There will likely be a landslide of stories following "Coda," so here's
my contribution! Inspiration must be dealt with, not ignored, and I hope
you enjoy the tale that comes from *this* burst of inspiration. Thank you,
Jeri Taylor, for continuing the J/C storyline; I look forward to its future.
Paramount owns the characters, I'm just romping through the rich garden
for a brief moment.
"The Times We Have to Remember": PG-13, post-"Coda"; Kathryn and
Chakotay take that moonlight sail on Lake George.
Any and all comments are greatly appreciated at [email protected]. When
you write, you inspire me to write more.
* * *
"That is happiness: to be dissolved into something complete and great."
~Willa Cather
"Casual." The last word she'd said before leaving him to come here. He'd dressed casual all right, black
trousers topped with a flowing white shirt. The sandals on his feet felt alien after his uniform boots.
Chakotay paused on the holodeck's threshold, looking at the scene before him. Lake George, she'd said.
He'd had to do a little research to learn that Lake George was located on Earth's North American
continent, in what had once been New York State. Now, the entire place was a nature reserve. From
the research he'd done and from the holodeck scene he was now presented with, he discovered that
Kathryn had done her homework as well. Had she come here as a child? Why was this place special to
her? He couldn't wait to learn the answer.
He spotted her by the lake's edge, a boat resting on the shore. He smiled faintly. They'd finally get to
sail together. The moonlight she'd promised flooded over everything, turning everything milky-white.
Kathryn was wearing a shoulder-bearing slip dress; he couldn't tell its actual colour--the moonlight had
changed it, too. It fell in soft waves to her sandaled feet, her braided hair falling like a thick rope down the
back of the dress. The night was a summer one, and it was hard to believe that the breeze which skittered
over his bare arms was programmed.
As the doors closed behind him, they faded away into trees. Holodeck technology always impressed him;
everything seemed so bloody real. When Kathryn turned, the look in her eyes was real enough. She smiled,
and waved. He would have to shout to speak to her, but he kept his silence, returning the wave, making
his way toward her.
Kathryn's breath caught in her throat. And so he'd come. She waved, and then turned back to the boat,
maneuvering an oar through its guide. Her stomach twisted with a spasm of nervousness, not unlike the
first time she'd ever looked at Chakotay. Now, she wondered what he thought of the program. It was one
of her favourite places, and had taken a while to program. She hadn't been happy with the previous three
versions, but this one was perfect, every little detail recalled from her memory. Including the distant chatter
of night birds.
"Beautiful."
Kathryn looked at him. He stood on the opposite side of the boat, hands on his broad hips, surveying the
area. She followed his eyes over the massive lake, over the wooded islands that dotted it. It was beautiful,
but when she looked at him again, he was looking at her. She smiled, thankful the moonlight covered the
flush that crept into her cheeks.
"Shall we?" she asked, gesturing to the boat.
Chakotay looked at the rig and smiled. It was similar to the one he'd been building on New Earth. Simple,
but completely functional. There were two pillows in this boat, one at either end, and one rough wool
blanket spread over the bottom.
"After you," he insisted.
Chakotay bent and held the prow of the boat as Kathryn stepped in. She steadied herself with a hand on his
shoulder. Through his shirt, Kathryn could feel the hard bone of his shoulder, the heat of his skin; he
always seemed to be warm, a small, contained fire. She moved to the back of the boat, and once she sat,
Chakotay game it a firm shove, muscles rippling in his forearms. The boat moved into the water, and Chakotay followed, up to his knees in the lake. He pulled himself into the boat, water flying. Kathryn
was flecked with it, and she laughed as the boat jostled with his added weight.
"Well, that was graceful," he said, bending to pull his sandals off. He squeezed the water from his trousers,
and then rolled the fabric up to bare his ankles.
Kathryn was still smiling. "If that's what you want to call it."
Chakotay flicked water at her and she laughed again. But it was a strained laughter, and he understood why.
She'd said casual, but there was nothing casual about this. Kathryn had almost died a few hours ago, and
though she was trying, she wasn't removing herself from the memory. There was no counselor on board;
he remembered Kathryn telling him their mission had been expected to be a short one. Who knew that they
would need such help?
"Kathryn, if you want to talk about it--"
"I know," she interrupted. "Not yet," she added in a whisper, her eyes moving over the water.
Chakotay nodded, respecting her wish. "Where to?" he asked, lifting the oars. The water pearled on them
and rolled off in slow drops. The boat drifted free, slow in the water that looked black here and there, silver
ribbons snaking through.
Kathryn gestured behind Chakotay. "That way is fine," she said quietly. A frown coloured her features
briefly, and she wrapped her arms around herself. It was not cold, but she felt a chill.
Chakotay looked at her as he began to work the oars. She looked small, afraid, but he wouldn't push the
subject. He had asked, she had said no. For now, that was enough. She would come to it in her own time;
it would be tonight, he knew, otherwise she wouldn't have asked him to this place. This place was a happy
one for her, and she wanted to share it for a reason. He would wait, and in time, she would tell him what she
needed to.
Kathryn started out at the water. Wherever the moonlight shimmered, she saw the alien matrix she'd almost
stepped into. Blinking, she was surprised to find her eyes wet. She dashed away a single tear, hoping
Chakotay had not seen. She stole a glance at him; his attention was on the right oar. Kathryn took in a
breath and released it slowly, looking at the small island they were passing.
She had last been here with her family, though she couldn't remember the exact occasion. Her father, her
mother, her sister... Her father. Thinking of him now, she didn't see him, but the alien who'd come to her
to lure her into his realm where he would feed from her energy. Now, a shiver passed through her and her
hands tightened on her bare arms. Such arrogance...both him and her, but she'd...deep down, she'd been
terrified. She wondered where she'd learned to put on such a false front. She couldn't remember an
Academy course on it, but it seemed that every captain she'd met had the ability to put up such a screen, a
screen that let only strength and confidence shine through, while fear remained hidden from the enemy. She
knew it was a worthy asset, but at the same time, it often left her feeling hollow. When would she be
allowed to show the fear? When would she be permitted to own up to it?
She hadn't let Mark see it. She had loved him, certainly, but she hadn't let him inside her darkest caverns.
They hadn't even shared the same house, how could they share the deepest parts of themselves? Looking
back, it made her sad to think of the things they hadn't shared. Certainly, he'd known her well, but he
hadn't seen the darkest parts of her heart, hadn't seen the things that sometimes kept her awake at night.
No, the screen hadn't slipped then. With Chakotay...it was beginning to. On New Earth, certainly she'd
let him see a side of her that none other had. And now...
She hadn't brought Mark to Lake George. Once, she had been about to invite him; she could remember
the day as plain as she could remember her ready room. They'd been at her house, working in the flower
beds. Mark was weeding out the dead geranium flowers while she added new pansies. She'd turned toward
him, to offer the invitation, but in that moment, something changed. She'd closed her mouth and kept her
silence. She still didn't know why.
But Chakotay, she'd invited him without a second thought. To get away, had been her first thought, to go
somewhere safe and familiar. To be with someone safe and familiar. Here she was, and she wasn't feeling
any better. The program was real enough, but still, it was only a program. Fake water, fake trees, fake
sounds...all of it fake. Even the damn boat didn't really exist. Outside, the Delta Quadrant still lurked, with
all of its dangers, and eventually, she'd have to return to it. Lake George couldn't run forever, she couldn't
hide under the wool blanket here, and come out when they reached the Alpha Quadrant. But she wanted
to. Just for a while. Just go away for a while, and... *And what, Kathryn? You fool. You wouldn't be
happy hiding. That isn't you.* She shook her head. It wasn't her, no, but she needed....something. Some
one.
Her eyes focused on Chakotay. He was the only real thing here. Real skin and bone and muscle and breath
and heat. Needing that wasn't something to be ashamed of. She closed her eyes, and felt the screen slip.
"Kathryn?" Chakotay pulled the oars from the water, resting them inside the boat. Silently, the tears ran
down Kathryn's face, her body vibrating with the confined sobbing. Chakotay came to her, kneeling on
one knee as his hands rested on her arms.
Kathryn jumped, unaware that he'd moved, She opened her eyes, willing the tears not to come, but they
did and she silently damned them for disobeying her. Just like the memorial services when Harry had
recalled the two of them eating fruit till fingers and face were stained purple. Yep, she could feel her chin
trembling, and that was never a good sign. She couldn't control it, couldn't control the fear that swept over
her and wrapped its hand around her heart. She gasped for a breath. Damn, damn, damn...
"Kathryn."
It was a whisper, a plea, a caress.
Kathryn shook her head and shrugged as best as she could. The words wouldn't come, only tears, and
as he reached for her, she gave into them. Chakotay gathered her into his arms, turning her so her back fit
against his front. He wrapped his arms and legs around her, holding her inside his entire embrace, and as he
bent his cheek to the top of her head, the tears came harder.
Kathryn drew in a halting breath, her hand closing around Chakotay's wrist. She could feel his pulse,
strong and steady and alive. His skin was hot, always that inner fire. She drew in a more even breath and
exhaled it slowly. Her tears had fallen to dampen the front of her sundress; wet splotches decorated her
now, like an abstract painting. Chakotay's arms were crossed in front of her like a shield, and slowly, she
began to feel a little safer.
As she quieted, Chakotay gently hugged her closer. He pressed his cheek against hers, feeling the dampness.
He turned slightly, kissing her cheek. He could taste her tears on his lips. Salt, water, life. Carefully, he
drew her down to the blanket, so they lay on their left sides, his front still pressed to her back. As they lay
down, Kathryn sighed. It was a sound of comfort, of trust. Chakotay's arm became Kathryn's pillow, his
body her blanket. She reached back and touched his thigh, letting her hand rest there.
Chakotay looked up at the sky. It looked like a velvet cloth scattered with bits of diamond. The star
formations were familiar to him, though he hadn't been on Earth in quite a while. Leo, the Big
Dipper... No Orion, for this was a summer sky. Chakotay's arms tightened around Kathryn and he let
his eyes close. She felt good against him, her soft bottom pressing against his slight erection, her breasts
rising and falling with even breaths just above his right arm. He nuzzled closer, smelling her hair. No
perfume, just smelling the way she'd smelled on New Earth. Fresh, clean, full of life. Life. Thank the
gods for that. Losing her... No, he didn't even want to contemplate it. Their relationship remained
undefined. More than friends, yes, but how much more he didn't know. For now, all of this was enough,
and when it was time for more, they would know. And he would trust in that.
The boat drifted without guidance, following the gentle eddies that moved the lake water. All around them,
night settled, a bird cooing now and then. The breeze was turning colder, but Chakotay hardly noticed it;
the heat between him and Kathryn was more than enough to keep him warm.
Kathryn heard and felt him slip into sleep; his breathing deepened, and his body went slack, but still he held
on to her. Carefully, so as not to wake him, Kathryn turned in his arms. Chakotay shifted unconsciously,
accommodating her new position. Kathryn smiled softly, gently touching his still face. Her left hand traced
his right cheek, down to his jaw, stubbly after the long day. Chakotay turned into her touch, revealing his
tattoo to her. Kathryn leaned closer and pressed a kiss against the design, letting her tongue briefly taste
the skin. She closed her eyes. He tasted of salt and man, of heat and fatigue.
When she opened her eyes, he let her gaze travel over him, down his strong neck, admiring the way the
thin collar of the shirt lay against his skin. The shirt seemed to glow in the darkness, its white so stark
against his caramel coloured skin. Seven buttons ran down the shirt, and without thinking, she reached for
the first, slipping it free. The second followed, and the third...the fourth...the fifth. She lay the shirt open
and pressed her hand against his chest. Heat, heartbeat. She closed her eyes again, trying to memorize
the rhythm of his heart so she would know it in the dark without question. Once done, she opened her eyes
to him again, startled to find herself looking into his open eyes. She opened her mouth, but he lay a finger
across it, silencing her.
As the finger traced her lips and moved down to her chin and then throat, Kathryn shivered. She wasn't
cold, but she couldn't stop the shivering. Chakotay pulled her closer with his other arm, lending her all the
warmth of him. Pressed this close, Kathryn felt the hard length of him crushed against her and she closed
her eyes, forcing this into memory as well.
When she felt his hands in her hair, she sighed, and murmured his name. He brushed a kiss over her temple,
working his finger into each junction of the thick plait, freeing the golden-brown strands until they fell free
over her bare shoulders. Kathryn's hands opened and closed in his shirt as his hands slid over her back and
lower. As they ran over her bottom, the shivers started anew, but this time, they were in him, too.
Chakotay held her tightly, remembering how still she'd lain on the planet's ground. Still and dying, now
here she was full of life and breath. He remembered the touch of his lips against hers, hers cooling and
unresponsive. To force that memory away, he kissed her once more now, fitting his lips over hers. Warm
and open to him, she responded in kind, her tongue sweeping over his to reaffirm that she was alive, that she
hadn't forgotten how to live. Chakotay whispered her name into her mouth as he ate away at her lips in a
devouring investigation that left her smiling.
Her smile brought one of his own to his face, and he drew her head beneath his chin, so he could hold her
there and memorize the way she fit against him. His hand came to rest against her neck, where he could
feel her pulse; insistent and hard, it reassured him.
Kathryn placed a kiss along Chakotay's collarbone, letting one hand rest inside his shirt. It fell across his
breast, his nipple puckering in response to the contact. Faintly, she could hear the water lapping against the
boat, like a song without words. Words... Kathryn propped herself up on her right elbow, and Chakotay
looked up at her, brushing her hair away from her jaw. His eyes held questions that his lips would not form;
Kathryn smiled softly, touching his mouth with her fingertips. He wouldn't ask anything of her; he'd
already questioned her, and after her refusal, she knew he wouldn't press in where she didn't want him until
she did want him there. Now, she did. She needed him there.
"Chakotay," she said, her voice thick, "do you remember the Komar?"
Chakotay closed his eyes. It had been early in their journey back to the Alpha Quadrant. While exploring a
dark matter nebula, he and Tuvok had been attacked. Chakotay's bio-neural energy had been drained, and
he'd lain brain dead in Sickbay. He opened his eyes when Kathryn touched his cheek.
"Yes," he said.
"You said you felt as though you'd never left...that because your energy, your spirit was still here--" She
broke off, shaking her head. "I saw things and I don't know what was real and what wasn't."
Slowly, Chakotay sat up, and crossed his legs Indian-style. Kathryn sat up as well. Chakotay reached out
and took her hands.
"The shuttle crashed," he said, "and you were badly injured. You...you died, Kathryn, and the doctor was
able to bring you back."
Kathryn frowned. "I saw you," she said. "Trying to save me."
Chakotay's eyes searched hers. In the blue depths, he saw nothing but honesty mingled with fear. He gave
her hands a squeeze. "I did try," he said, nodding. "What else could I do? I tried and still--" He drew in a
sharp breath. "Don't do it again."
Kathryn smiled at the rebuke in his voice. "Aye, sir," she said softly. "It wasn't exactly pleasant for me,
either. When I looked at myself lying there, I remembered you in Sickbay. I almost wished you'd been
there, to help me through."
"I was there, Kathryn." He reached out and pressed his hand over her heart. "I always am."
They sat that way for the longest time, just looking at each other. The scrutiny should have been unnerving,
but it was comforting. Only when the boat suddenly rocked up against the shore were they once again
aware of their surroundings.
"Should we row back?" Chakotay knew he could call for the exit anywhere and it would appear, as the
program adjusted as to their position. They hadn't really moved at all, the program only made it seem so.
Kathryn knew it, too. "Let's walk," she said.
Chakotay smiled. He waded into the water again and pulled the boat closer to the shore. Offering his hand,
he helped Kathryn step from the boat, smiling when she took her sandals off to walk barefoot through the
grass.
"Have you made your official report yet?" Chakotay asked, claiming her hand again and tucking it into the
crook of his arm as they walked.
Kathryn shook her head. "No. When you came into my ready room, I was trying, but I wasn't getting
anywhere," she admitted. "I was wondering if we should appoint someone as counselor, but I think the time
here has been more healing than anything I could have gotten with a counselor."
Chakotay smiled softly. "Open twenty-four hours a day," he said. "Whenever you need me," he added,
covering her hand with his.
Kathryn smiled as they walked on. She couldn't ask for a better counselor than Chakotay. "Seriously, I
do wonder about a counselor, though."
Chakotay nodded. "We could look through the crew records," he suggested.
"I think we should."
Chakotay knew she was concerned for herself, but also for the crew. Not only in this matter, but others.
Kim and Paris after their time in the alien prison, Kes and her experiences with the Ocampa under the
custody of the female Caretaker, Chakotay himself after his encounter with the Komar. Everyone could
benefit from a counselor, someone they could really talk with. But Chakotay didn't want to lose this,
either.
They walked in silence, their steps even, the summer breeze blowing Kathryn's skirt out before her. She
would pat it down, but it would fly again. Eventually, she gave up with a laugh. It didn't even occur to
her to tell the computer to decrease the wind; this had all become too real to her, a place of safety and
familiarity.
"When were you here last?" Chakotay asked.
"My family and I would always come here," she said.
"A safe place then."
Kathryn nodded. "Yes."
"I'm honored that you chose to share it with me," he said.
"I didn't give it a second thought," she admitted. "I wanted you here."
Chakotay smiled and pulled Kathryn to a stop. "That means a lot to me, Kathryn. Maybe next time, I can
share a treasured place of my own."
Next time, she thought, pleased. "I would like that."
"But, one thing," he said as they resumed their walking.
"What's that?" she asked with a smile.
"Don't forget the champagne again." He gestured ahead of them.
Kathryn followed the line of his arm. There, in the grass by the bank where they'd first started out, was the
bottle of champagne. As Kathryn laughed, Chakotay pulled her close in a hug. The sound was good, life-
affirming. Kathryn left his side, moving toward the bottle. When she picked it up, she brought it to
Chakotay and handed it to him with a smile.
"I leave it in your capable charge," she said.
Chakotay's hands closed around he bottle, but it felt as though Kathryn had just handed him more than
champagne. "I won't forget," he said quietly.
Kathryn smiled and touched his strong arm. "Neither will I," she promised.
