AN: Big thank you once again to the ever-patient northernexposure for spending time beta reading this loooong chapter for me! Her time is precious, so I am hugely grateful to her, and her suggestions are always absolutely spot on. If you haven't already started reading her new story 'Across the Sky in Stars', then go read it now! It's fantastic. Big thank you also to the long-suffering Photogirl1890, who works her quiet way through the oceans of JCness I send her without complaint, to perform her legendary post-messing typo check.

Thank you also to everyone who has reviewed here and on AO3. I hadn't intended to write any more fanfic, but I discovered these characters were still very much under my skin!

Chapter three

"Mind if I cut in?" Chakotay asked innocently, addressing his question to both Kathryn and Guy Baldwin, while already placing a hand on the small of Kathryn's back.

"Actually-" Guy began.

"I'm shipping out in a couple of days," Chakotay spoke over him. "So this is the last chance I'll get to see Kathryn for a while. I'm sure you understand."

For once, good manners could go to hell.

If Kathryn was surprised, she masked it quickly. She accepted Chakotay's hand. Guy Baldwin's tight smile didn't reach his pale eyes. He nodded and held up his hands. "Of course."

Chakotay slid his hand around Kathryn's back to guide her into hold. She came willingly.

"That was rude!" she remarked once they'd moved out of Baldwin's earshot, but the spark in her eye could just as easily have been amusement as annoyance.

Chakotay brought his cheek to her temple. "I'm sure he'll live," he muttered into her hair, unrepentant. "I wanted to dance with you."

"You could have waited your turn." She sounded amused.

The feel of her compact form in his arms together with the tenuous control he had over his emotions at that moment made him incautious. "I wasn't sure my turn would ever come."

"What happened to your legendary patience?" she quipped.

"Everyone has their limits, Kathryn."

She pulled back enough to look up at him for a moment, arching a brow. "Noted." His pulse accelerated a little, more because of the look on her face than her reply.

He held her close and allowed her to fill his senses. There was the smell of her perfume, the softness of her hair against his cheek and the perfect weight of her hand in the crook of his as she began to move with him in increasing synchronicity. Chakotay could feel that familiar compelling heat building; the heat that used to come from nowhere whenever they were in close proximity.

He didn't feel guilty for causing her fiancé obvious discomfort. Maybe he should have, but he didn't. All he knew was that he couldn't bear to see her in the arms of another man for another second, and certainly not dancing to this. He'd have one last dance with her before he left. The next time he saw her she might well be Baldwin's wife.

If she was in love with Baldwin, and the dull ache in Chakotay's chest was the price of her happiness, then he would obviously accept it. He would find a way. But what if B'Elanna was right? What if Kathryn wasn't particularly happy with this man? The utter waste, the sheer futility of Kathryn and Chakotay both settling for something less than… That could not be allowed to happen. He pulled her closer still. The feel of her pressed against his chest through his thin white shirt raised the temperature between them a little further. He half-expected her to push back or tell him in no uncertain terms to release her. She didn't.

After the initial slow build up of the first verse, during which Chakotay held Kathryn close, the musicians were now beginning to add layer after layer of complexity. Gradually, the tempo increased as well, until the music called out for activity and movement, the rhythm fast enough now to leave little time or space for reflection. This suited Chakotay just fine. He gave himself over completely to the feel of Kathryn in his arms and to the rhythm of the music he loved.

He began to lead her through the beginning of the routine they'd tried to practise together in the run up to talent night. Her arms became an extension of his as they turned and twisted in and out of the various moves he'd choreographed all those years ago. He discovered he hadn't forgotten the sequences and neither, it seemed, had she. Kathryn followed his lead seamlessly. They circled one another, perfect tension in their outstretched arms, their hands clasped together. He pulled her in, flicked her hands up so she held them high as he grasped her firmly around the waist to spin her twice. Then he stopped her rotation dead in order to send her round again on a free turn whilst simultaneously taking a spin himself, timed to mirror her movement.

Her eyes shone with the challenge, looking to Chakotay as her fixed point as she spotted her turns. The restaurant, the guests, everything outside their intimate orbit of double rotation was a blur to him. Whenever he threw in a new move, Kathryn let out a captivating sound of delight or surprise. His heart beat in time with the music. Nothing beyond her existed for him as they turned, tapped and glided their way around the well-seasoned wooden floor. The tension that had been building between them all evening fuelled their performance, as did the fact that Chakotay was no longer holding himself in check. Dancing with Kathryn was pure pleasure. The routine was everything it always should have been and more.

The music carried them to the final bars of lively crescendo. Chakotay spun her towards him in a free turn. As she spun in, rather than allowing her approaching hand to reconnect with his, he guided her arm around behind him. His left forearm supporting her back, his other hand splayed out across the sheer fabric covering her ribcage, his fingertips just below her breasts. Kathryn followed his cue, trusting her full weight to him as she arched backwards into a dip. Laughing with delight, she threw her head back with gusto and extended her free arm to finish the move with an elegant flourish.

Chakotay was dimly aware of applause beginning to fill the room. Slowly, he brought Kathryn back up with his supporting forearm, all the while holding her gaze, until the full length of her was flush against him. His hand on her ribcage slid down to rest on the side of her waist. He held her firmly in his embrace and looked down at her lips. Her very close lips. His better self should have been disgusted by the blatantly seductive and sensual way in which he had more or less moulded her pliant form against him, but his better self was noticeably silent. The rest of him would have struggled to let her go if his life had depended on it.

For a long hot moment, they stayed as they were. Kathryn was probably asking herself whether he was going to lean down and try to kiss her, just as he had the last time they'd danced salsa together five years ago. It was a fair question, because, if the noise of the applause hadn't brought him to his senses, he might have found himself doing just that. Something fiery in her eyes suggested she might have welcomed his mouth on hers again, despite everything that should have made that an impossibility.

Seconds later, aware of his surroundings once more, Chakotay slowly released her. Rather than step away from him, she turned in his embrace to face the band, her back flush with his chest. She joined the other guests in applauding. Only then did Chakotay feel the smiling eyes of other guests on them as he realised that some of the applause wasn't for the band. At an earlier point in their dance routine, they must have captured the attention of those around them, turning them into an unwitting part of the evening's entertainment.

A flush rose up his neck. If only he could just order a site-to-site for them both and steal her away. Kathryn looked back at him and smiled, apparently unfazed by the attention of the other guests. Then she casually placed her hand on his shoulder while she leaned down to adjust her shoe. He enjoyed the proprietary familiarity of the gesture. Her fiancé, doubtless, would not.

Chakotay looked over to see Baldwin already making his way towards them from the bar. He already had Chakotay in his sights, his mouth was a thin tight line and his gaze was cool and unflinching. Neither man smiled.

Kathryn's head came back up. "I'm out of breath after that," she confided. "Now I'm a desk-bound admiral I'm probably not in such good shape as when I was captain."

"Fishing, Kathryn?" Chakotay teased, his hand resting lightly on her back while he continued to watch her approaching fiancé.

Kathryn swatted his arm and laughed.

Chakotay looked at her and moistened his lips, all of his attention hers again. "You look in pretty good shape to me."

She smiled, fingering the wisps of hair that fell on her neck, apparently comfortable with the full sweep of his openly appreciative gaze.

Just what part was she playing here exactly?

Once again, Chakotay felt a spark of irritation with her, but as Baldwin drew nearer still, a more powerful feeling extinguished the first. It was a desperate longing for more time. One dance simply wasn't enough. It was too damn soon to say goodbye to her.

He used her elbow to turn her away from Baldwin before she'd seen him.

"Kathryn, can we take a walk?"

"Okay." She eyed him cautiously, her slow drawl infused with curiosity.

He guided her towards the steps down to the beach. At the bottom, he realised immediately that her patent heels were not going to like the sand. To their left, a few metres away, a wooden boardwalk ran along the top of the thin belt of sandy beach, lit at intervals by the same lanterns that adorned the edge of the beachfront restaurant. Chakotay looked at Kathryn, at the beach, at the boardwalk and then back to her. Taking his life into his hands, he stepped decisively into her, sweeping her off her feet and into his arms in one fluid motion. She spluttered out surprised laughter as he carried her the short distance to the wooden causeway. For such a strong looking woman, she was surprisingly light. It was a thought he'd had several times before; the times he'd carried her prostrate body out of dire circumstances on the far side of the galaxy in that other life they'd led.

He set her down carefully, giving her time to find her footing in the near darkness. "Sorry if that – if all this – " he scratched the back of his neck, then motioned vaguely to their surroundings, stumbling for words, "is a little – a little unexpected." Forcing himself to meet her expectant gaze, he offered her his arm as they began to walk. "I'm having trouble sticking to the script tonight," he managed, his words spoken to the floor.

Kathryn leant her weight on his arm. "Actually, I've been wanting to tell you something about that script." She reached up and husked conspiratorially into his ear. "I made a few significant changes a couple of weeks ago."

"Changes?" He shot her a sideways look.

"I didn't expect Guy to come tonight."

"You didn't?" Chakotay's sixth sense tingled.

"I broke off the engagement a couple of weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since."

"You broke off the engagement?"

You sound like a parrot, man! He cursed himself.

"Yes. We were together when Phoebe sent out the invitations," Kathryn replied. "I didn't think he'd still want to come after I'd called things off between us. It was a surprise when he turned up just as we were leaving the hotel to come here this evening."

Chakotay concentrated on his footing on the uneven boards, off balance once again, this time because her words had made him suddenly so much lighter. He was used to thinking on his feet, but even so, sometimes it'd be nice to be able to hit pause and rewind.

She isn't engaged. They're not even together anymore. She's not engaged. Kathryn is not engaged.

Caution and hope vied for dominance as he tried to order his thoughts. He would not get ahead of himself. Of course, this didn't necessarily mean she wanted anything more than their friendship back.

Then again, she did choose to wear that dress…

Perhaps she just wanted a little post-relationship ego-boost? His attraction to her had always been pretty damn obvious during those seven long years, and basking in its glow seemed to warm her cooling blood when she'd hit a low spot. She used to do things to elicit a reaction from him. There was that slow crooked smile she knew he loved; those heated looks that lingered a little too long over dinner; a hand left a fraction too long on his arm, his shoulder, his chest. And it wasn't as if she was above manipulating people a little, or even a lot, from time to time, and Chakotay could always be relied upon to provide that spark of poorly disguised attraction.

But regardless of what was going on in her head, surely, cards on the table was the best approach; although he found he still needed a run up to revealing his hand.

"You said things hadn't gone to plan this evening," he began cautiously, aware he'd already been silent for too long. "What plan would that be exactly?"

They arrived at the point where the short boardwalk ended. Ahead, the thin slice of beach finally tapered away to nothing but low rocks and the sea. Chakotay and Kathryn looked at one another. He shrugged and she smiled. Then they turned as one to walk back the way they'd come, falling into stride again easily, her arm still through his. He kept his gaze on the wooden boards ahead, on tenterhooks as he hung on her answer.

"The plan, Kathryn? For tonight?" he prompted, his tone light, when several more seconds passed and still no answer was forthcoming.

"Well, I had been hoping to spend some time with you," she started slowly, her voice a little less steady than before. "I'd hoped the setting and the wonderful band Phoebe and Federico had chosen might bring a certain memory to the fore." She stole a glance at him, then looked down at herself. "I thought this outfit might jog your memory."

He felt his face crack into a grin. "It might have had a certain impact." This night was taking some surprising turns for the better. So much better.

She angled her head his way. "Didn't quite go to plan when Guy appeared at the last minute."

"Can't say I'm surprised he's here. Any sensible man isn't going to give up easily on you, Kathryn."

Chakotay almost felt sorry for him. The corner of his mouth tugged upwards. Almost. "But you only need to jog someone's memory if they've forgotten," he pointed out.

"I was under the impression you had." She wagged an elegant finger at him. "My spies tell me you've been on several away missions since we got back."

"I didn't need spies to see you've been on an extended away mission." He tried to keep the jealousy out of his voice.

"How did your away missions go?" she asked, her expression betraying very little.

"Shuttle crash analogies come to mind," he deadpanned.

Kathryn laughed through her reply. "Can't say mine was a great deal more successful. The engagement lasted a week. The minute I began to think about spending the rest of my life with him, I suddenly saw it for what it was."

In the hope she'd say more if she didn't feel under scrutiny, Chakotay stopped himself from watching how the shadows from the lanterns played across her expressive face as she spoke. He kept his gaze on the boardwalk instead. His restraint was soon rewarded.

"I can't believe I ever agreed to get engaged to him. But Guy Baldwin can be very persistent."

He tilted his head. "In my experience, persistence can get you further than you'd think."

"He was also one big mistake."

"We should all be allowed to make at least one big one."

The look they exchanged spared him from having to name his. He felt a rush of gratitude for the lack of reproach in her eyes. Kathryn was a compassionate woman; she had never held his mistakes against him. Which was a damn good thing, because in the past, when he'd screwed up, he'd screwed up big time.

They'd arrived back at the point where they'd joined the boardwalk. They came to a stop. This time, without a word, Kathryn moved closer and slid her arm up around his neck, making it easier for him to reach down and scoop her up. Once he'd carried her the few steps across the sand, he was tempted to hold her there in his arms longer than necessary, but his skin prickled with the distinct feeling of being watched. He looked up. Sure enough, Tom and B'Elanna were looking down on them. He set Kathryn down.

"Tom, B'Elanna," Chakotay greeted them as he and Kathryn ascended the steps. "Still enjoying the party?"

"Well, they're still serving champagne which is good," B'Elanna smiled, "but the dance floor is full of octogenarians and toddlers now."

Kathryn laughed. "Look out for Aunt Martha. She does some mean interpretive dancing."

Tom laughed. "Seems all the Janeway women are impressive on the dance floor."

Kathryn smiled and took a mock bow. "Glad you were entertained."

"Guy asked me to pass a message on to you," Tom told her. "He left. Said he had an early meeting tomorrow."

"I see," she replied. "Thank you, Tom." She avoided Paris's gaze, her mouth twitching slightly.

Chakotay failed to avoid Paris's piercing blue eyes, but found nothing there to make him uncomfortable.

Tom turned to B'Elanna. "We should probably leave soon too."

"It's still early!" she protested.

"I just think it'd be a good idea not to stay out too late. First night with a new nanny and all that."

"You're worried about Miral?" Kathryn asked him.

"I'm worried about the nanny," he replied. "She didn't look tough enough to me. Miral will probably have her in a headlock by now."

"She's six months old, Tom!" Torres exclaimed.

Janeway laughed and B'Elanna rolled her eyes.

Tom and B'Elanna left Chakotay and Kathryn at the top of the steps and continued their conversation as they walked towards the bar. Chakotay instinctively led Kathryn to the furthest corner of the moonlit decking, out of sight of most of the other guests. It felt too soon to rejoin the party.

Leaning back against the railing to bring himself down to Kathryn's height, he loosened his tie, opening his collar a few fingers' widths where it had started to feel too constricting. Kathryn positioned herself close beside him, facing out into the night. Chakotay's stomach seemed to be fluttering somewhere it shouldn't be. His heart filled with trepidation and hope. Maybe he was imagining it, but it was possible that at least some of those feelings were mirrored in Kathryn's eyes.

He cleared his throat, offering a silent prayer to any spirits who might be listening. "Kathryn, would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?"

She turned her full stellar smile on him. "Yes. I'd like that. Very much."

He grinned, excited, exhilarated. He let out a long, slow breath as the space inside his chest expanded, his internal landscape suddenly opening out to offer him vistas he hadn't contemplated seriously in years.

Then he tilted his head, smiling at her. "You know you could have just told me when you arrived that you and Baldwin were no longer together."

"Where would be the fun in that?" The glint in her eyes was positively wicked. Then she smiled. "But seriously, what would you have had me do? Just drop it into conversation with him standing right there?"

"Point taken. But it would have saved me a good hour or so of misery watching you with him."

"The last thing I'd planned for tonight was to make you miserable." Her gaze slanted down to his mouth. "Quite the opposite actually."

He swallowed. She hadn't done that in a while. A long while. His pulse speeded up. But then her gaze dropped to his chest and she shook her head slightly. When she spoke again it was with an open sadness he wasn't expecting. "But I've found managing personal issues hasn't been my strong suit in recent months." She looked out into the night again, "I think I just wanted to have every sphere of my life back under control. And in everything apart from my personal life, I have. I think I may have been trying to convince myself I could just step back into a life similar to the one I had with Mark. The life I was forced to leave behind."

"Makes sense," Chakotay murmured, low.

"And when Guy proposed, well, I guess I just wanted to be able to tick 'stable relationship' off my list too," she added, still looking out into the black, the coherence of her narrative appearing to be of great importance to her; possibly more so than it was to Chakotay. She shook her head and sighed. "After less than a week, I realised my heart wasn't in it. And… well," she turned back from the darkness to look directly into Chakotay's eyes, "for the past few weeks I've been asking myself whether I might have left it somewhere else."

He ducked his head for a second, smiling; then he met her gaze again. "I think I've been asking myself that same question. But for several months now."

Surprising him, she slinked slowly and cat-like halfway across his body, to position herself within the arc of his left arm. Following her cue, his hand came to rest on her hip. Slender fingers toyed with one of his shirt buttons, and he watched entranced as her other small pale hand came to rest on his bicep.

"I can't tell you how happy it makes me to hear you say that, Kathryn," he told her, his skin tingling as she continued to fiddle with his shirt button and her shimmering midnight-blue fingernails sparked hot points through his shirt. He shook his head and smiled ruefully. "I thought it was just me who was still thinking about everything that happened and didn't happen between us."

She looked up at him and quirked a brow. "I guess it's hardly news to either of us that appearances can be deceptive." Then her fingernail tapped his chest pointedly. "Although I did think B'Elanna might have told you how often I'd been asking after you in the past few weeks. And I certainly thought you'd get the message that I wanted to talk to you tonight, when I couldn't keep my eyes off you all evening!" She laughed, then she grew serious. "I remember a time when all I had to do was look at you and you seemed to know exactly what I was thinking."

The wistfulness of her tone found a corresponding ache in Chakotay's heart.

"I remember those times too." Hopefully they could relearn one another. He certainly felt hopeful now.

Her hand came to rest over his heart. "Then again," she went on, playful again, "I also remember a time when Tom Paris could be relied upon for certain things. You see, I may have let slip earlier to Tom about having called off my engagement. That used to be more than enough to get the scuttlebutt running."

Chakotay ducked his head and smiled as the pieces fell into place. "Actually, I think it probably still is."

Then she surprised him again by lifting her hand and brushing the backs of her fingers oh-so-lightly against his cheek. "I was hoping we could try to get to know one another as the people we are now. Now that we're home. As two people who have a choice about whether and how exactly they'd like to be intimately connected."

Completely enthralled, he watched her face. He didn't want her touch to stop. "Get to know one another without constrictions?" he offered.

"Different constrictions," she pointed out, her fingers drifting down from his cheek, then his chin, to curl into the slight opening of his shirt where he'd loosened his tie earlier. "You're captaining a star ship. I'm an Admiral based on Earth."

"True. But I like to think those things are just logistics. There's nothing there we couldn't work out."

"I'd like to think so too."

She fell silent, her gaze lowering to his chest, her own thoughts taking her somewhere else for a moment. When she looked up again, the corner of her mouth slanted up. "I'd been hoping we'd get the chance to dance together this evening. I was so glad when you finally cut in."

"Some risks are definitely worth taking." He grinned.

Her eyes twinkled, dark blue in the moonlight. "You know it occurs to me, Chakotay, dancing salsa with you me made me wonder whether George Bernard Shaw might have had a point."

"Can't say I'm familiar."

"He was a writer in the twentieth century. I remember reading once that he said dancing was the vertical expression of a horizontal desire legalised by music."

Laughter took Chakotay by surprise. Then he leaned in close to her delicate ear. "Is this your way of saying you have horizontal designs on me, Kathryn?"

Her gravel and honey drawl sent tingles down his spine. "Well, I've always looked better horizontal."

"I see. Or rather, I'd like to." Anticipation had his heart beating faster again as she slowly manoeuvred herself between his legs. This was all so very different from the way he'd expected things to turn out when he'd set off to come here this evening.

He pulled her closer, intoxicated by the feel of her compact form pressed against him. "How soon would it be polite for the sister of the bride to slip away from this party?" he asked.

It was her turn to laugh. "I think I ought to stay a little longer. Do you think you can stay vertical for another fifteen minutes?"

"Vertical works for me too," he murmured, low.

She seemed to shiver delightfully in his arms.

He lifted his hand and it settled on her cheek. She turned into his palm a fraction. "Although you should know that I have no intention of rushing you into anything," he emphasised. "I don't want to risk being another mistake you give marching orders to after only a week."

"No need to worry on that count. I'm through with rushing into anything." She smiled. "Getting things right between us may take a little time. There are conversations we need to have. But I have a strong feeling that good things come to she who waits."

He gently took her chin and brought her lips to within a hair's breadth of his. "And I have a strong feeling I'm going to enjoy getting to know Alpha Quadrant Kathryn Janeway better."

"Time for a different kind of exploring," she husked as she reached up to close the tiny space he'd left between their lips.

Her kiss was everything he needed it to be – demanding, responsive, and sinfully skilful. Her fingers twisted into the collar of his shirt as she had her deliciously wicked way with him. When she pulled back, the look in her eyes told him she was well aware she'd left him desperately craving more. With a single kiss she had claimed him as hers again.

When he materialised on the bridge of what was then her ship all those years ago, Chakotay suspected he'd finally found someone to turn him upside down and nail his feet up where his head should be. If that made him the King of Fools, then so be it. He'd wear that crown proudly, because life was so much better with Kathryn Janeway in it.

XxX

"So, shall we dance?"

"Again?"

"Tired already, Admiral?"

"Not at all. I feel like this night is still young."

"So let's dance."

"You don't think we've made enough of a spectacle of ourselves for one night?"

"My people have a saying," he watched as her crooked smile appeared, right on cue, as he knew it would, "although I suspect we may have borrowed this one from another culture: 'We're fools whether we dance or not, so we might as well dance'."

"In that case, lead the way." Her hand waved him forward.

He gestured for her to precede him instead. She did, and he followed her onto the dance floor to join the few remaining couples slow-dancing to the late evening wind-down music that was playing. Phoebe Janeway and her new husband were watching them from across the room.

Chakotay gently clasped Kathryn's shoulders from behind, dipping his head to drop his words close to the delicate shell of her ear. "Actually, my people have quite a bit to say when it comes to dancing. There's another one I remember: 'To watch us dance is to hear our hearts speak'."

Kathryn turned into his arms, slowly, sultrily, and looked up at him. She placed her hand in his. "I like that one better."

"Me too," he replied, as they began to move as one.

[The end.]