Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Rating: G
"Captain," Chakotay called as he jogged up to her just outside out sickbay.
He had been on his way to sickbay to check on Tuvok and Gerron, but when he saw Kathryn emerge he decided she might as well get him up to speed. She didn't react visibly though, and it took him a few seconds to catch up with her and fall into step beside her.
"How are Tuvok and Garron?"
"Fabulous," she replied snarkily, walking at a brisk pace.
"Captain?" Chakotay asked, irritated by her obvious mood.
"They'll be fine," she sighed, but kept on walking.
Chakotay scrutinized the woman beside him. Brisk pace, tense muscles, teeth gnashing and her eyes straight ahead without flinching. She was mad, that much was apparent. What he didn't know was why.
"What's wrong, Captain?"
"Nothing," she huffed, "Everything's just peachy."
"Don't patronize me," he growled quietly, not wanting to alert passing crewmen. "You're upset. Care to tell me what this is about?"
"Fine," she exclaimed, pulling him roughly into a weapons locker, refusing to discuss this out in the corridor. "Are you frustrated as well?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Ignoring protocol, going against regulations - in your own words, Dalby did it because he's so frustrated," Kathryn said in a deadly serious and quiet voice, "So tell me, are you so frustrated that you need to go around punching people now?" Understanding finally dawned on him.
"Look Captain, I'm sorry I had to do it." He tried to calm her by touching her elbow, but she jerked away wordlessly, "but it worked, didn't it?"
She huffed without saying anything and rolled her eyes at him.
"Are you angry because I handled Dalby when Tuvok couldn't?"
"On the contrary, I don't object to you helping out Tuvok," she muttered, "but I do object to the First Officer of my ship making a ridiculous show of his own lack of restraint by going around punching crewmembers."
"Oh, I have tremendous restraint, Captain," he hissed, acutely aware of their closeness and her heaving chest, his jaw clenching, his eyes boring into hers, "You know as well as I do that it was the only way to get Dalby and the others into line."
She refused to look at him, her shoulders squared, arms crossed in front of her, her chin up high, her eyes staring a hole into the wall behind him.
"Well Captain, I'm sorry we aren't your perfect Starfleet officers all the time." Chakotay snarled at her.
"I don't expect you…" Kathryn suddenly stopped, not knowing what it was she expected either.
Chakotay had handled the situation when Tuvok with his rigorous Starfleet protocols had failed, hadn't he? Why was she so upset then? Kathryn dared a look at Chakotay and his glare was so hard and challenging, any words she might have said caught in her throat. Her sharp intake of breath wasn't lost on Chakotay.
"Captain, we both know this isn't about me or Dalby." He tried taking her elbow again and this time Kathryn didn't flinch, "So what are you so angry about?"
She wanted to turn away, but in the small confines of the weapons locker she couldn't really escape his questioning gaze. Seriously, why did this have to be the first convenient door anyway?
"I don't know," she finally exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air between them. When Chakotay didn't say anything but apparently waited for her to continue, she added, "How many of them hate me, huh?"
"They don't hate you." Chakotay shook his head and furrowed his brows.
"Oh please," she snickered, "don't spare my feelings. I'm sure I can handle it."
"Can you really?" She gave him a sharp look. "With all due respect," Chakotay burst out, "not everything is about you. Some of them are just frustrated and lash out any way they can. Surely, you can understand that."
Kathryn puffed out a short breath, blowing a few stray hairs out of her face, making Chakotay acutely aware of her current state. He looked her up and down and suddenly realized that she hadn't even taken a shower yet. Her hair was still in disarray and clinging to her sweaty skin a various places and he realized that she must have gone straight to sickbay when she had learned that her heat stunt had almost killed two of her crewmembers.
He suddenly found their closeness terribly distracting and even though he could see her lips moving, he could only nod and stare as her chest heaved and her neck straightened when she lifted her eyes to his. Somewhere in the recess of his mind, he registered Kathryn saying something about not liking to depend on anyone and not being in control and he really wanted to ask if that isn't why she even has a First Officer. He really wanted to, but he found his mouth gone dry and his tongue weirdly heavy when his nostrils were filled with her scent that just seemed to linger in the room. Chakotay only snapped out of it when Kathryn finally raised her voice and slapped his shoulder.
"Are you even listening, Commander?" The irritation was clearly written on her face.
"Uh, sorry, Captain," he stuttered, "do you mind if we discuss this later? Over dinner maybe?" He tugged his earlobe in embarrassment.
At his gesture, Kathryn suddenly realized that he smelled all fresh and nice and that she was still all sweaty and gross. She looked herself up and down and ran a hand through her hair, getting her fingers tangled in the messy strands. She tugged them free and wiped the sweat from her upper lip with the back of her hand. She suddenly felt epicly foolish. Here she was reading him the riot act, when she was probably reeking and he tried to tell her politely to go and take a shower.
"Of course, Commander," she relented as she ducked her head and quickly slipped out through the door, needing to get away from him and breathe.
She had taken a few steps from the weapons locker when he stuck his head out after her and called, "You bring the wine."
She heard him chuckle and rewarded him with a smile and an eyeroll over her shoulder, and an extra sway of her hips without stopping, marvelling at how easily he could dispel a tense situation. She would take a long soak in her tub and they could discuss this over a lengthy and delicious dinner and coffee on Chakotay's rations.
This story concludes season 01. I do not know when I'll start posting season 02 stories. I haven't quite decided how to go about it, since internal chronology is so different to airing chronology.
I'll most likely write in order of production, as this is most coherent with startdates.
That means the next story will be Projections and I haven't even started on that one and I have a few other WIP that I need to be working on.
But, bear with me and be patient. Season 02 will come eventually. ;)
And remember constructive criticism is always welcome.
