didn't have to hear it to know that what she was saying now was a lie.

She shook her head.

"No, it's the truth."

He scowled, his mind's eye bitterly shifting through shared memories stored in corner boxes labelled bliss and joy. He could find nothing but affection, regard, and playful jesting there. They'd been on a journey of self-discovery, and for some reason she was now trying to tell him what exactly? Why was she doing this?

"I know I should have said something sooner, but I couldn't, and I only realized my mistake when I couldn't say it back last week. It wasn't because I couldn't make sense of what I felt. I just don't feel it at all."

A lump formed in his throat. So very easily could she throw a wrecking ball at them, fabricated by words and lies of her own making, swiftly destroying, in seconds, what had taken them months to build.

"So, what was all of this to you, then?"

"Lust," she said, monotonously. "Fun," she added, rolling her eyes.

"And it never occurred to you that it might all come crumbling down one day?"

She shrugged.

"I didn't care," she countered. "I'm not proud of it. But what did I have to lose? We were destined to die here someday, one way or another one of us was going to end up alone. Might as well have a little fun, make the most of my time here."

He shook his head.

"You're cold, Kathryn."

She looked away.

"And a liar."

"Then ask me," she sharply turned on him. "Ask me if I'm in love with you."

"Don't patronize me," he replied.

"I am not in love with you," she bit out.

Her gaze was level, her body poised and calm, no conflict in her eyes, and maybe a couple of months ago he would have been fooled, wouldn't have seen through her so easily. But, he'd familiarized himself with every little nuanced movement of her body since. Experience now told him that what he objectively witnessed was nothing, nothing at all, and that could only mean that there had to be something.

He got up, and walked away, allowing her to believe that it had worked. That what she'd wanted him to see was true.

Maybe, she'd come around on Voyager.

Maybe, if he just gave her a little more time and space.

=/\=

Voyager: Present Day - Sickbay

"How is therapy coming along?"

The Doctor lifted his head and turned around in his chair, an enthusiastic Kes stepped inside his office, stopping short in front of his desk, her features beaming with unconcealed curiosity. She'd been quite interested in his latest exploits into the human brain, eager to understand more about the inner workings of the human consciousness. There was still so much to learn, and she, excited to absorb it all. He regarded her for a second, forcing his frown to shift into an expression of neutral indifference.

"It's going," his frown slipped back on.

"Doctor?"

She might not actually be able to sense his emotions like she could the rest of the crew, but she could read faces just as well. If only he wasn't such an open book.

He sighed.

"I cannot actually discuss the sessions with you, Kes, doctor-patient confidentiality."

"Of course," she nodded gravely, waiting.

He inhaled sharply, filling his holographic lungs with holographic air.

"There have been some unforeseen complications," he admitted.

What was the harm in discussing the matter superficially? Despite her young age, Kes was a highly intuitive and capable woman. Understanding far more than most would give her credit for. In the past she'd often provided him with insights that went above and beyond his installed parameters of comprehension. In fact, they were both as much each other's teachers as they were each other's protégées.

"Go on," she encouraged.

"I wasn't as well prepared for the conversation as I would have liked. I was led to believe that other emotions were at play. I was wrong. The exchange that actually took place was something that took me completely by surprise," he trailed. "Both the commander and the captain threw a proverbial curve ball in my wake, as they say. And I failed to respond adequately. I failed in my role as counselor," he hung his head dramatically.

"Don't be too hard on yourself," Kes stepped around the desk and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "The captain and commander are two very complicated and strong-willed individuals. Anyone alone in that room with them would have struggled."

Maybe that was true, but he'd installed all of the proper subroutines, possessed an infinite amount of data on a whole array of therapeutic methods that would have befitted the captain and commander's predicament. He had the knowledge; why then, hadn't he been able to put it into practice?

"I don't know what to do, Kes," he went on, lowering his head to his hands, blubbering out his frustrations. "Their issues are far more complicated than I originally presumed," he looked up at her. "I am out of my depth," more wallowing. "Damnit Kes, I'm a Doctor, not a psychoanalyst!"

"Yes," she smiled. "Yes, you are."

"Healing injuries is a bliss, cracking spines a wonder!" He looked up at her. "But this?! Fixing unbendable minds, frustratingly immovable! It's impossible!"

She continued to rub his back with her hand, absorbing with a touch, the sorrow expressed, and he had to admit, it was oddly comforting.

"The captain is a complicated woman," Kes sympathized. "Her feelings for the commander run deeper than she's willing to confess to herself, that's not your fault."

He looked up in surprise.

"What do you know about her feelings?"

Kes withdrew her hand, and clamming her mouth shut, instantly realized her mistake.

"Kes?"

She took a step back, nervously twisting her fingers together.

"Have you talked to the captain?" the Doctor probed.

"No," she said, "I haven't spoken to the captain in quite some time."

"Then how do you….?" he trailed.

"I can sense her," Kes admitted. "But I really shouldn't be saying more."

"Please, Kes," the Doctor rose, walking up to the young Ocampan.

"If there's anything you know that might be of value then you must tell me," he implored. "At this point, I doubt even the heirs to the Holy Rings of Betazed would be able to pull the truth from that woman," he rolled his eyes theatrically. "If there's anything you know that might defuse the situation. Please, say so."

She shifted uncertainly, considering her moral obligation to keep private that which others never explicitly talked to her about, and her commitment to the Doctor. She knew he would treat the information with care, would never use it against the captain or even reveal it to her explicitly. His program was bound to the Hippocratic Oath, incapable of breaking medical or ethical confidentiality.

She inhaled strongly, then nodded her consent.

"Do you remember when lieutenant Tuvok and Neelix merged together in a transporter accident some months ago?"

"Yes, of course," he nodded, not quite sure what she was trying to say.

"I was completely overcome by sorrow. Torn between my feelings for Neelix, and unable to grief, because in some way he was still alive, inside of Tuvix. I didn't know what to do with myself. I wanted to move on, but I couldn't. Tuvix served as a constant reminder of what I'd lost. What I wanted back."

"I know how difficult it was for you, Kes" he said, raising a hand to her shoulder. It had been difficult for him too. The loss of Mr. Neelix and Lieutenant Tuvok, only to be faced with the subsequent loss of Mr. Tuvix weeks later. It had been a tumultuous time, and it had taken Kes months to recover from the guilt that ensued.

"The captain is struggling with similar emotions," Kes revealed. "She's trying to mourn a loss that can't be mourned. Just like Tuvix made it impossible for me to let go of Neelix. It has become impossible for her to let go of the feelings she has for the commander. A man who sits next to her on the bridge, every single day. Reminding her. Watching her. Wanting her. It's made her realize she doesn't really want to move on, but she's convinced herself she's got to. Her loyalty to the crew is strong. She believes it's more important, and she fears what would happen if she'd allow herself to be anything but the captain. She might lose sight of her crew, she thinks it might compromise her."

The Doctor carefully considered Kes' words, processing the complexities of a narrative he had never had time to consider himself, and in a way, didn't make much sense to him either. Love had always been a very straightforward concept to him. He watched it happen all the time on the ship. Crewmen and women pairing off, indulging, staying together or breaking up. He himself had recently become acquainted with the fundamentals of the emotion. In the beginning the whole affair had proven to be quite stressful, but towards the end it had turned out to be a most enjoyable experience. He would definitely try his hand at it again if given the opportunity. Although, he'd go about it differently, work out the kinks, make the experience more functional, everlasting.

But then, the commander and captain's confession had made him surprisingly uncomfortable. He supposed he had never suspected the captain to engage in such frivolous activities. The commander, yes. The captain, not so much. Of course, he knew she had a fiancée back in the Alpha Quadrant, but that only gave rise to the thought that she was a self-confessed celibate. How was he to know she was also only human?

"This is interesting," he finally said, reflecting. "What you're suggesting she feels lies in direct dispute with what she spoke about during our therapy session."

"I imagined as much," Kes shrugged.

"Why?"

"I know Captain Janeway," she smiled. "In order to deprive herself of any amorous feelings, she's probably trying to convince herself that she doesn't have them at all."

"You are absolutely right!" the Doctor exclaimed. "That's exactly what she claimed."

"I'm not surprised."

"How do you suggest I move forward?" The Doctor asked, eagerly.

Kes considered his question for a moment. Amused by the sudden turning of tables, switching of roles.

"Maybe don't do anything at all? Let them sort it out themselves."

The Doctor snorted.

"They can't even stand to be together in the same room long enough to speak."

"Then create a circumstance in which they'll have to."

"Hmm," he pondered.

"Just don't make it seem like they've got no choice."

He frowned, the suggestion weighed heavily on his programming. It seemed to be a somewhat unethical task. Luring people into a falls sense of security wasn't exactly a subroutine his programme was familiar with. But maybe he could create a circumstance in which he wouldn't exactly have to lure them into anything. Maybe he could make it so that it was genuine, but with a slight alteration, a withholding of information rather than a trap. Ah, yes! He might be onto something there. He could make that work!

"Thank you, Kes!" he exclaimed. "I believe I know what to do!" he brushed past her, intend on setting his developing plan into motion as soon as possible.

Kes smiled, encouraged by this sudden change in behaviour.

"I knew you would," she called after him. "You're very welcome, Doctor."

=/\=

Voyager: Present day – Holodeck one

24 hours later

With half her mind on the time she rushed across deck six, sprinting past crowded corridors, pressing in between crewmen and crewwomen on her way to holodeck one. They seemed startled at first, not quite recognising the unfamiliarly dressed female officer as their captain. Not until she came close enough to crash into them. Jumping out of her way just in time, she caught several bewildered 'oh, I'm so sorry, captain', which she rewarded with an 'on your way ensign/lieutenant/crewman'.

She was late.

Again.

She hadn't done it on purpose, hadn't even intended to be late the first time. Not deliberately, anyway. So, when she finally rushed through the doors of holodeck one she was surprised to find that tardiness turned out to be a contagious affliction.

Interesting.

The grid was empty but for a confused Chakotay, looking about the place as though he just realized he had been the butt of someone's not so funny joke. At the sound of her entering he turned around, his expression shifting into one of mild amusement at the sight of her. Maybe not a joke after all, then?

"Making a habit out of it, I see," he said by way of greeting, taking note of her frazzled appearance.

She'd decided not to make a fuss of how she looked today, had thrown on the same military green jumpsuit as before, minus the braid. Just loose hair. Strands be damned, and what was the point, anyway? Although, in hindsight she was now strongly reconsidering that last bit of reasoning, hairs sticking to sweaty cheeks, sensibly reminding her of the bun's purpose.

"The Doctor too, it seems," she replied. "Did he say anything about being late?"

Chakotay shook his head.

She frowned.

They'd been scheduled to meet today, hadn't they? 1600 hours on holodeck one? She glanced at her watch; never mind the fact it was 1605 hours now.

Turning away she tapped her combadge.

"Janeway to the Doctor,"

"The Doctor here."

"Mind enlightening us as to your whereabouts?" she all but snapped.

"Ah, yes!" he scraped his throat audibly. "I'm sorry, captain. Ensign Hickman came in with a bad case of food poisoning as I was about to head to the holodeck," he paused, the sound of a hypospray hissing through the com. She mentally sighed. "I suspect Mr. Neelix's latest cooking exploits might have something to do with it; several more crewmen have reported to sickbay throughout the day. But not to worry, captain. I'll be with you shortly! This won't take long at all. Maybe you and the commander could start up the program in the meantime, you'll find it saved under "Doctor EFT Alpha One," he supplied.

"Doctor, if another time would suit better, we could happily reschedule," she said, effectively banishing the hope out of the hopeful in her voice. Or at least she hoped she had.

"Not necessary, Captain. I'll be with you in minutes."

It had been too much to hope for anyway.

"Very well then," she sighed, turning to the commander, who'd already stepped out to activate the program. "Janeway out."

As Chakotay re-entered their surroundings changed, morphing into the familiar grey and green therapy room of yesterday.

He motioned to the chairs and her stomach involuntarily knotted together. The last time they'd been alone they'd just packed up everything on New Earth, waiting for Voyager to return. Excluding, of course, that one time in her ready room several days ago, when she'd all but skinned him alive. The uniform firmly planted between them, the perfect excuse. There was no uniform now, and no anger. Only him and her in a room crammed with trepidation. She couldn't help but wonder if this had been the Doctor's plan all along, forcing them together in a little room for an undecided amount of time. Waiting.

She hesitated.

"Kathryn?" Countless unexpressed questions pursued that single proper noun, and she, all out of answers.

She stepped towards the armchairs, watched him claim his chair, and without another glance took her seat beside him. She was being ridiculous. The Doctor had been far too excited about his new role as ship's "counselor", he would not concoct such a ridiculous plot. She was being unnecessarily paranoid.

Some minutes past in silence. The awkwardness steadily growing, sprouting an abominable elephant, which she refused to look at, talk to, or acknowledge.

"How have you been?" Chakotay asked, first to break the silence.

"Fine," she said.

Such a simple question, superficial enough to get a conversation going under normal circumstances, but a far too layered one in their case.

Fine.

As if.

"You?"

"Shit," he answered, with a hint of the tiniest sarcasm in his voice, oddly candid.

She chanced a look in his direction.

He sat back, staring up at the ceiling, studying the yellow strokes of paint with fading interest. She hadn't noticed that specific shade the last time they were here.

She sighed, checked her watch; 1610 hours. The doctor sure was taking his sweet time.

"Tell me", Chakotay began, his voice eerily calm. "I know why I'm here, but what exactly are you expecting to gain from these sessions?"

A beat.

"Reinstatement."

He nodded, and looked away.

The awkwardness stretched further between them, as though an invisible string was slowly tightening, completely pulled taut, about to break. It occurred to her that it was almost comical how they'd moved from one extreme to the next, like rainbows in a thunderstorm, exploring each other for weeks to now barely being able to stand the other for longer than a few seconds. It wasn't for lack of desire. She did not hate him.

1612 hours.

This was getting ridiculous.

She tapped her combadge.

"Janeway to the Doctor."

"The Doctor here."

"Are you going to make an appearance anytime soon or should we be calling it a day?"

"No, no! I'm nearly on my way, captain!"

The sound of another hypospray hiss dramatically resonated over the com.

Again.

Something was off.

"Doctor," she began, her gut instincts kicking into gear. "If –"

"Ah, Captain," he hastily interrupted. "I just remembered! I stored a selection of therapeutic communication techniques under Doctor NE. I suggest you and the commander work on the basics of that program while you wait. In fact, consider it a warming up exercise until I arrive."

"Doctor," her voice dangerously low.

"I'll be right there!" his tone upbeat, giving her little chance to opt out, "Doctor out."

She turned to Chakotay. He'd been watching her intently, a flicker of amusement confirming her own suspicions. They were being set up; it had been a ploy after all.

"He's up to something."

She nodded.

"He sure is."

But, would she feign ignorance and go along with the Doctor's nefarious masterplan, or? Or what, exactly? What alternative did she have at this point? She already lost every single privilege befitting a Starfleet captain, she could hardly override his programme and drag his holographic behind to holodeck one, even if she wanted to. Besides, she might not like nor approve of his methods, may even consider them highly unconventional, but that didn't warrant a dressing down.

"Well," she stood and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "You heard the man."

Chakotay coaxed an eyebrow

"Are you sure?"

"Do you have a better plan?"

He shook his head, that same hint of amusement sneaking back into the lines around his eyes. He was enjoying this.

"Computer, begin programme Doctor NE," Chakotay ordered.

The setting instantly changed, and what reappeared knocked the wind clean out of her.

"Hell no," she shook her head vehemently.

"No, no, no."

She instinctively made straight for the exit.

"Kathryn, wait!"

"Did you know about this?!" she sharply turned on him, her eyes spitting fire.

He shook his head.

"No, but–"

"Computer, exit."

"I suspected as much," he finished, and caught her by the elbow in a feeble attempt to calm her. As if scalded, she immediately wrenched herself from his grip.

Where was that damned exit?

"Computer, exit!" She boomed once more.

"Unable to comply."

"Why?!" she retorted, panic nipping at the edges of her sanity.

"Clarify," the monotonous female voice droned back.

That damned computer.

That damned Doctor.

"Kathryn," Chakotay tried once more, softly placing a hand on her shoulder, but–.

"No!"

She shook her head.

She didn't know how or when the Doctor had done this, but somehow, he'd gotten every single detail right, down to the ashes at the campfire side, the budding vegetables in her charming little garden, and the bland looking modular shelter they'd called home; it looked exactly the same. A picture-perfect 3D holographic projection of New Earth.

"I can't be here."

She wasn't one to buckle under pressure easily, could deal well enough with sudden surprises and life altering incidents. She'd made it this far in the Delta Quadrant, hadn't she? But this, right here, this was a beast of an entirely different nature. The only way she'd known how to let go of anything and everything was her uncanny ability to move forward. To not live in the past. She prided herself on that quality. A clear case in point being that she'd long since accepted she might never see her family again, never see Mark again. She held out hope, sure, but that didn't stop her from looking to the future. No, she hadn't been able to get to where she was now by running holographic simulations of places and people that would make her pine for what she couldn't have. This was counterproductive. This was painful. He'd crossed the line.

"Janeway to the Doctor."

A short click reverberated over the com, then nothing.

Their eyes met, Chakotay's demeanour shifted to one of bewilderment, concern. In two short strides he'd made for the control panel next to the invisible exit, pulled up the console out of thin air and punched a series of commands into the computer. His expression paled.

"He's cut off our communication to the rest of the ship," he paused. "And it seems that the moment we activated the programme it locked us in for an indefinite amount of time."

She shook her head, her jaw clenching and unclenching with scarcely managed restrain.

"What does that mean indefinite?"

"According to these settings some type of event needs to occur before the exit will appear and our com links will be restored."

"What kind of event?"

Chakotay shrugged.

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"Terrific," she pinched the bridge of her nose in an effort to shift her mind's attention away from the panic that was still bubbling beneath the surface. It was becoming increasingly harder to focus, to breathe.

"I need a moment," she said, then stalked off in the direction of the river.