Chapter 13 - Surrender
"I want every single piece of you
I want your heaven and your ocean's too
Treat me soft but touch me cruel
I wanna teach you things you never knew, ooh baby
Bring the floor up to my knees
Let me fall into your gravity
Then kiss me back to life to see
Your body standing over me.
Baby don't let the lights go down.
I miss you when the lights go out
It illuminates all of my doubts
Pull me in, hold me tight, don't let go
Baby, give me light"
- Adele Adkins and Paul Epworth
=/\=
"We've been down this road before."
"Have we?" she asks.
"You wanting answers to questions you shouldn't ask."
She leans forward, clearly wanting more from him. "But something did happen, outside the normal space time continuum.
But his lips are sealed, his smile is wry, and instead of feeding her intrigue, he drinks from his glass.
Her sights falling to the floor, she searches her memory and continues. "It's strange, thinking there's a piece of your life you don't know anything about."
"Sounds a lot like the future." He reaches forward, picks up the nearly-empty bottle of Antarian Cider.
"Any predictions?" she asks.
"Only that in a few minutes this bottle will be empty." He turns to her, offers her a top-up.
She obliges. "Then maybe you should go to the Cargo Bay, grab another one."
"How do you know that's where I keep it?"
Her brow pushes together. She leans back. "Oh, I can't tell you."
"Why not?"
The corner of her mouth lifts, and her smile spreads slowly. "Temporal Prime Directive."
=/\=
The hours have moved by easily, victim to their discussions of the past, of the present, as they carefully dance around the Temporal Prime Directive and the events of the evening, of his lost hours as he had moved within the temporal waves of Voyager.
And with each trip he takes to Cargo Bay 2, they grow deeper and deeper into the ease of conversation.
She has taken off her jacket; he has loosened his. Her boots have been removed to be tossed in the center of the room; his neatly aligned with his chair.
He moves to the couch, and they sit like bookends. She twists, and leans against the back so she can see him clearly, and she pulls a blanket from the basket on the floor beside her and spreads it over them. They curl beneath it, cheeks heated from the affects of the alcohol.
She swirls the remaining contents of her glass. "So, how much of this stuff do we really have?"
He looks up from his glass. "Enough."
"How much is enough?"
He drinks and she watches his throat move as he swallows. She licks her lips. "Enough for a few more nights like this," he says. "Or more."
Her face grows serious; her eyes searching. She holds the once cooled liquid in her mouth before swallowing.
He laughs at her sudden nervousness. "More than just at few nights." He raises a finger in her direction. "What did you think I meant?"
She cocks her head. "Nothing," She sips and returns his laugh. "I blame the liquor." She reaches forward and picks up the tall bottle with its fine edges. "We might as well finish this."
He nods. "Doubt it will keep."
She empties the remnants equally into both glasses.
And with another sip, he tucks the blanket under his chin, and closes his eyes.
"You look exhausted," she remarks.
"It was tiring work."
"Time travel is never easy, I suppose."
His eyes open sleepily. "So, how much do you know?"
She looks down at her glass, and runs a finger around the rim. "Let's just say not everything went back the way it should when you initiated the warp pulse." She smiles.
He inhales slowly, deeply. "So you remember everything? Have you remembered this whole time?"
She looks up slowly. "At the risk of disobeying the Temporal Prime Directive, I do." She pauses taking her last sip. "I have."
She reaches forward to place her empty glass on the table in front of them, and she can see his dark eyes following her, trying to read her, as the remaining few lights in the room reflect within them. He is searching her face, attempting to get something more from her than the words that escape her.
She did remember; remembered everything. And the memories had pushed themselves to the forefront of her mind, returning the feelings of those few hours she had shared with him before the events of the Caretaker's array could ensue.
And the future he had shared with her was her guide, and she followed it as best she could.
Because one thing had been clear to her; they had had a connection. She had felt it as they moved about the ship, falling between the segments of time. There was something in this strange Maquis that drew her in, something that drew her toward his core. A connection she could not place words to, even now.
He tilts his head, struggles to hold it upright, fighting against the sleep that wants to take him under. "So you made me your First Officer without question? Because I had told you so, from the future?"
She smiles. "No. Well, I questioned it?"
"You did?"
"For a spit second."
He smiles sleepily, his eyes fading. He blinks slowly and closes his eyes. His head bobs for a second and he catches himself, eyes opening. Finally, it slowly falls forward, his chin to his chest as he listens to her continue.
"To be honest, there was something about you that told me I trusted you, deeply, in this other time. There was something I couldn't explain. And If there was anyone I was going to trust, it was a future me."
"Hmmm," he mutters.
He drifts dangerously, close to falling asleep, and his head takes a final bob to rest against the back of the couch.
"I could tell by the way you were with me, the comfort, how easily you knew me, the way you spoke to me, that we were friends or possibly something more. It's what made me question..." She stops, listens as his breathing deepens, his mind lost in a dream. "Well," she whispers. "There was all but one thing I trusted this future me with. All but one thing you told me."
Just how close do we get?
She had asked him it, even with Mark fresh on her mind. Even with the ghosted remnants of his touch still grazing her skin, she had asked this of this known traitor, this wanted felon.
Her past anxiety of awaiting his answer fresh on her mind, she looks down to see her fingertips nervously dancing once again. The nerves flood her body, as if she were being transported back in time.
Could they have been as close as she had envisioned? That her immediate expectations of their relationship were to come to pass.
"To be honest, it wasn't the answer I was expecting to hear," she shares secretly with the walls around her.
And there were some barriers they never crossed. And the disappointment hits her, grips her chest tightly. She looks up and watches him sleep.
Why didn't you lie to me? she begs silently.
How things might have been different between them had she not known their outcome. How she could have given in to those feelings, ignoring her future self; ignoring her burden of protocol and command.
His breathing was heavy now and she lifts herself slowly, sliding out of the blanket they share, careful not to disturb him. She moves to stand next to him, watches him sleeping peacefully, and a gentle smile lights her face.
She lifts the blanket over him, tucks him in carefully, and treads across the room to find sleep.
Hopefully to dream of a different time, of a different future.
One where she could be with him. One where she could give in and surrender to him. One where she could be free to love him, and finally, after all this time, find the peace she desired.
=/\=
They stumbled through the front door, tripping over a small mat. He reached out to grab the kitchen's island and they fell softly to the floor, holding each other, breaking into a fit of giggles.
She looked up from the floor and searched the room.
It was a mirror image of her own unit; kitchen complete with replicator and oven. But there was something different with his unit. It felt more like home. Maybe it was his small touches. The paintings he had placed on the walls. The books that sat on the nearby small table. Maybe it was the smell of the room which flooded with his cologne, which filled her with comfort.
Maybe it was because it had him in it.
The water dripped from her hair, fell down her face as she rolled beneath him, back flat on the carpeted floor.
Their giggles had subsided and he found her mouth, breathed her in, pressing his lips firmly against her, seemingly pushing her further into the floor. She happily welcomed the pressure of his body, the way his hands found her face to brush her wet hair from her brow.
"I missed you," he confessed.
She smiled. "I missed you too."
She lifted her head and returned his kiss, pressed firmly against him, but he pulled and softened his lips against her, gently searched her mouth with his tongue.
She tore from him and placed her head to the floor, reached to grip the back of his head and fresh water droplets hit her cheek. "I thought I told you not to be gentle."
Sticky skin, cooled from the rain, pulled as he moved up her body, and she wiggled, enticing the chase. His hands felt their way, pushing her sheer, navy blouse over her head. He threw it to the side.
Her navy bra clung to her breasts, and as he forced it down, it tugged at her skin. She welcomed the feeling as it pulled at her nipples, as he grabbed her breasts and continued across her collar bone to take her neck in his hand. She reached up to hold his hand in place, and she gripped it, helped him to tighten his grasp around her neck. She smiled seductively, and he grabbed her hands, placing them over her head, arching her back upward, sending her torso to align with his.
He released her and reached up and removed his wet t-shirt from his torso, tugged at his belt unbuckling it quickly. He ran his hands through his hair, releasing water droplets down upon her torso.
His hand returned to her neck, and she smiled as wet digits tightened slightly.
He leaned forward, growling against her ear. "Is this what you want?"
"Harder," she whispered. "I won't break."
He tightened his grip a bit more, kissed her lips. "No? But I might."
She wanted every ounce of him. Wanted him to consume, to devour, to grasp every inch of her skin until she was completely drained of refrain. Until he had smashed every intricate brick she had built up around her over the last seven years, to have it lay dismantled in a million pieces at their feet.
She wanted new life. She wanted a rebirth.
"Take me," she said.
He pulled at the waist of her pants, unbuttoned and unzipped and pulled them down her hips as she wiggled across the floor. She rolled as he undid her bra, began to crawl from him as he pulled at her panties.
She rolled, crawled backwards toward the couch slowly, watching him strip from his pants, to lower his boxers and stand full of desire, waiting for her. Her hand reached behind her, found the soft cushions of the couch. She rose to sit, legs falling to the side.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, breath quickening as he lowered to his knees and crawled to her slowly, a wild hunger burning in his eyes. The seconds beat slowly, rhythmically following his pace on the floor, deepening her desire to have his hands on her again.
He had reached her, gripped her thighs suddenly, nails digging in slightly. She closed her eyes, as his skin aligned with hers, as the heat from their bodies began to soothe, taking over the memory of their kiss in the rain.
His lips trailed her skin, from her stomach to her chest, chased droplets of rain over her body, to rest on her lips. His hands warmed and pricked, raising skin to meet his fingertips, as goosebumps pushed their way through her flesh, as a shiver danced across her skin.
Teeth gripped her nipple, tongue the soft curve of her cleavage, and he took her breasts in his hand. His motions gripped her middle, pulled indulgence and satisfaction from the depths of her, rocked her slightly as he pressed between her legs, as fingers danced with ease.
Her eyes closed and breath quickened. She gasped, clawed fingernails across his thick shoulders, and just as she found her rhythm, as the motions of his fingertips toyed with her, and her hips began to sway with him, he stopped.
Her eyes opened to see him hovering, and he leaned forward to kiss her, his tongue grazing across her bottom lip.
She watched as he moved across the floor, as his body shimmered from the remnants of the rain, as he moved to the kitchen. He was more defined than she remembered, and she sat forward to fully take in his form, the way his muscles tightened and released as he walked.
He knelt disappearing behind the kitchen island, and when he stood, he produced a bottle of Antarian Cider.
She gasped and stood, gingerly taking steps toward him. "I thought we had our last bottle on Voyager."
He raised his eyebrows, dimples coming to his cheeks. "I lied."
He opened the bottle and it made a delightful pop. He brought it to his lips and drank. He moved around the island toward her, offering her the bottle.
She drank and when she pulled it away, some cider dripped down her chin, following her neckline. She went to wipe it away, but he took her hand swiftly, and reached forward with his tongue instead. He followed the trail, taking her lips fiercely. He pushed her backward, until she reached the table.
"Get up," he commanded.
She smiled at him, fingers bracing, wrapping around the table's edge.
And when she did not move, he repeated slowly. "I said, 'Get up'."
She obliged, and lifted herself onto the table. He moved forward slowly, took the bottle from her hand and drank again. He pushed her legs apart gently, grazed the bottle along the inside of thigh until he was satisfied, and trailed the bottle up her body gently. He brought it to her lips, and she sipped. He pulled it from her lips abruptly, and the cider dripped down her body, to trail between her legs.
She smiled at him, raising an eyebrow.
"Oops." He smiled wide, teeth showing. "Let me get that." He tipped the bottle to pour a thin stream of cider down from her shoulder, following the pathway he had already created.
He leaned forward with lips and tongue and trailed slowly from her lips down her chin. He stopped to place a finger gingerly to her chin, took her lips again before he continued, moving down her chest to push her back slightly, to reach her breasts with his lips.
He pushed her backward onto the table, growling as he lifted her legs, and fell to his knees. With expert tongue, he dipped between her legs, and her hands reached forward, fingers entwining in his hair.
She closed her eyes as he began his work, as he immediately quickened to find her, to have the blood course upward through her body. Her breath tightened, gripped by the familiarity of his lips and the comfort of his touch.
The blackness began to course through her brain and she shook her head as the impulse shot its way upward, electrifying her skin.
She lifted herself to meet him. "We had a deal," she warned.
He rose from the floor. "I want you," was his reply.
"How do you want me?" she toyed, and she watched his touch leave her body, as his hand reached to the floor to pick up the bottle. He drank swiftly, tipped the bottle upward, keeping his eyes on her. He wiped a hand across his mouth, and his eyes narrowed, the dimples falling from his cheeks.
"Get down."
And when she obliged, he turned her around swiftly, and she had to reach forward to brace against the flat surface of the table.
His hands pressed against her shoulders, she heard him drink again, and he breathed.
"Spread your legs." His voice was low, his breath heated.
So she did, enslaved by his tone.
"Wider."
His hands pushed her further forward, until her breasts, her torso, became aligned with the surface.
He steadied himself, reaching for her hips, and pushed forward, thrusting himself within her quickly, hands returning to her back, to rock her hips against the table with his bodyweight. He reached forward, gripping skin, leading his way up to her neck. He held her head steady.
She smiled under his grip, as the pleasure shot through her legs. She reached out to grab the sides of the table and her eyes closed. A deep moan uttered from her throat as her middle tightened, as he eased into the motions, unafraid, enticingly taking control of her.
He braced her legs, her torso, and when the pleasure hit her quickly, from the motions, and the power he had over her, her hands shot outward. He released her suddenly, pulling her from the table while he pumped slowly within her.
She quivered in his hands, clutched his hand to her breast as she leaned against him. He stumbled slightly, and bringing her with him, and they fell to the floor once more, weakened by his control.
His kiss found her and he soothed as he moved down her chin, her neck, found her nipple and pulled it softly into his mouth. He placed his head to her chest. Felt the rise and fall of her breath, stayed there silently listening to the sound of her heartbeat.
She reached down, placed a hand to the back of his head, and he exhaled looking up at her.
"You didn't have to stop on my account," she gasped. "I told you I won't break."
"I just wanted to be sure you were okay."
"Of course I am."
"It's just..." He lifted himself to reach her face. He smiled, dimples returning, bringing with it their reassurance. "It's difficult for me to give you commands."
She laughed and he joined her, and she reached for his face so she could kiss him. His hand moved between her legs and her mouth shot open from her sensitivity.
"But I see you enjoy it."
"It's a welcomed change." She reached between them, finding him still hard and moved her palm slowly up and down his shaft, safely secure in her grasp. "I want all of you. I want you to take me completely over the edge."
He rolled on top of her, moved her thighs to the side, entering her easily.
She released a short breath as her pushed within her. "I've never completely trusted myself with anyone. I've never been this free with anyone. I know I'm safe here with you, and it's wonderful."
"You're wonderful."
Her legs moved to straddle his sides as he moved within her. Her hands moved to his chest, and she dug her nails into him.
"Shut up and fuck me, Chakotay."
He dipped his head forward, dimples deepening. "Yes, ma'am."
=/\=
The had clawed and gripped and thrust their way to the bedroom, skin raw and red never parting; chafed parts of her body, tender from his exploration. They were bruised in places they had forgotten existed, and her body remembered his shape, always waiting for him.
They gasped for breath, knowing they each could give more to one another. Seven years of pent up looks, and smiles, and touches, and innuendos. Seven years of almosts and what-could-bes and what-ifs. Seven years of meals and wants and needs. Seven years of daydreams and sought after release.
Hours moved by easily, without thought, without restraint; hours of their bodies rippling against each other. He was in complete control of her; her hands held tightly behind her back. She straddled him as they sat upright.
She wasn't sure how her legs supported her body weight, but she trusted his hands, that he would never let her fall. So she continued to writhe on him, grinding, asking him for more, begging for the moment to never end.
"Tell me I'm yours," she said.
His white teeth shone in the darkness of his bedroom. "You're mine," he whispered. He moved slowly inside her, pushing upward, deeper.
"Like you mean it."
He released one of her hands and grasped the back of her hair, pulled her ear to his mouth. "You're mine," he said, voice surging with seduction.
She smiled and ground her hips against him. "Again."
"You're mine." He thrust deeper within her.
"Please. Again."
His teeth found her earlobe. "Mine."
She released a gasp, let her body go limp as he lowered her on her back. He continued to growl her name, moving wildly, taking her over. Her mind began to go dark, lost in her passion, his control was freeing; breaking down her walls.
She moaned as her hands left his body, arms falling limp as he continued. His hands were grasping her frantically, one supporting his body, until he found her leg, and lifted it to his mouth. His teeth moved against her skin, and he quickened his movements.
She looked up exhausted, completely vulnerable beneath him, giving in as he took control.
And with a final push, Kathryn Janeway had fallen, deeply tumbling within a sweet surrender.
=/\=
He wakes suddenly, eyes opening to the ambient purple glow of the room.
He blinks rapidly, adjusting to the light of the room and rotates his head, cracking his neck. He looks in front of him, missing her form, and pulls his hands from the blanket rubbing his eyes.
"Computer," he waits for the familiar beep. "What time is it currently?"
"The time is 0400 hours."
Just another hour and he would need to get up. Need to return to the bridge. Need to head to her Ready Room to begin his day with their meeting and his morning report.
He pulls the blanket from his body, lifting it one last time to his nose and inhales. Ghosted memories of her scent cling to the fabric and he closes his eyes, engraining it into his memory.
He places two feet on the floor and slowly lifts himself from his cozy confines.
He finds his boots where he has left them; neatly placed against the chair he once sat in. He is careful not to trip over his Captain's boots which lay scattered over the floor.
He pauses, hesitating by the door and turns to tread softly across the floor.
He can see her darkened form sleeping soundly in her bed, a sheet carefully placed over her, a bare arm peeking out from the blanket.
He breathes quietly, afraid to wake her, and his mind wanders.
Just how close do we get? she had asked.
What would have happened if he hadn't been honest with her? What could have become of them if he had truly told her how he felt?
Would today have been different? Would he have been curled beside her now? Carefully caressing that shoulder? Would he have been sleeping soundly beside her, completely caught up in her presence, with no use of dreaming of that moment.
Could he have been honest with her? That it was her that had always kept them at a distance, that it was always her that pushed them away.
Could he have found the courage, knowing she knew how he felt? Could he have finally been free to say the words that gripped him? And hear her return them - those three little words.
=/\=
It was moments later when their breathing had returned to normal. When the room around them had quieted. When the air cooled their bodies once again.
She was spent, unable to reach out for him. Her body was raw and red, and sweat had left a sticky film all over her. She needed a shower; needed the heat of the water to soothe her aching muscles, but she could not move. It took all her strength to roll on her side and drape an arm over his chest.
He offered a reassuring touch to her wrist
"I have accepted the promotion, Chakotay," she whispered in the dark. "I'm ready to begin this new journey." She offered him a tired smile.
He turned his head toward her. "And are you happy with your decision?"
"If it means you'll be with me."
He smiled. "Always."
"Good." She released a shallow sigh. "Because I will need your support. Now, more than ever."
He rolled toward her, inhaled as he draped a tired arm over her body. "I have you," Chakotay hushed. "I always have. I would never let you fall."
She looked up slowly, found his eyes in the dark. "I love you," Kathryn said deeply.
He released a breath, tightened a smile to his lips. "Tell me again," he commanded.
She smiled. "I love you."
"Mmmm." He drew her against his body. "Again."
"I love you."
"Please...Again." He kissed her nose.
She closed her eyes, sleep threatening to take hold of her, and then,
"I love you."
Coming Soon: Chapter 14 "Fall on Me" and Chapter 15 "To Build a Home"...