"Doctor to Commander Chakotay?"
He looks over at me. We've been caught, the smile creases of his eyes tell me. We're late. Truthfully, we haven't looked at the clock all morning.
When I used to look at him – really look at him, I was imagining what lay under his uniform, catching small glimpses here and there during staff meetings and briefings. I covertly monitored his form when he stood in front of me on the bridge. I wished that I had X-ray vision. But now, now that I have seen and felt what lies beneath, I look at him differently. Now, I have catalogued every angle, every jutting bone, every bulging muscle. I have felt him in my inmost parts, pressing against my womb – tugging and hinting at a promise. And I want that promise. I want all of it.
However, in spite of our lovemaking, our ecstasy, our declarations, and our promises, our relationship - much like my body- has not been fixed.
He winks at me, "Chakotay here. Sorry we're late, Doctor. We're on our way."
"Chakotay to Transporter Room 1"
"Transporter Room 1. How Can I help you, Commander?"
"Two to transport from the Captain's quarters to Sickbay."
The Doctor beams as he sees me standing on my own, "I see you're up and about, Captain! This is good news."
I look up at Chakotay and he has a silly grin on his face, "Yes. But I still can't walk on my own. But I am regaining some movement in my arms."
"Not to worry, Captain. You're already recovering at a remarkable rate. Need I remind you that you were only released from Sickbay yesterday morning? Aside from a magic wand and enchanted incantation – I don't know what else we can do. Have you been doing the exercises that I wrote out for you?"
I blushed deep crimson, "Well, not exactly."
He frowns and pulls out his tricorder, "Well, I can see from your elevated endorphin and endocrine levels that you haven't been simply reclining on the couch… In any case, all movement is good – especially the more integrated ones" he winks approvingly. "However, I want to stress that you not overdo it. While you may think that pushing yourself will get the job done faster, the reality is that the nerves and the muscles need time to rest, regenerate, and build new pathways".
I can tell that we're blushing like two teenagers who've just been caught in the act by their parents. But, the Doctor continues nonchalantly, "today I would like to fit you for a walking cane so that you can start moving about independently and we need to do exercises targeted at your arms".
Moving to the table behind him he picks up a small red ball, "this is what early Earth physiotherapists referred to as a "stress ball". Hold out your hand as much as your can."
I weakly move my arm. Though the Doctor thinks that I'm upset that I am not immediately back to my normal energetic self, the truth is that for now I am content to let this process play out. This is a new side of my personality that I am just beginning to explore. In the five years since we've been stranded in the Delta Quadrant, I've never been content to simply be. I almost never take shore leave – and when I do I bring my work. Right now, I can't fully move my arms or my legs, and I'm too tired to look over padds and padds of data. For now, I am comfortable in letting this process play out. I almost enjoy the tedious route of retraining my non-complaint body. It presents a new set of challenges that I am eager to overcome. But, more than that, I secretly revel in letting Chakotay take care of me. I am relishing this new faucet of our relationship that I would have not allowed had I never fallen ill.
I hold out my hand, encouraged by the steady movement that my arm is gaining with every attempt. I remain focused on the ball, attempting to grab it from the Doctor's grasp for the better part of an hour. By the end of that hour, I am able to extend my hand and weakly curl my fingers. Progress.
Our next hour is focused on fitting me for a cane. A cane. Initially, I feel like an old man, but once I realize the independent mobility that it's giving me I stop underestimating it.
I hobble about on the cane. Chakotay's still smiling at me. He hasn't stop smiling. He doesn't say anything during my time in therapy with the Doctor, but his presence is enough. He knows that I am not a child and I do not need to be cooed or coddled, so he's content to let me fall and bruise myself, fail and then get back up and I love him all the more for it.