Klingon's don't cry. That's a well-established fact. But for some reason, B'Elanna's eyes are teary as she looks on at Kathryn and Chakotay exchange their vows. Such short notice for two such important people would fluster the hell out of anyone else. But, the calm Vulcan performs as if he were executing a route weapons scan.
"Kathryn, Chakotay – am I correct in assuming that you would like a traditional Earth ceremony?"
"Yes," they say in synchrony.
"Very well. Please join hands."
As they exchange vows, B'Elanna's eyes catch Tom's from across the small distance. She smiles and remembers her own wedding day. Tom has been good for her. He calms her – warms her. His goofy childish behavior brings levity to her troubles. Chakotay does that for Kathryn.
When B'Elanna first came on board, she couldn't stand being within 15 feet of 'Janeway', as she sneeringly referred to her. But over the years, she's realized how similar they both are. Sometimes, B'Elanna can't believe how far they've come and now she can't imagine her life without Kathryn Janeway.
She refocuses herself and brings her attention back to the couple. She's always noticed Chakotay – you'd have to be dead not to. She's even a little embarrassed that she once had a schoolgirl crush on him. But Kathryn – she can see why Chakotay was speechless not a few moments ago. B'Elanna never thought of the Captain as stunning; attractive yes, but not a Risan Pleasure Dancer. But tonight the Captain is breathtaking. Her petite figure is flattered in the cream dress. Her hair is down and the colours in the strands are illuminated by the sunset. Her delicate legs are elongated in a pair of cream patent leather heels, her makeup is typically flawless, add to all of that: she is even glowing.
The spell is broken as the couple pulls apart. Tom – true to his nature begins clapping and whistling. He shakes Chakotay's hand and gives Kathryn a bear hug.
/
"Kathryn," B'Elanna, touches my shoulder, "congratulations" she smiles. She's happy for us.
"So, what's next? Drinks at Sandrine's?"
Chakotay's up to something – I see it in his eyes. He smiles, "No, Tom. I'm afraid that this wedding is going to be a quick affair, Ka-"
Tom holds up his hands in knowing surrender, "Say no more, Big Guy- I remember my own wedding day".
There's no point in trying to deny it so Chakotay just smiles as he grabs my hand and begins to head towards the door. But Tom has one last request:
"Unh, unh, unh! Stop right there!"
We roll our eyes. What now Tom?!
"Computer, one holo-camera on a tripod"
"Tom?" I'm getting a little exasperated at this point. I'm hungry – and not for dinner.
"Wedding pictures, Kathryn!" I'd totally forgotten. Leave it to Tom to think of the small details. He builds shuttles, after all.
"Alright, everyone around Kathryn and Chakotay!"
Chakotay puts his arm around my waist. Tuvok stands next to me; Tom and B'Elanna stand next to Chakotay.
"Say Cheese" I smile at Tom's corny behavior. The camera light flashes and a digital memory of the day that I married my best friend is preserved forever.
"Thanks, Tom".
"No problem" he grabs B'Elanna's hand and we all head towards the door.
"Thank you, everyone," and I am thankful. "Please, keep to yourselves until tomorrow. We'll tell this to the crew then. And, Neelix will likely want to throw a party".
"Leave it to Neelix to throw a party," B'Elanna understands as she pulls Tom down the corridor, "Don't worry, Captain – your secret's safe!"
"Goodnight, Captain, Commander. And, congratulations once again."
I smile, "Thank you, Tuvok." And at once, we're alone. Did we really just get married?
I turn back to my husband. My husband. I've never had a husband. Now I have a husband. Now, I'm a wife.
"So," I seductively lower my voice an octave.
"So close your eyes."
My eyebrow perks. What's he up to?
"And no peeking. Go on then!"
A crooked grin tugs at my lips as I tentatively close my eyes. I'm tempted to cheat and keep them slightly open. But, he'll know. So, I comply. But, I'm itching to know he's up to. I hear him touch the control panel on the wall outside the holodeck.
"Are they closed?"
"Yes" I smile.
He takes my hand, lacing his fingers with mine, and leads me through the same holodeck doors that we just came through.
I feel sand underneath my feet. At least I think it is judging by the way that my footing feels uneven. But then I smell the salty air and I feel the breeze rustle my hair. I've been here before. I spent a lot of time here some months ago.
"Open," he whispers in my ear. His breath tickles.
A house sits in front of me. It's made of shingles of wood that have turned grey in the constant barrage of the brackish air. Flowering plants are planted in the front yard. I look more closely, peace roses. I smile. No detail or sentiment goes unnoticed by him. The front door is red and it's open – beckoning us.
"Come on," he tugs at my hand leading me into the house. The other rooms are superfluous as he leads me to the one we both want to go to the most. The windows are open, letting in the simulated breeze. The details of the house fade away as we reach the top of short flight of stairs. He opens another door and I walk in. It's just like it was in my dreams. The walls are white, matching the colour of the bedspread draped over a tall oak bed frame. He really has been here.
I feel his breath on my neck and he bows his head and starts to untie the bow in the back of my dress. I feel a slackening in the waist and then his hands are at the zipper – revealing my skin inch by inch. My universe narrows and all I can feel are his warm hands. They move fluidly from my waist to my arms and then slowly up to my shoulders. The dress is already beginning to sag. He pushes it off the rest of the way and it pools in a creamy heap at my feet. I know what a tantalizing picture I am presenting to him: white lingerie and heels. The cool breeze blows through the open French doors and slightly chills my skin. But I'm warm, flush against his solid body. I feel him. I turn in his arms and I look into his obsidian eyes, "Kathryn," his whispers reverently, "you take my breath away".
It's by no means our first time. It's what I always knew would happen subconsciously from the first time that we met – we can't keep our hands off each other. On the bridge we work. On the bridge we're colleagues – Captain and First officer and the ship's business and crew's safety take priority. But, I'd be lying if I said that our time on the bridge wasn't foreplay. Those 9 hours only heighten our need for one another. But, all bets are off when the doors to our quarters close at night. Tonight our hunger is no different.
Tonight our appetite is once again stimulated – this is our first time as a married couple. I slide my arms up his chest, over the small buttons that close his white shirt. I unbutton them one by one and with precision. I'm trying again to draw the moment. Tonight though, unlike so many other times, I'm making him wait. I want to explore him. I want to taste him. I think he wants to do the same. I let the shirt fall and collect on the floor while I move to the fastener on his pants. He steps out of them as they fall to the wooden beams. He moves to cradle my face. He kisses me for the second time that evening. Lips open, tongues duel. We taste each other. The taste is wonderfully erotic and familiar. I feel his hands at the fastener of the bra and the garment falls away. One for one – I tug at his boxers and they join his trousers and socks. Slowly he backs me towards the bed. My thigh hits the back and I overbalance, falling onto the soft mattress and I pull him with me. He's a big man in every way – heavily muscled, big strong hands, big everything… and I am a small woman. He's always afraid he's going to crush me, but I like to feel his weight on me. His knee insinuates between my thighs, spreading my legs. He breaks the kiss, reaches down, and pulls away my flimsy underwear. His lips follow his hands and we begin to taste, to love.
I've gotten used to him since we first became lovers. But still, it's hard for me not to come almost immediately when he first enters me. I know he struggles too. But, like I said, tonight we're trying.
I trace lazy patterns on his chest afterwards as I drape myself over him like a cat. We're both still breathless. We're overcome. Soon, sleep overtakes us.