Uncertainty. Uncertainty is what I have trained myself to get used to over the past five years. In point of fact, uncertainty is the focal point of our journey. But in the past week, that uncertainty has become a little more certain.
"I need to get back to work. It's been 9 days since I woke up. I can move my hands and I can get around well enough without my cane. I can't run a marathon, but I can manage."
"Captain," he sighs, "it's still too soon. 9 days is nothing! I know you feel better. I know you feel like things are getting easier – and they are. But, I need you to give yourself more time".
I'm frustrated. I feel fine! I know that a few days ago I was content to let this process play out. But, now I am itching to get back into a routine.
"Doctor," Chakotay speaks up, "I can personally attest to how well she's doing. What about a few hours on the Bridge each day? She wouldn't do a full shift, but at least a few hours".
This poor holographic doctor! Most days I silently pity his subroutines having to put up with me. He's more patient than any other physician has been – and that's not saying much. I knew puppy dog eyes and sad pitiful faces wouldn't work, but I'd give it my best shot.
"Very well. There's not much I can do to stop you, I suppose. But first, Captain, do you know why you contracted this virus?" In his tone of voice, I feel a melancholy and pedagogical speech coming.
I haven't a clue. Cosmic payback?
"It was you and Commanders Chakotay and Tuvok who beamed down to the Tevian 8 for the trade negotiations. Though I can't speak for Vulcan physiology, you and the Commander are both human. Commander Chakotay did not come down with the virus. Only you." He draws in a histrionic breath and continues, "Captain, more than anyone on this ship, you push yourself. You punish yourself. You deny yourself rest and nutrition. In essence it was your tendencies as a chronic workaholic that led you to have poor immunity and allowed you to become vulnerable to the virus. I'm not going to stop you from going back to work, but I want to caution you about this type of behavior in the future. You might not always be this lucky."
He's right. I hate to concede, but he's right. I look up at Chakotay, "I'll look after her doctor. We won't overdo it".
Before the doors to my cabin close, his golden hands are around my waist, pulling me into him. He finds that ticklish spot just above my buttock and lightly brushes his fingers over it, making me giggle. I mock frown at him, "I thought you promised the Doctor we wouldn't overdo it?"
He leans down, brushes my hair away from my neck and starts feathering open-mouthed kisses all the way to my clavicle making me moan in desire. I don't know how he does it, but with one touch he has me under a spell.
"I seem to recall that he was talking about work," he draws away stepping back from me, smirking, "but you're right…"
"Oh no!" I grab his shirt and haul him back over the short distance, "you're not getting away that easily, Mister."
I smile and he closes the distance between us. Suddenly the clothing on our bodies becomes a barrier. This is the first time that we'll make love with my hands fully able to touch him. It's tiring, but I don't care. I want to feel him. I want to touch the length of him. I'm jealous. He's already touched me. He's touched all of me. He's tasted every inch of my skin and now it's my turn. I'm like a kid on Christmas morning, tearing the wrapping off of my new toy. But unlike a new toy, this one will never lose its novelty. First his shirt, his pants, then his boxers – one by one they all come off. I stop, extending the moment. All of our previous times have been feverish. Neither of us could wait to crawl inside each other. This time, though, we need to slow down. It's hard, though. We want one another. Both of us want to feel the other and the pleasure that we give to each other. But this time, I want to try.
He smiles, "are we finally trying for the slow and romantic?"
"Too much for your self control?" I laugh.
It is too much. He's panting almost. His erection is painful.
My hand reaches down between us and I touch him. I'm grateful for my recovered mobility as a wrap around him, "Kathryn don't – I won't last". I pity him. He's trying so hard.
I smile again and bring my mouth to his, "to hell with slow and gentle". That was all the encouragement he needed. He was feverish again. I'd never been with such a lover. In fact, I'd only ever been with Justin and Mark. Justin was young and inexperienced. We'd shared intensity - but it was the kind borne of youth and hormones. With Mark, nothing was passionate. He was old school: two minutes in the dark, then both parties roll over, have a good cry, and fall asleep. Chakotay is a new experience and one that is a little different every time. He pulls me the few paces to the bed. My heart rate speeds more and more. We've done this before, but it's still new. I have a feeling that it'll always be that way. He starts to kiss all the way down my body and even though I love it when he does that – I don't need more preparation, "Chakotay," I gasp, "Just do it." Truthfully, I'm just as impatient as he is. I smirk and sigh inwardly; will we ever make it to slow and romantic?