Disclaimer: The members of the crew of Voyager are not mine; they belong to Paramount.
Rating: T for the language. :)
Notes: Thanks to Cheile, who looked over the first section and kicked my ass into more careful word selection. ;)
"They weren't wearing uniforms. You're sure they're the same race as the other two?"
"No question. The facial features, the body structures are nearly identical. And that shuttle we shot down had the same energy readings as the ship in Bay Two."
Two voices, oddly familiar, were his first connection with reality.
"I wonder how many more of them there are, then. I like the looks of some of the men…sturdy. There must be a larger ship of them."
"Why do you say that?"
"Those shuttles aren't built for long-range travel, and yet they're in excellent condition, even though these little alien beauties obviously aren't from this sector."
"If there are more to be had, you'll find them, eventually."
There was a snort of laughter. "Of course I will. But don't think this gets you off the hook for snatching the first two without my permission, Enahr."
The first voice, low and clear, held an undeniable air of danger to it, for some reason. Chakotay thought he should know the voice but nothing really seemed to make sense. Something nudged his back, but he couldn't say what. He couldn't say much of anything…and he definitely couldn't move. His every muscle ached, screamed with tension: a heavy stun setting. The aftereffects were unmistakable.
"Yes. Delicious specimen, this one," the first voice continued to drawl, this time from much closer. "Nicely muscled, but let's do something about toning him up."
"Of course." The second voice, slightly higher, didn't concern him as much.
"The men will fetch a handsome profit. Damned Orans are so thin. And the Myrani are impossible to sell with their weak constitutions and disgusting, flaky epidermis. It'll be nice to have some variety to offer our clients for once."
The words washed over him, but their meaning wasn't sinking in. How had he been stunned? Who had shot him? He found he couldn't recall. He also couldn't move, but for another reason besides the stun effects: something was restricting the exploratory flexing of his sore arms and legs. Vaguely, he came to the baffling conclusion that he was restrained for some reason.
"And the woman?"
Silence. Then: "Check her over. See what she looks like, how she's constructed. Let me know if there's anything worth salvaging there. If there isn't, we'll have to kill her. I want to look in on our heading, make sure it isn't too direct. Don't want anyone coming after the cargo, after all."
"Take your time, Enlin. I'll take care of them down here until you get back."
There came the sound of fading footsteps, then the creaking of something heavy swinging open, probably a door…
"And Enahr?"
"Yes?" The second voice, Enahr's, came from nearer Chakotay's ear this time, from closer to his side. The alien sounded as though he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't…
"No sampling the merchandise yet, eh? Not until we determine what value, if any, she'll fetch on the market. This one doesn't look too hardy, and I don't want you detracting from what little value she might be hiding under that outfit."
She. It flooded back to him, hitting him without warning and he jolted fully awake, finally. Kathryn. They'd been hiding, hiding from…
He forced his eyes wide open, frantically searching for any sign of her. She'd been hit…oh, Spirits, this time she might really have…!
She was right in front of him, lying next to him on the metallic, grated floor. She, too, was bound hand and foot, and more and more of her was becoming visible as her clothing fell away under the ministrations of the slaver called Enahr. He couldn't see her blue eyes from this angle, but he was willing to bet that they were glaring their captor down with a vengeance. By this point she was in her underwear, and Chakotay, automatically glancing downward over himself, saw that he seemed to have been stripped down, too…
"Get off," she hissed, her throat sounding sore and her voice rusty. Still, there was no denying the classic fire in that tone, and Chakotay was briefly relieved to note that it seemed as though she'd recover from the effects of the stun.
He also took a half second to note the spattering of heavy bruising evident along the left side of her mostly bare back: from the fall, or from his own weight when he'd landed squarely atop her?
He couldn't tell, but it looked like it hurt and he winced in sympathy.
The man laughed as Chakotay watched Kathryn's body jerk back from the alien's pawing hands with a healthy amount of vigor for someone who'd just been stunned…
Shit. His hands and feet were bound with unforgiving metal restraints…as were hers. Just what the hell was he supposed to do now? Damn it, he was really going to strangle her: this was entirely Kathryn's fault. If she'd stayed put, as he'd begged her to…if she wasn't so damned curious about every last blasted thing in the galaxy… If she wasn't so damned headstrong and contrary…
She wouldn't be the woman you love, the little voice in his head reminded him.
For the billionth time, he wished she wasn't that woman. Then, maybe, he wouldn't be headed to the early grave she seemed intent upon digging for him at every opportunity…
Enahr grasped her firmly by the shoulders, pulling her wriggling form back towards him and across the grated floor. "Easy," he chuckled lightly, "No use fighting me, you aren't going anywhere anyway…"
Watching the confident man grin made him queasy. "Hey, friend…hands off!" Chakotay snarled, more than angry at the cloaked man's audacity and simultaneously enraged that she'd gotten herself, and him, into yet another dangerous situation.
His throat was parched, and his voice was no clearer than Kathryn's. He knew that dehydration was a standard side effect of being stunned, but he'd bet a week's rations that the stifling heat in the dirty room was responsible for at least half of his incredible thirst. He'd kill for a glass of water…
And he'd start with the creep manhandling the woman he loved.
Enahr merely glanced lazily over at him, unimpressed. "I see you're awake," he leered, grinning toothily. "How's the head?"
Chakotay glared at the smug man, doing his level best to burn the alien with the heat of his eyes alone. "It's fine." It hurt like hell. "Thanks for asking. And unless you back off, when I get out of these cuffs, I'm going to make you sorry your mother ever brought you into this galaxy," the commander promised evenly.
The alien sneered, giving Chakotay an excellent view of his oddly lined, black skin and glinting, pointy teeth. He stared Voyager's first officer in the eyes while he pointedly began familiarizing himself with the slim body in front of him. "Sorry," he shrugged, looking anything but repentant. "I have to see how she's put together so we can determine where to market her. Orders and all, you understand?" He paused briefly, before inquiring slyly, "Why? Was she yours?"
He knew better than to answer that one. Kathryn's shoulders stiffened visibly and Chakotay took a half second to be annoyed by it. Nice, he thought disgustedly, she's got some alien bastard mauling her, yet it's the mere idea that someone might think we're a couple that gets her hackles raised…
Enahr pulled the edge of her bra aside, peeking over the material with a quick grin for Chakotay's benefit.
He couldn't help it; he growled, and opened his mouth to reiterate his point more clearly, but she beat him to it.
"Ever heard of scanning equipment, Mister Enahr?" she drawled at him through very audibly gritted teeth, her voice all icy sarcasm as she made no secret of her complete disdain for his tactics. Her tone would have frozen the man in his tracks if he had been one of her people.
But of course he wasn't. Enahr only smiled, alternating that infuriating grin between the two humans as he continued his "inspection". "She always this spirited?" he inquired tauntingly of the helpless human just behind her.
If you only knew, Chakotay lamented silently. His eyes caught for a moment at the sight of her glorious red hair, which had fallen mostly free from its clasp at the nape of her neck, spilling in a disheveled tangle over her elegantly curved back. Hating himself for his weakness, he couldn't help but find the contrast between her white skin – did she ever get off the ship and get any natural sunlight…no, of course she didn't – against the rich, auburn tones of her long hair deeply distracting. He silently prayed that Enahr's species didn't share their views of aesthetics with humans.
Lifting her with one muscled arm, Enahr adjusted and readjusted her remaining clothing with unfortunate ease, and took his time accomplishing his task. Laughing at the growl from the other human, he directed his words at the captain, pulling her face up to within inches of his. "Now why would I use a scanner when the old fashioned way works just as well…and has ten times the benefit?"
He clucked a forked tongue, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "You're trying to take all the fun out of my job, honey!"
Kathryn froze momentarily, blinking into the alien's mocking eyes. What the hell had he just called her?
Honey?? Chakotay was torn between a snort of inappropriate laughter and a groan of pain.
She'd take more than the fun out of him…if she could ever manage to get out of these things… Honey?! Janeway muttered under her breath, swearing, wriggling her hands as much as possible within the tight metal of the restraints. They dug into her wrists, painfully bruising, but she continued to work at them, doing her best to ignore the almost unbearable ache in her ankle, which was now doubly swollen around its tight restraint…
She realized that he'd heard her idle threats when he regarded her impassively for a long moment, and she waited with slight apprehension to see his reaction…
He only patted her cheek in a condescending fashion, saying: "Well, honey, I can't say much for your assets so far. Not much better than an Oran…fairly worthless, from what I can tell."
"Thanks," Janeway deadpanned, unsure whether to be grateful she wasn't an ideal "product", or mortified that her first officer was here to listen to Enahr's frank appraisal of her physical attributes. Great. Not only am I not blond, not Borg, and not young, but as he so kindly felt the need to point out…in front of Chakotay…I'm not exactly well-endowed, either.
"Really, with all that wonderful technology on your shuttles, you're telling me you couldn't have…helped nature along a bit?"
Like the doctor "helped it along" with Seven of Nine? She couldn't help wondering bitterly, before she could stop herself.
Kathryn's face absolutely burned with mortification. When she thought about it, she really had been stupid to believe that the most eligible bachelor on her ship had wanted her at all. Sure, when he hadn't had any other options, maybe…
At least he still seemed to hate the very idea of Seven of Nine, enough not to have noticed her striking looks…yet. But Janeway had already resolved that the commander would be kept out of the young woman's care as much as possible. She'd told herself that the reason for her decision was to avoid any awkwardness over the fact that Chakotay had, in fact, tried to space the drone, but the fact that she'd made the decision at the exact moment the doctor had so proudly revealed the Borg drone to be an amply endowed, blond beauty…
She absolutely refused to contemplate what that said about her – as a woman or as a captain.
"You're downright skinny, too," the alien grunted, still idly looking her over for defects.
Kathryn threw him a mock look of regret. "So sorry to disappoint you," she grated, glad that Chakotay at least couldn't see her now undeniably burning face. "I don't suppose you'll let us go now, seeing as we're so worthless?" Ever the consummate diplomat, she mustered a half convincing smile and stopped working at her bonds. "Really, you know, if you did, we could both forget about this entire incident and be on our way…"
Enahr cocked his head to the side. "You're worthless. Mostly. We were just going to shoot you." He jerked a thumb in Chakotay's direction. "But then you met up with this one. And he's built for hard labor, there's no questioning that. There's always the chance we can sell you as a pair to be bred off later. Between the two of you, we stand to make a nice little sum."
Oh, fantastic. This was getting better and better by the second. She debated telling him that conception of any children was unlikely given the contraceptive shots each of the crew took on a regular basis but decided against it. The captain wouldn't give him the satisfaction of any additional details about Voyager or its people. Doing so would only put the ship in danger, and she'd no idea of the tactical capabilities Enahr's people possessed.
She wondered where Voyager was, and how long it would take for Tuvok to find them. The slight vibrations beneath her – the ones the physicists were always swearing didn't really exist – told her that they were definitely on a ship traveling at warp speed. She wondered where Tom and Harry were being held; there was no doubt in her mind now that Enlin…or someone who worked for him…had captured her missing crewmen.
"Get. Your. Hands. OFF of her," Chakotay repeated, not trusting the man's apparent disinterest in Kathryn, especially as it was at complete odds with the alien's still wandering eyes and the glint the commander recognized in them.
They both ignored him, Janeway trying once again to reason with their captor, who finally removed his groping hands, if only briefly.
"Really, it can't be worth all this trouble. My…partner and I are wealthy, you know."
If by "wealthy" one meant having nothing, except for a barely adequately staffed starship in desperate need of both supplies and repair…it didn't detract from the sincerity in her husky voice in the slightest. "We can compensate you for whatever profit you might stand to lose by letting us go."
Enahr simply laughed again, making Janeway itch to work her hands free just so she could smack that irritating grin off his face. "Oh, no, I don't think so." He turned his gaze downward again. "You're not that bad, honey; you're nicely proportioned overall. And your skin is quite soft: feels very nice to the touch." He touched a leathery fingertip to her cheek, tapping lightly. "And you have beautiful eyes. Makes me wonder what they would look like smoldering with passion…"
Wonder all you want, but you'll never find out, Janeway and Chakotay both thought darkly at the same time.
Enahr grinned even more toothily. "If we can't sell you, then I'll probably get to keep you. And, lucky for you, I don't mind that you're skinny; we'll probably enhance you anyway before trying to sell you."
"Yes, lucky me," she repeated dully. Her heart sank. Not that she'd expected it to be that easy, but she found herself hoping that they could somehow get out of this relatively unscathed and with no one the worse for wear...
The mention of "enhancing" her was strangely not as frightening as it probably should have been. Kathryn found herself wondering what these enhancements would entail, and whether or not they would do anything for her "lack of assets"…
"I'm warning you, Enahr!" Chakotay's furious voice growled from somewhere over her shoulder. "Back off!"
Kathryn was much less concerned than she knew Chakotay was. She'd been conscious for some several minutes longer than he had, and she'd had the opportunity to observe the interaction between their captors more closely. She knew that Enahr, the one with them in the cargo hold, was completely subordinate to Enlin, the apparent leader of this…smuggling ring…or whatever their operation was most accurately termed. Enahr had been ordered not to harm her, at least not significantly, and she knew he wouldn't disobey those orders. He seemed to have a healthy fear of Enlin: Enahr wouldn't risk antagonizing him.
No, what concerned her was the sheer inconvenience of being pawed by the oaf in front of her, the sharp pain the restraints were shooting through her injured ankle, and the embarrassment of knowing that Chakotay was staring at her appallingly scantily clad backside all the while. Her appallingly scantily clad skinny backside…Though maybe, she mused sarcastically to herself, they'll enhance that, too...
She wondered what Chakotay would think if they did…
Of course it could have been worse, and she'd far prefer that it was Chakotay who saw her in her underwear, if it had to be anyone from the ship. But she couldn't help feeling that he was staring at her. She thought she could feel his familiar eyes on her skin and found herself wondering whether he was comparing her to the younger…and most likely firmer…Riley Frazier. She knew she was flushed this time, but attributed it to the obscene heat of the cargo hold in which she and her first officer were being held.
She was thoroughly ashamed at herself for her selfish thoughts of late. And the shame she felt at her abysmally stupid, entirely over-reactive behavior down on the planet…a healthy dose of self-hatred flooded through her. This was entirely her fault. She was, frankly, only getting what she deserved for putting the two of them in danger with her lack of caution…for putting her crew in danger by not being properly informed about a potentially dangerous region of space. It didn't matter that all the local, independent reports had confirmed the Myrani governor's assertions.
On a side (but somewhat related) note, it didn't matter that her first officer, for whom she had inappropriately and potentially devastatingly fallen, had pursued her first. She was an adult, mature, and smart enough to know better. She should have guarded herself more carefully.
More importantly, she should stop giving him more of her shuttles to crash into planets: planets either with or without gorgeous blonds who…
Damn, she was doing it again!
She used the intensity of her self-loathing to pack even more heat into her glare. Kathryn endured the rest of Enahr's explorations in silence, fixing her penetrating stare directly upon him. For all the good it did, she might have smiled encouragingly instead, but he wasn't hurting her. He was merely embarrassing her with his scrutiny.
Just as she'd resigned herself to allowing Enahr his cheap thrill, Kathryn winced as her swollen ankle throbbed in the restraints, jostled as she slid out of the alien's grasp to tumble the few millimeters from his lap onto the floor. With a last, probing glance over her, he clambered to his feet, wiping his hands together with the satisfaction of a job well done. He smiled. "There we are; now I know how you're built. That wasn't so bad, now, was it, honey?"
She snarled at him, but didn't give him the satisfaction of a verbal response. He turned to leave, giving Chakotay a wink for good measure as he headed for the only doorway in the room. Once more, Voyager's first officer was torn between two emotions: lingering resentment over Kathryn's foolhardy stubbornness and utter relief that she was going to be left alone, at least for now. He, too, wondered at the nature of the "enhancements" Enahr mentioned, but the commander was less than impressed with the notion. For one, he thought Kathryn perfect just the way she was, much to his chagrin. She was beautiful, naturally so, and if these alien bastards couldn't see it then so much the better…maybe they'd keep away from her. He also feared the potentially negative side effects of whatever procedures they had planned and hoped the alien was only trying to embarrass her with idle threats.
Either way, Chakotay couldn't resist a parting shot. "Where are you going, Enahr?" he growled sarcastically. "Don't you want to inspect me now? See how I'm constructed?"
Enahr paused briefly, turning back to regard the human male lying, bound, on the floor. He grinned again. "No need. That's what scanners are for." He headed again for the exit, calling over his shoulder as he did so, "You two behave yourselves while I'm gone, now. I promise you don't want to see Enlin angry; it's not a pretty sight."
The door clanged shut behind him, and the two humans were left alone together in the stifling room.
Chakotay waited for Kathryn to roll over onto her side and face him so they could start planning some kind of escape. He waited for her to acknowledge his presence. She did neither, instead opting to remain facing in the opposite direction.
"Kathryn?" he tried after a moment of maddening silence, wondering if she was still shaken by the way Enahr had treated her, "Are you all–"
She interrupted him with a hiss of impatience, "Oh, for the love of – I'm fine, Commander," she clipped, apparently catching herself just in time.
He really could be ridiculous sometimes. And the proprietary concern for her well-being…was a mockery to her now. She felt certain that it must be his idea of a sick joke. As if he really cares one way or the other! Hell, if I die, he gets to be captain! Isn't that what he said once?
"He barely touched me," she managed more calmly. "And I really wish you wouldn't be so overprotective. I know we're…friends…but it's inappropriate, and there's no reason for it." Her tone brooked no further inquiry on the subject.
This time he actually saw stars in front of his eyes, and not just the familiar streaks of red.
Inappropriate?? No reason for it?? Chakotay had never been so glad to be restrained in his entire life. Otherwise, Voyager might really have been minus one red-headed captain – permanently. "Kathryn," he began warningly, but she cut him off once again with infuriating calm.
"It's 'Captain', Commander."
She had to be kidding him! Though he couldn't say he thought much of her sense of humor right now… "I resigned, remember?" he hissed, the disbelief strong in his hoarse voice.
"I remember nothing of the kind. And your attitude is both insubordinate and counterproductive to a timely–"
"Damn it, Kathryn!" He finally exploded, the magnified boom of his own voice startling him but not enough to stem the tirade that had been bottled up, steadily building for weeks. "Cut it out, will you? It's growing tiresome!"
"It's 'Captain', Commander," she reminded him icily, making him grit his teeth to the point of pain.
It was better this way, she decided: better for him, better for her, better for the ship as a whole. If she'd proven nothing else today, it was that she couldn't be trusted to handle a friendship with him…with anyone, probably.
She was in pain. Her heart had essentially been ripped out of her chest with the newly discovered reality of her feelings…the depth of those feelings. She loved him, and he did not return that love. She had to deal with that now, and the only way she knew to do so was to keep him more at arm's length. He'd be hurt by the loss of friendship, as would she, but in the end, it would be better.
True, perhaps she'd never have contemplated acting upon those feelings, not while maintaining a strong command structure was so vitally important for the crew, but…there was something so final about the knowledge that she couldn't have him even if she were able to break free of her strong personal bias – her fear – regarding involving herself romantically with someone serving under her…
It made the whole concept of that distance from those around her seem less important, somehow. It made her seriously reconsider the importance of that distance…it made the loneliness so much more potent. For the first time during their journey through the Delta Quadrant, Kathryn Janeway ruefully thought that, had she had the opportunity to do so, she might have been able to bring herself to take that final, frightening step…
But it was a moot point. There was no chance of that happening now. There was going to be no end to the heart-wrenching isolation of her position – not when he so clearly didn't feel the same way about her…
In that moment, she hated him for it. She hated him for making her see what she could have, if she were less afraid of taking risks where her heart was concerned. She hated him for dangling the possibilities in front of her and then yanking them out from under her…
She was interrupted in her reflections by his erratic respiration. His breath came in huffs now, deep and ragged. Concerned at the noisy irregularity, fearing hyperventilation or something more sinister, Kathryn finally shifted herself around to get a look at him. When she'd managed the heroic feat of rolling over on restrained arms and a sprained if not broken ankle, she knew she wouldn't have the strength to reverse her position…
His face was almost scarlet, initially adding to her concern until she recognized that she was actually staring into the face of an enraged Chakotay, and that that face was only a few centimeters from hers now. The sight of her closest friend so angry he could barely breathe correctly – and the sight of his magnificent broad chest bared to her forbidden gaze – had her heart skipping beats. She forgot all thoughts of professional detachment, gaping soundlessly for a long moment as he apparently struggled for control. "Chakotay–" she began, wanting to mollify his anger somewhat, but it only seemed to madden him all the more.
"Don't!" he bellowed, blowing back wisps of her long hair with the force of his breath.
She flinched at very little in life, but the intensity of that shout, combined with the glare of…well, rage…that he fixed on her, of all people, was difficult to endure with stoic detachment. She knew she paled visibly, but he didn't seem to care.
That alone spoke volumes about just how over the edge her first officer had been driven, and Kathryn shivered. What had she done? She wondered incredulously. What could she possibly have done to lead Chakotay to this level of losing control?
"Don't," he hissed, warning her with the intensity in his dark eyes. For once, she listened. "I've put up with you lately because I thought that if I just left you alone, gave you enough time to come to your senses, you'd get this…mood…out of your system. Obviously, that hasn't happened and it isn't going to."
Any other time, she'd have bristled at the words he spoke, at the clear ire in his tone. Now, however, she was at a loss. The look he gave her made the glare she'd received in the alleyway pale by comparison. She wondered somewhere in the back of her mind whether this was the look that, for quite a few Cardassians, had been the last image they'd ever seen in life.
Not even the sight of his captain in her underwear was going to distract him now. He refused to focus on anything but her face as he finally let everything he'd been itching to say to her these last few weeks tumble from his mouth in one, angry rush. "You say you're a Starfleet captain, and you want me to be your first officer? Well fine! Then it's the first officer's duty to tell his captain the truth. And the truth of the matter is, Captain, that you've been acting like an insufferably spoiled, temperamental bitch."
Her eyes did flare at that, at the sheer audacity of him, and she opened her mouth to respond in kind. This wasn't the captain and commander speaking, as she'd intended, but Chakotay talking to Kathryn, no matter that he used her title to mask it. It didn't matter: neither woman was going to take this lying down (metaphorically speaking of course) – not from him, of all people! "You unbelievably arrogant son of a–"
"That's right, Captain," he mocked angrily, cutting her off. "Go ahead – prove my point for me!" He shot her a look of pure disgust, ignoring the death glare, ignoring the promise of unpleasant things to come that her smoky eyes were delivering with a vengeance. "You can't handle the truth, can you? You can't handle someone disagreeing with you over any little thing anymore! No, you have to be in control, have to show everyone around you how all powerful the mighty Kathryn Janeway is, and to hell if anyone else has anything different to say!" On a roll and having no intention of stopping until he'd had his say, he continued to level his accusations, one after the other. "The crew has been working their tails off to make repairs to the ship, in some cases finishing well ahead of schedule, and all you can do is to tear people's heads off for not having formatted their reports properly. No one wants to come near you, and the crew has taken to drawing straws to see who's going to be the unfortunate soul who has to deliver bad news to you…because the last ten people who've told you something you didn't want to hear barely made it out of the ready room with their skins intact!"
"You know how I feel about exaggeration, Chakotay," Janeway finally cut in scathingly, fixing on one clear point at last, and using it as an entryway to dig into his tirade. "You're blowing this out of propor–"
"Believe me," he scoffed, "I wish I were! What the hell is wrong with you lately? You used to care about your people. You used to about their happiness, but nowadays it's like the rest of us are just one, big, inconvenient disappointment you have to put up with! Neelix worked hard to pull that little party together – mostly for you, I might add – and you couldn't even be bothered to show up!"
Janeway felt the sharp stab of remorse hit her at once. She hadn't known that Neelix had meant the little gathering in the mess hall for her, but in retrospect, she ought to have guessed: the Talaxian was forever striving to lift her spirits in some fashion. At the time, however, she'd been too overworked and miserable to bother attending, even though she'd definitely caught the note of disappointment in the chef's voice when she'd (rather testily) informed him that the ship's captain couldn't be expected to drop everything to attend an informal gathering on such short notice. Coloring slightly, Kathryn tried not to recall how she'd added a further rebuke over wasting precious ship's resources on such "frivolous endeavors". She ought to have known better than that. Of all people aboard Voyager, Neelix was the most conscious of the ship's stores and how to use them to maximum efficiency. Of course he'd have taken that into account…
She'd have to make it up to him and cringed inwardly at the thought of how many meals she'd be choking down in the mess hall with a smile plastered over her tortured lips in the weeks to come…
Despite the guilt, however, she was in no mood to yield to Chakotay in the slightest. Nothing excused his gross insubordination, and she certainly wasn't going to justify it by admitting he had a point.
"I was busy," was all he was afforded by way of a response.
Chakotay made a dismissive sound of utter disgust from somewhere in the back of his throat. "B'Elanna, Harry, and Tom have wanted to surprise you with that new design for nearly a year now. They put a lot of thought into that proposal; the least you could have done was to hear them out before laying into them for 'wasting valuable time' on 'non-essential activities'!" he countered angrily.
Here at least, Kathryn felt confident in her defense. "With the repairs to engineering not yet complete and the deflector array still not operating at peak efficiency, the use of my senior officers' spare time would have been better spent–"
"Since when has Starfleet put restrictions on what people can and cannot do in their spare time?" he parried directly. "I do know a thing or two about shuttles, you know, and that design was pretty ingenious. This may not have been the best time to bring it up, but they were looking for a morale booster – one of their duties as senior officers – and they were eager to impress you. We could use a shuttle that's more maneuverable out here, and you know it. But after the way you dressed the three of them down, I'll be surprised if they ever summon the courage to mention it again!"
Here, too, she felt justified in her actions. Annoyed, she restated her position. "We don't have the resources to spare, Chakotay! I wish to hell we did, but we don't. If they want to impress me, they can focus their efforts on making sure that repairs are completed before we run into another hostile species…which, in case you haven't noticed, it looks as though we already have!"
He'd had it. The commander had been saving his last weapon, intending to use it only if absolutely necessary, but as usual, she was forcing his hand. Fixing her with a look of unadulterated contempt, he demanded, "Do you know why Tom and Harry wanted to explore that nebula in the first place? Do you??" He didn't wait for her answer. "They went to get away from you, Captain," he spat. "They couldn't stand it anymore and they begged me to talk you into letting them off the ship so that you'd stop breathing down their necks for five minutes! And they weren't the only ones begging to be kept away from your foul temper; the reason I volunteered to accompany you on this mission wasn't because I was eager to spend any time in close quarters with you, either…it was because no one else wanted to go!"
That one hit her right between the eyes. Her chest felt strangely tight. It couldn't be true; ergo, he was lying. Yes, she'd been…testy…and yes, she'd been…a bit of a perfectionist of late, particularly with the bridge crew, as they were her closest contacts…
But that was a far cry from hating her so much that they were dying to get away from her! He was lying. Heavens only knew why, but he was lying intentionally to hurt her feelings.
What a smug, vindictive bastard he was turning out to be! How could she have been so blind to his negative qualities for so long? How could her instincts…and her heart…have betrayed her so very thoroughly?
"How dare you?" she railed quietly, her face white with suppressed fury. "How dare you?" she practically whispered through her dry, aching throat. "Whatever your personal feelings may or may not be for me, Commander, you have no right to lie about the crew just to spite m–"
"'Personal feelings'?" he repeated incredulously, incensed at her accusation. She'd really stoop to just about anything to avoid admitting she'd been wrong, wouldn't she? It amazed him, the level of her denial, even through his intense anger.
And it really, really sucked that Q had been right, at least about one thing: she was beautiful when she was angry. With her chest heaving emotion like that, and the right side of one small, beautifully rounded breast threatening to escape the confines of the sensible (though not quite standard) black bra she wore, Chakotay was having one hell of a time keeping his traitorous eyes above the line of her neck. Spirits alive, if that happened, they were so close that there was an excellent chance her skin would actually brush against him…
He forced himself to focus on his attraction, rather than waste time fighting it, and decided that she was using this against him, too…just as she had from the very beginning. She knew exactly what she was doing to him; she probably got off on torturing him like this!
"What the hell are you talking about, 'personal feelings'?" he reiterated, hissing at the woman he wanted so desperately to throttle…or kiss …but the latter of course wasn't an option. Hadn't she made that clear enough, on many occasions, with her persistent refusal to acknowledge his feelings for her? And now she was…using those feelings against him? Outright? That had to be what she'd meant by "personal feelings". What else could she have been referring to?
Something in him snapped. "Are you really that cold-hearted, Kathryn?" he asked genuinely, dropping the pretense of 'captain'. He missed her eyes widening in confusion. "Can you be such a callous bitch that you have to stoop to obvious emotional manipulation just because you can't win an argument?"
Kathryn no longer felt the throbbing sting of her ankle, or the insistent pull of the restraints pinching her skin. She no longer consciously acknowledged the additional, masculine heat of his skin almost warmly brushing hers…
There was a sound in her ears rather like the roaring of the ocean…and she'd had enough. "You know what, Chakotay?" she asked rhetorically, in a deathly quiet voice. She had no conscious idea of the fact that there were tears…actual tears…stinging her burning eyes. All she could see was the face of the man in front of her – the man who'd stolen her heart and effectively crushed it within his indifferent palm as though it was nothing more than space dust to him. "On second thought, you were right," she whispered, glaring at him with an almost hatred-like intensity gripping her soul. "Making you my first officer was a mistake. I accept your resignation."
Oh did she? And were those tears, for added effect? Amazing!
"Why?" he spat brutally, crushed by the obvious disdain he read in her now so cold-seeming eyes. "Because I was honest? Because I won't let you manipulate me anymore?"
How could he have been so wrong about her? Here he was, feeling like a complete ass for what had happened with Riley…for disobeying Kathryn's orders while she lay unconscious in sickbay…and for what? For this? For someone so cruel as to mock his feelings and use them to gain the upper hand in an argument?
To hell with that! Why did every woman he ever fell for have to turn out to be such a deceitful bitch?
And if she didn't stop heaving like that, practically right below his nose, she was going to have a nice distraction of her own digging into that adorably rounded little belly of hers in a moment… He decided she'd deserve it, too.
"Manipulation?" she laughed almost insanely, interrupting his scattered and bitter thoughts. In that one instant, she wished she had a hand free because she would have slapped him with it. "Me? You are joking, aren't you? Isn't that your specialty, Chakotay?"
Spirits she was infuriating! "What the hell does that mean? You're not making any sense!" he roared, completely oblivious to the fact that he was, once more, yelling at her. "My specialty? What are you talking about??"
She scoffed, ignoring the single tear that escaped to trickle sideways across her cheekbone and slosh silently onto the grating of the floor. Leaning back slightly, she averted her eyes away from him and muttered just loudly enough for him to catch: "Oh, I don't know…why don't you tell me another ancient legend?" She huffed again, another mirthless chuckle. "Who knows? Maybe I'd even be stupid enough to fall for you again."
Everything froze for him in that instant. His heart stopped beating, halting the pounding of blood in his ears.
Had she…had she just said…
Had he heard what he thought he just heard?
There was no mistaking it; he had. His head felt funny. Somehow, he didn't think it was because of the stun this time. His heart wasn't working properly. Now it beat too fast, too loudly inside his chest. His neck was overly warm and his brain was fuzzy. His insides thrilled. His stomach was doing little flops of elation…his spirit soared.
His anger, all of the pent-up, frustrated, insanely torturous stress of working alongside the woman he loved more than life itself and yet couldn't touch…
She'd fallen for him. She'd…
She loved him!
Kathryn cringed at the silence, realizing what she'd said. Oh, wonderful, she thought bitterly. Just what he needed: more ammunition to use against me! She tensed, waiting for the explosion, the outrage at her audacity, or worse, the laughter at her naïve stupidity.
It didn't come. All she heard in the moments following her shameful admission were the soft words he practically crooned beside her.
"Say it again."
Her heart sank. "Why? So you can mock me for it?" She sighed, still refusing to look at him. It hurt too much to look at him now. "Go to hell. You heard me. I'm not repeating myself."
"Say it again, Kathryn." This time, it wasn't a request. She caught the urgency in his voice and felt faintly sick at his eagerness to confirm her humiliation.
"Fine." She felt strangely broken and could no longer find it within herself to care what he thought or whether or not he respected her anymore. What did it matter? Best to get this over with – let him laugh, if he wants to. "For reasons I'll never understand, I was foolish enough to fall for you." She squeezed her eyes shut, an effort to stem the traitorous flow of tears. "Are you happy no–"
She got no further. In a blinding rush of motion, Chakotay somehow managed to rock himself forward and fall against her, knocking her over onto her back and half pinning her to the harsh metal floor. Breathless, in a daze of confusion, she managed a half-cry of anger before his lips came down hard on hers…
And then he was kissing her senseless. Kathryn registered the brief and lingering rational notion that she'd kick his ass later for his presumption, before she had no more thought for anything but the heavenly sensation of his mouth on hers.