He looks down and a large silly grin spreads across his face as he sees my legs move. He taps his combadge, "Chakotay to Doctor"
"How is the Captain, Commander?"
"Good news, doctor, her legs have started to move!"
"That's wonderful, Commander. I've been doing some additional reading of the information that the Tevians gave us on the virus and combined with my own scans of the Captain, I don't expect her recovery to take too long. If she keeps up this pace, she'll have adequate use of her limbs in two weeks time! Oh and Commander, don't forget that I have an appointment with the Captain tomorrow morning at 10:00 hours! Doctor out."
"Well?" he grins.
"Well, you never finished telling me about 'and'."
"Walk over to the couch with me and we'll talk about 'and'. And, I have a few questions of my own. But before all of that, I'm feeding you lunch."
I roll my eyes, "I'm not hungry".
"You're never hungry, Kathryn. That's why you have me to badger you".
Coming back to the couch, he carries a cheese sandwich cut into bite sizes pieces. He knows by the look on my face; I am ready to negotiate.
He smiles, "I'll answer your questions if and only if you eat half of this sandwich. That's my final offer."
I eat the sandwich as quickly as he serves it. Soon, though, I reach my limit, "That's half, Chakotay". His hands go up in surrender and he begins to eat the rest himself.
He can't resist, "who is she Kathryn?"
"What comes after 'and'? Wait, what?"
"She. Who is she? Who looks just like me?"
"I'm sorry, Chakotay but I don't know what you're –". I feel the colour drain from my face. I feel cold. My heart rate speeds up and it feels uncomfortable against my chest. Did I say something? Please no. No. This isn't the way I want to tell him. This isn't how he should find out.
"What comes after 'and'?"
His features slacken and he becomes serious, "I think you know what comes after 'and'. I think you've known for a long time. I've never hidden it. Who is she?"
In that moment I feel so ashamed. This patient, wonderful man is so vulnerable with me. To everyone else he is a mighty force to be reckoned with – a fierce and angry warrior. For five years, he has stood by me, never wavering – always supportive, always showing me that he loves me. He caught me every time I fell and I'd never told him. But yet, in my dreams, I have lived a whole life with him.
Suddenly, I feel foolish and avert my eyes from his. But he deserves to know. He needs to know as much as I need to tell him.
"She's us. She's ours," I whisper softly. Tears fall and I make no effort to stop them. "And she's so beautiful."
His tears fall as well. He moves close to me and gathers me in his arms, cradling my limp form with tender reverence. He buries his nose in my hair and his tears christen me, ushering me into a new life. I want to hold him. I want to wipe his tears like he does mine, but my arms are still too weak. But I feel. I feel him beneath me. He's solid. He's warm.
My face is buried in the hollow of his neck. His scent surrounds me – comforts me. It's seems like forever as he holds me in the quiet, punctuated only by our sniffles and muffled sobs. We cry for all the time that has been lost. We cry for all the times we needed to be close, but could not be. We cry for an uncertain future. We cry because we are free. We cry because we love.
Love.
"I love you," I whisper. "I love you in my dreams. All these years I couldn't let myself love you here - I loved you there. Chakotay, I fantasize about you. I imagine the way we make love: the words you whisper, the way your skin feels against mine. I imagine you so many times and in so many ways. There, we live in a house together – it's by the ocean. We listen to the crashing waves lull us to sleep at night. The sea breeze blows through the open doors in our bedroom and cools our damp skin after hours of lovemaking. We talk and we laugh. I tickle you, and once you've had enough you pin me under your body and kiss me until we're both breathless."
When I say it out loud, I feel embarrassed. But, I feel cleansed. He doesn't say anything, so I tell him about her, "and one night I went to sleep and there she was, Chakotay". I giggle at the memory and a smile stays plastered to my face, "she's so-"
"Small. But she's perfect. She's cradled to your breast. She looks just like me – dark hair and brown, nearly black eyes." He's seen her too.
He positions himself so that he's looking right at me. He notices the look of shock on my face, "Yes, I've seen her too".
With one hand he delicately supports my neck, and with the other he cradles my jaw, "and the woman I love. And the woman I can't live without. And the woman I'm going to marry. And the woman whose name is going to be the first thing I say when I wake in the morning and the last thing I say as I go to sleep at night. And the woman who will bear my child. And the woman whose name will be the last word I ever speak when departing from this life. That's what came after 'and'."
I smile amid the tears as he kisses me. His lips are as soft and plaint beneath mine - just as I imagined them to be. He runs his tongue across my lower lip and I open my mouth to him. I brush my tongue across his and then go a little further and swirl it over his two front teeth. He tastes sweet. He tastes like nothing I've ever experienced and I can't get enough. I'll sound like a terrible cliché if I say that the kiss is more than everything that my dreams are made of, and I have a vivid imagination.
For now a kiss is enough. Our kiss seals our promises. Our kiss is the start of our new life.