Masks
By Joan Powers
Summary: What is it about a mask that allows a person to step outside of themself? Janeway/Chakotay
A/N: I love a good masquerade ball. This is in response to a Halloween story prompt from the J/C Voyager Addict Facebook page. Thanks to Bizarra, CaptainKJaneway, and N-Squared, for their input, although the story ended up taking a slightly different direction.
Kathryn cautiously brought the cup of punch beneath her veil. After taking a small sip, she nearly gagged, her throat was burning. Coughing then swallowing, she suspected the concoction contained far more spirits than mixer. However, it had been a while since the crew had been able to relax and celebrate together and she wasn't about to detract from that.
Besides, speaking would reveal her identity. Her distinctive husky voice would be a dead give-away.
At first, she'd been confused by Tom and Neelix's suggestion of a masquerade party. Weren't costumes for children? And why completely disguise their identities? They insisted that everyone's faces should be covered or at the very least, people should wear decorative masks.
What was the fun in that?
Yet overhearing conversations in the mess hall and the corridors where crew members were excitedly planning their costumes, she realized it might be amusing. And half of the entertainment would be fooling each other.
After nearly three years of captaining Voyager and being infinitesimally closer to home, she was more than ready to step into someone else's shoes for an evening. She needed a break from being the Captain, who was always on duty and in charge.
The more she considered it, concealing her identity for one night felt like a luxury where she could sidestep the rigid constraints of command. Even act a little crazy if she felt like it. If she was careful, no one would notice.
As she surveyed the crowded holodeck, she noticed that the crew had gone all out with their costumes. Some couples had replicated Regency period outfits with full length gowns and tailored trousers, cravats, and jackets, along with wigs and elaborate masks which covered most of their faces. She supposed the men in gaudy glittery jump suits and dark wigs were that ancient entertainer - Elvis? There were superheroes, ghosts, witches, mummies, and even a few Captain Proton characters.
Several crewmen didn't seem as concerned about disguising their identities, wearing skimpy Roman tunics or clingy bodysuits that left little to the imagination, along with simple black masks covering only their eyes.
Her heart began to race when she noticed a Vidian and two Borg. But they were only costumes, she reminded herself. She was tempted to dress them down for using poor judgment. But then everyone would realize who she was and act differently.
She liked being anonymous.
Studying the crowd, she could immediately recognize several members of her senior staff. Due to their diminished height, Neelix and Kes would always stand out. They were dressed as characters from a classic children's book, The Wizard of Oz. Kes was Dorothy, with her hair lengthened and pulled into two pigtails. She was wearing a short blue gingham pinafore and shiny red shoes, while Neelix as the cowardly lion, was clad in a cumbersome furry body suit. He kept apologizing as his large tail randomly hit people or spilled their drinks. Both wore silver glitter covered masks.
The Doctor didn't seem to understand the concept of the masquerade, dressed in a tuxedo, mostly carrying his plain mask in his hand, not lifting it to cover his face. He stood stiffly in a corner.
It intrigued her that there were many people who she couldn't identify. She always loved solving mysteries. Could that ninja in the corner be Tuvok? The height and skin tone seemed right. Then again, Tuvok had volunteered to man the bridge with a few others, allowing the rest of the crew to relax at the party.
A man dressed as Dracula bumped into her, inadvertently sloshing punch on her. He apologized, his hand lingering on her arm. She immediately recognized Tom's voice. She smiled then realized he couldn't see her response through her veil. She nodded enthusiastically indicating there were no hard feelings. He read more into her response, tugging her towards the dance floor.
She was pleased with her costume choice. It was bold for her standards, an Arabian harem girl with a veil fully covering her hair, mouth, and nose. She wore a long brunette wig to disguise her distinct red hair. She'd even altered her skin tone to make it appear golden. Heavy eye makeup and dark eye liner helped disguise her eyes. Shiny sequins and beading covered the top of the turquoise harem pants that rode low on her hips, exposing her stomach and bellybutton. Her off-the-shoulder top clung to her breasts, revealing a daring amount of cleavage.
She'd been tempted to play it safe. She was the captain, the parental authority figure for her crew. She'd dutifully replicated her asexual full body cat costume. It would've been comfortable, but she was tired of playing it safe. She wanted to celebrate.
She leaned into Tom as they danced. His hands rested on the exposed skin of her back. Then one dipped to cover her rear. She didn't resist, enjoying human contact, though she wasn't used to being man handled in this fashion.
Perhaps there were some privileges to being the captain.
As Tom tried to get her to talk, so he could guess who she was, she could barely contain her laughter. Wouldn't he just die of embarrassment if he knew it was her?
When the song ended, she inclined her chin to say goodbye then stepped away, despite Tom's protests. She didn't get very far. A pirate grabbed her arm and directed her back to the dance floor for a faster number.
It had been a long time since she'd done something like this. She and Mark tended to favor quiet evenings at home. Yet she was enjoying herself.
When a slow song started, the pirate pulled her against him. She settled her head on his shoulder while scanning the room, keeping her eyes out for a certain person. With his skin tone and stature, it wouldn't be hard to distinguish him. They'd teased each other about their costumes, though never revealed any details. She'd been here over an hour and still hadn't found him.
Maybe he'd gone to great lengths to conceal himself. Was he the Borg or the Vidian? Or one of the ghosts or mummies? Yet none of them seemed tall enough.
Could he be this pirate? She didn't think so. The skin tone was off, and his shoulders didn't seem broad enough.
The pirate was getting a little too friendly, brushing his hands against her breasts and slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of her pants. There was flirting and then there were boundaries she had no intention of crossing. She batted his hands away. She grew more uncomfortable when he kissed her forehead. When he attempted to push aside her veil to kiss her, she'd had enough. She walked away. She wasn't about to let him spoil her evening.
She crossed the crowded room, hoping to put some distance between her and the amorous pirate, as well as continue searching for Chakotay. She grabbed another glass of the toxic punch. Then she thought better and put it aside.
She focused on body concealing costumes. Could he be the Grim Reaper who was carrying the enormous scythe? That person was certainly tall enough. Or the sexy skeleton? She sighed. She didn't think it would be this challenging. She hoped to have at least one dance with him.
Another crewman strode confidently towards her. He was wearing an Arabian outfit. She could only imagine his feeble attempts at flirting. Some cheesy line about their similar costumes indicating they were destined to be together. She snorted.
To her surprise, he didn't speak, he only grabbed her arm and directed her to the dance floor. Although his face was partially exposed, she didn't recognize him. The upper portion was covered with a black mask, while a well-trimmed dark beard concealed his other features. Rather than fumbling about with his hands like Tom or the pirate, this man lead more confidently as they danced.
She couldn't figure out what his costume was. An Arabian prince? A sheik? He was wearing loose white pants tucked into soft tan leather boots. His flowing white shirt was overlaid with a fancy golden tunic covered with elaborate designs. Similar golden gauntlets covered his forearms. A white cloak trailed behind him, which also covered his head. A black braided headband held it in place.
Leaning against him, something felt familiar. Yet she continued to periodically lift her head to peruse the crowd.
The prince boldly leaned forward to kiss the top of her exposed shoulder. Unlike the pirate's inept slobber, this sent an unexpected surge of desire sizzling through her. His kiss felt far more intimate, which confused her.
Her breath caught in her throat, and she trembled as he continued, slowly pressing warm lingering kisses along her shoulder working his way up to the base of her throat. She didn't want him to stop.
Pressed closely against him, she realized that the tunic was actually a breastplate of armor. A large sword was sheathed in a holster by his side.
This was no prince or sheik.
This was a soldier.
A warrior.
Her angry warrior.
How had she missed this?
His beard covered most of the lower portion of his face, including those delightful dimples. His only exposed skin was his hands and eyes. But once she looked into them, she should've recognized him.
She knew those hands, she remembered how they felt, massaging the knots of tension out of her shoulders. They felt just as wonderful stroking her back.
And his kisses felt even better than she'd imagined.
Sensing she'd had a revelation, he whispered. "I know it's you, Kathryn."
Her alarm must've shown in her eyes because he rapidly added. "Don't worry, No one else has figured it out. You look fabulous."
"What gave me away?"
He shrugged. "How could I not know you?" His brown eyes held her blue ones. "I want to kiss you."
Although this was unexpected, at this moment, she wanted that more than anything. She was tired of denying her feelings. She didn't want to wrestle with the potential complications. She'd deal with that tomorrow when she was once again the Captain.
He took her hand, leading her to a secluded alcove off the main party area. Then he unfastened her veil and captured her lips with his. She melted against him, enjoying the kiss, grasping his shoulders, somewhat frustrated by the fact she couldn't feel his bare skin, as his hands confidently caressed her.
"Kathryn, you know I love you and want to be with you."
His mask had made him bolder. Rather than couching his feelings within a fictional legend, he was outright confessing them.
"I want to fall asleep with you in my arms and wake up with you beside me. I want to share your burdens. I want to grow old with you. I know this might be hard for you but know that I'm willing to wait for you. No matter how long it takes. I want to be with you, always."
After so many harrowing experiences, she'd grown weary. She was tired of ignoring her needs. Tired of carrying the burden of leadership on her own.
They kissed again.
When they broke apart to breath, Chakotay said, "I'd rather not wait until we get home, but if that's what you need, I understand."
His words were touching. She appreciated that he was willing to respect her wishes. To play the game on her terms.
Under normal circumstances, she would've acknowledged the sentiment and then bid him goodnight, spending the rest of the evening brooding. But tonight, when she'd already allowed her emotions to escape, to take charge, she couldn't do it.
Besides, she'd already crossed that border by kissing him. Retreat was impossible.
"I don't want to wait anymore, either. Let's go someplace more private."
She clasped his hand, but he didn't follow. First, he adjusted her veil so it covered her face. Then, holding hands, they threaded their way through the crowded holodeck and headed for her quarters.
THE END