Getting warmer. Maybe one more chapter I'm thinking.
"This is better than television," said Tom, after Chakotay had finished telling him and B'Elanna about what had transpired at Lake George.
B'Elanna elbowed him in the ribs.
"What?" said Tom indignantly.
Chakotay wasn't sure how much he wanted to be around people right now, but he did promise to be at the Paris' for Christmas Dinner. He should have expected that they'd grill him about the Lake the minute he walked through the door. To their credit, they waited until after dinner.
"Thanks Tom," said Chakotay. "Your sensitivity is greatly appreciated."
"I knew you should have told her about Seven," said B'Elanna sadly.
"Hell I knew I should have told her B'Elanna," said Chakotay, rocking back a little in frustration.
"Alright alright," said Tom. "So I gave you bad advice. If I always gave good advice, Harry would be a Captain with five kids by now."
"It would have been nice for you to add that disclaimer before you got him into this mess," said B'Elanna.
"No," said Chakotay. "It's not your fault Tom. I should have told her."
"Do you think that would have changed everything though?" B'Elanna asked.
Chakotay paused, confused.
"What do you mean?" He leaned forward on his seat, wondering where this was going.
"Well, it's easy to see her being upset that you didn't tell her about Seven because she's such a 'this is how things are supposed to be' kind of a person, but it also doesn't make sense for her to have planned that elaborate weekend without expecting that something might happen," B'Elanna stirred the tea she was steeping for him thoughtfully. "Even if nothing had happened at all, the Janeway I know would have thought a getaway weekend was inappropriate if you were with Seven."
Chakotay groaned.
"I did also accuse her of setting me up," said Chakotay.
"Well," said B'Elanna, biting her lip, "she kind of did."
"That doesn't sound like her," said Chakotay.
"I know," said B'Elanna, "but maybe it wasn't something she was aware she was doing? Maybe she's angrier at herself than at you, or maybe she's not really angry at all… just confused."
Chakotay was moving as fast as he could through the Plaza on Sikaris, trying to round up the last of the crew without causing any alarm.
He was just about to reach an ensign, whose name he couldn't yet recall, when Gath stepped in front of him.
"Commander," said Gath. "If I might have a word with you."
Chakotay reluctantly followed him to his "office," though lounge would have been more apt.
There was no real desk. The room was, for the most part, stuffed with inconspicuous shelving and color coordinated lounge seats and pillows. The decorating was lovely, but Chakotay was having a hard time understanding how a society could function in a perpetual state of relaxation.
"Your Captain," Gath said, giving him little time to speculate. "She is very angry with me."
Chakotay stood silent. How exactly did Gath expect him to respond?
"Rightfully so," Gath said, looking at the floor. "I said some horrible things to her."
Chakotay shuffled his feet uncomfortably.
"You know what it's like, don't you?" Gath pleaded. "You meet a woman so beautiful and with such a compassionate soul and you would say almost anything to try and spend another moment in her presence!"
Chakotay swallowed. In fact, he'd tried very hard not to think about his Captain that way at all. In that moment, he found himself actually feeling bad for Gath, as pompous and asinine as the man was.
"Look," said Gath. "I know I can't say anything that would correct the situation, but I wonder if I might ask you a favor?"
"A favor?" Chakotay was apprehensive.
"Yes," said Gath, reaching for a small pouch on one of the shelves. "I wonder if you might keep this."
Chakotay opened the pouch and dropped its contents into his open palm. It was a small gemstone, canary yellow, and he had to admit that there was something about the way it caught the light that made it entirely captivating and exceedingly beautiful.
"I don't think she will want it now," Gath said. "She is so angry."
Gath looked down again in sorrow.
"But perhaps, one day, when her appreciation of beauty is not painful to her because of how far away your home is, she may want to remember this place," Gath met Chakotay's eyes. "When she no longer carries those burdens, I think she'll enjoy the pleasure that looking at it will bring."
Chakotay closed his palm.
"Okay," he said quietly.
He felt obligated to tell the Captain about the meeting almost as soon as they left the system, and immediately regretted it.
"What?"
Chakotay could tell, immediately, that she had hoped to never hear Gath's name again.
"He said he knew you probably wouldn't want it now," said Chakotay, "but he wanted me to give you a gift."
Chakotay opened his palm and showed the Captain the stone. He could see on her face that she wasn't immune to its beauty, but he could also tell that she was still feeling extraordinarily bitter about their dealings on Sikaris.
She looked away from it, her eyes glistening.
"Get rid of it," she ordered.
"What do you want me to do with it?"
"I don't care," she said, struggling to maintain her composure. "I just don't want it."
Chakotay remembered Gath's last words to him.
"Captain," he said. "Maybe I should just… keep it for you. Maybe one day, after we've reached Earth, you might decide you want it after all."
"Maybe," she said gruffly. "But right now we're still decades from home and I don't… I don't have the luxury of keeping souvenirs from every planet we visit."
"I'll keep it then," he said. "And if you ever decide you want it you'll know where it is."
"Fine Commander," she said, touched but near breaking, "you're dismissed."
Later, Chakotay sat on the Paris' porch swing, looking at the ring he'd been carrying for years now. Something about what B'Elanna had said had made him think of that day, when Gath had unwittingly given Chakotay insight into the conflicted psyche of the Captain that served him for years.
Kathryn had spent years practicing nothing but self-sacrifice. Was B'Elanna right? Was she angry and confused by enjoying something she felt she still shouldn't enjoy?
Seven years was a long time, long enough to form habits that would have been very difficult to break.
Maybe he was just as guilty. Maybe he hadn't told her about Seven for the same reason he hadn't told her he was with Seven in the first place. On some level was he just in the habit of trying to put as little pressure on her as possible, hiding his personal problems despite their tendency to cause both of them problems in the long run?
Even on the Lake, things had been almost exactly the same as they'd been on the ship when they allowed themselves a bit of time alone in the holodeck. They could play at happiness while still never crossing those boundaries.
Until he changed the parameters.
He refused to entertain the idea that making love to her had been a mistake.
But maybe he should have given it more time, time to break those habits.
He shook his head.
We've spent enough time holding back as it is.
So what now? An apology was clearly in order. Would it be enough?
Just steer clear of the angry warrior legends, said the voice in his head. It sounded ridiculous then and it would sound ridiculous now.
And it didn't work.
Chakotay snapped the box shut. It was time to 'get the girl.'