Chakotay ran a tired hand through his hair as he stepped through the front door at the end of his first day of work after three months paternity leave and hastily threw his suitcase into the office, ready for a quiet night in with his family. As he turned towards the kitchen he met Seven coming to meet him with Max balanced expertly on her hip and a slightly victorious smile on her lips. "How was your day?" she asked.
"A little stressful but okay." He replied as he studied her face. "What's up? You look pleased about something."
"Your observation is accurate. I believe the twins' training is complete."
He looked at her in disbelief. "They didn't have any accidents at all?"
"None." She replied, her smile widening in relief as it hadn't exactly been the easier or most pleasant of parenting duties.
"That's great!" he beamed. "Where are they?" At that moment two bundles of twenty two month energy bounded into him in welcome and he immediately bent down to hug them properly. "Papa's so proud of you! You're potty trained now. That'll make things easier for Mama while I'm at work won't it?" he praised as they babbled away to him, completely unconcerned about the furore they'd caused over the past three weeks of attempts at training them.
He looked up at a frowning Seven as Aylen attempted to undo his tie for him. "Do you have to use that term? It's so infantile." She muttered as she shifted Max onto her shoulder.
"What do you expect them to say, bathroom? They're not even two yet." He answered with raised eyebrows.
"When you find the word "potty" in the dictionary I'll allow them to use it but until then…"
"It's just baby talk, they'll grow out of it…" he argued.
An oblivious Michael approached his mother and tugged on her skirt. "Mama, batwoom." He asked with admirable politeness but in the process completely undermining his father's argument.
Seven gave Max to Chakotay and guided Michael away but not before tossing a triumphant look in her husband's direction who retorted laughingly, "He's either a prodigy or a suck up you know!" Seven laughed but the sound of the phone interrupted their playful banter. "I'll get it!" he called through to Seven and went to answer it.
When Seven returned she found Chakotay sitting silently in the kitchen, any trace of his former cheerfulness obliterated. "What's wrong?" she asked worriedly, concerned by the sudden change.
He lifted his eyes listlessly to hers. "Matt Whitehorse has died."
It took a few seconds for the full impact of this statement to hit Seven. "Your Maquis friend who was at our wedding? He was only…I didn't know he was ill…"
"Oh he wasn't, just dropped dead this morning while out attending to his animals. Karen went out to look for him when he didn't come in for breakfast."
Seven swallowed hard at the brutal reality of it all and went to him, stroking his face, knowing that Matt hadn't only been a Maquis colleague but a childhood friend also. "When's the funeral?" she murmured quietly.
"Thursday, up by his house in Michigan."
She moved away from him a little as her brain began to plan. "I'll inform Aunt Irene to see if she can watch the children and we'll go." He looked ready to argue but she silenced him with a gentle peck. "You'll be lonely enough, allow me to accompany you." She felt his eyes scan her for a moment but then he pulled her close, murmured something she couldn't hear and left to change a crying Max without another word. Seven watched his departing back before uttering a shaky sigh of her own and turning back to her hungry toddlers.
Seven pulled her flimsy grey shawl over her black wrap dress and shifted closer to Chakotay in the taxi that was slowly heading to the small farm just over the horizon, glancing at him anxiously as she did so. His face looked tight and strained, his eyes dull and far away. She longed to break the heavy silence that had existed between them since they'd left the house but it was as if her voice had fallen away, adequate words just wouldn't form. As if he'd seen her gaze he moved back with a sudden bitter laugh, "You know he was the most effective Maquis we had and he was the only one who completely accepted what I did on Voyager, the others…"
Seven touched his arm, the Maquis, like the Borg, wasn't something they made a habit of talking about but she knew that many of the former Maquis had not welcomed his return, had seen his role as a Federation officer as a betrayal. She felt protective anger bubble within her as she knew that Chakotay had abandoned fewer, if any, of his values than any of his detractors. "I was not fortunate enough to know him well but he was a reasonable and far sighted man." She said softly.
He smiled briefly. "He liked you too. Said he always knew I had a thing for blondes, he saved me in a bar fight over one particular girl when I was a drunk seventeen year old, it wasn't the last time he saved my life either."
Seven leaned into his shoulder. "Then this blonde owes him a great debt." She whispered, earning an affectionate kiss on the forehead from Chakotay.
The service was conducted outside in the full traditions of Chakotay's people. She forgot the frowning stares of the disapproving strangers as the melodic tones of Chakotay's native tongue, which she was actually linguistically fluent in but not culturally confident enough to use in this situation, washed over her. She found herself transfixed by the ritual of it all and the comforting affect it seemed to have on her husband. His spiritual grounding, which unlike many humanoids had never obscured but clarified his judgement, had always intrigued her as something she could never completely understand, but now she allowed herself a level of admiration and decided then and there that she would never block their children from following their father in that respect. Suddenly Chakotay's voice brought her out of her contemplation. "He was only fifty six…"
The rest of the sentence, "and I'm fifty one", thankfully went unsaid but Seven knew it had gone though his head as it had unhappily through hers and she squeezed his hand more to reassure himself than anything else. "It was a fulfilled life though." She murmured. He considered this for a moment and nodded as they made their way back to the taxi.
That night Seven descended the stairs and entered the living room to see him sitting over a large photographic pad and her recurring anxiety about his state of mind returned to her. "Are you coming to bed my love?"
He turned, caught her worried face and smiled gently. "I'm just looking over old photos sweetheart." Intrigued Seven bent over and saw one of Chakotay and Matt as young boys holding some sort of sporting trophy aloft. He smiled at her expression. "Don't be impressed, it was only a consolation sports day prize at elementary school."
Seven laughed softly as she peered at another photograph, recognising Chakotay's mother, Aylen's namesake, as a girl but not the fair headed woman beside her. "Who's that?" she asked curiously, "She doesn't appear to be Native American."
"My grandmother? She wasn't, her name was Dawn and she was quite the character! I'm not the first in my family to make an unconventional marriage…"
Seven hit him lightly on the arm. "Oh "unconventional" am I?" she teased, kissing him as she did so but after a few minutes the phone interrupted them.
"Who would phone at eleven at night?" Chakotay asked as Seven went to answer it. The screen immediately showed a stressed and upset looking Doctor.
"What's wrong Doctor?" asked Seven, fearful for Icheb far away on Deep Space Nine.
He gulped hard before answering. "You both need to come to Starfleet Medical now. It's the Admiral, she's been a victim of mind control…"
A/n: I hope this chapter wasn't too boring until the cliff-hanger. Please review!
I'm thinking of setting up a C/7 community since there doesn't seem to be one, what do you think good idea or bad idea?