Round Robin
CHAPTER TITLE: Into the Light
The smile faded from Chakotay's face, leaving it with a curiously empty
expression. "You...can't." His arms, still raised to draw her into the embrace
she'd rejected, dropped awkwardly to his sides. "What do you mean, you can't?"
The hollowness of his voice pulled at her susceptible heart, testing her
resolution. As if to protect her from the still-enticing possibility of his
arms, her own arms folded around herself. "I said, I can't." She hoped her
voice sounded firmer to him than it did to herself. Even knowing, *knowing*
that he didn't love her the way she hoped, she was tempted to yield to him.
Even a moment's stolen pleasure in his embrace would be far too sweet.
"Oh," he said, still with that odd expression. But she must have been
sufficiently convincing for, after regarding her a moment longer, he turned
away. In the confusion of her own emotions, B'Elanna hardly knew whether to be
sorry or relieved.
He took a few steps away from her, the angle of his head indicating he was
examining the edges of the hole they'd dropped through. "Let's get the hell out
of here," he said finally.
He'd already given up on the subject of their talk. Well, how much could it
really have meant to him, then? A sigh escaped her, and her shoulders sagged.
She'd been right to turn him away.
"Come here." He turned toward her, his fingers beckoning, and her heart leapt.
But the expression on his bruised face was guarded, closed, and his voice was
perfectly even. "I'm going to boost you over the lip of the hole."
"Excuse me?" Her own voice was uncertain.
"I'm going to boost you over the lip of the hole. You step into my hands," he
cupped them to illustrate, "and I'll lift you up. See the multicolored lights?"
He pointed to one end of the hole, from which gleaming spectral rainbows were
visible. "That's where the crystal formation is. I'll throw you in that
direction, since that's where we need to get. When you hit the ground, go
spread-eagle to distribute your weight as widely as possible, and crawl toward
the crystals." He aimed his tricorder toward the dirt ceiling of the chamber,
and studied the readings. "In about three meters, it should be safe for you to
stand up."
"And?"
"And if we're lucky, there'll be an outcropping of rock strong enough for you to anchor the rope in your kit on." His finger indicated her small backpack.
"Then you tie the rope and throw the end to me. I'll climb up."
Without another word, she complied, stepping into his hand and letting him throw her onto the floor above. //Don't think, just do. Like survival training.// She wriggled the prescribed distance, then another meter for caution, before she stood. As she came to her feet, she dusted herself off, a pang pulsing irresistibly through her when she saw the blood on her fingers and remembered how it had come to be there. //Don't think, do,// she admonished herself again, looking for a suitable outcropping to anchor her rope on.
"How's it look up there?" Chakotay called.
As before, sunshine glittered off the ore deposits, creating flickering rainbows of light. //Beautiful. It's beautiful.// Something blurred her vision as she remembered the last time she'd seen the gleaming crystals. Objectively it hadn't been long before, but since it had been before the death of her hopes, it seemed a lifetime ago. //Don't *think*, dammit!// Rubbing her eyes hastily with the back of her hand, she looked again and saw what he needed: a thick jut of rock angling out from the side of the cave. "Fine," she said, more hoarsely than she might have hoped. (Though perhaps he would only attribute that to all the dirt in the air.) "Looks good. Give me a minute to secure the rope."
Maquis learned how to work under pressure; Starfleet officers learned how to
stay calm in trying circumstances. B'Elanna called on both those disciplines
now, willing her hands to work smoothly and efficiently as she wrapped a length
of rope around the rock and knotted it firmly. She tied the other end to her
canteen, for ballast, and threw it into the hole.
The rope jerked taut, a narrow strip of soil crumbling beneath its pressure, and she knew without looking that Chakotay was pulling himself up. Clearing the lip of the hole, he lay flat on the ground as she'd done, wriggling forward toward B'Elanna and the stable section of floor. When it was safe for him to stand, she extended her hand to help him up.
"Thanks," he said. She tried to withdraw her hand, but he held it fast. When
she looked up, startled, she found him looking steadily down, with a smoldering
intensity she remembered.
Remembered even though she'd never seen it from him. //I'm the Chakotay you
want me to be.// At the memory, at the sight that evoked it, she shivered,
despite the warmth of the air. "Chakotay...?"
"B'Elanna," his smudged and bruised face so close to hers that she could see
nothing but his features, bright with refracted light, "I think you can."
"No, I..." She tried to push away, but his other hand caught hers. "Chakotay,
you don't love me...you *can't* love me."
"*I* don't love *you*?" His lips were parted in disbelief. Then the corners of
his mouth twitched up into a tiny smile, and he snorted. "And here I was afraid
you were going to say *you* didn't love *me*."
"Dammit, Chakotay!" This time she did succeed in yanking her hands free, and
she stalked away from him, toward the crystalline wall. "This isn't funny! I
know you have a sick sense of humor, but I never thought you'd throw my own
feelings up to me!" She'd thought he wasn't like the others, the stupid
schoolboys who'd thought it was so funny to trick the ugly Klingon bitch into
falling for them...
"B'Elanna!" Swift as a hunting cat he came after her, bracketing her against
the wall with both arms and pinning her there with his body, and she looked up
and there he was, *Chakotay*, solid and real and not (she knew) the kind of man
who could ever have engaged in the kind of cruel joke she'd accused him of.
"This isn't a game," he said strongly, his eyes locking with hers. "I'm not
trying to be funny. There's only one reason I'd ever want you to love me,
B'Elanna. Because I love you."
"As a friend..." she stammered, though that was not the look on his face.
"Yes," he said, more softly. "As a friend." Before her heart could sink, he
smiled a little and added, "But not *just* as a friend." Bowing his head, he
applied his lips to hers.
It was like but unlike the kiss she'd fantasized, back in Bothan space: hot,
intense, and yet, somehow, searching. Her moan, the tilt of her head to match
the angle of his, were irresistible instinct. When his head came up at last, he
looked down at her with unfocused eyes, as if he were drunk. She knew the
feeling, as she looked up at him in amazement. "I love you," he said again,
huskily, and bent for a second kiss.
This time she met him with more enthusiasm, the heat of his body against hers
melting her doubts.
He was, it turned out, a good kisser. A very good kisser, indeed. They
explored the possibilities of lips and mouths and tongues for quite some time,
there in the glittering light of the crystals.
* * * * *
Three weeks later, Voyager swung back through the system where First Officer and Chief Engineer had been busily extracting dilithium.
Captain Janeway was in a wonderful mood. All of Voyager's supply missions had
gone well. On one planet, she and Neelix had been able to arrange a trade for
some excellent star-maps; on another, Joe Carey and Tuvok had been able to
negotiate some passable replacement parts; on still others, Kes and Megan
Callahan had led some very successful foraging expeditions.
"I hope Chakotay and B'Elanna have had the same kind of success the rest of us
have," the captain commented to no one in particular, as they waited to
rendezvous with the shuttle.
"*I* just hope they haven't killed each other," Tom said.
Harry's warning "Tom!" came at the same time as Janeway's mildly chiding,
"Mister Paris."
"Oh, come on!" Tom riposted. "Don't tell me you didn't see the way the two of
them were talking to each other the whole week before you sent them out. I
couldn't believe you even sent them on the same mission."
Of course the captain had noticed. In fact, the tension between Chakotay and
B'Elanna had been one of the reasons why she'd teamed them: she'd hoped they'd
use the one-on-one time to work out their differences. (Much as Tom and Neelix
had managed to settle their differences on an away mission not so long ago.)
"The commander and Ms. Torres are professionals," she said lightly. "I'm sure
they found a way to come to terms."
"I'm sure they found a way to come to blows," he returned.
"Shuttle coming into communications range," Harry interjected. (Was that a
distinct echo of "saved by the bell" she heard in the young ensign's voice? No
matter.)
"Voyager to Sacajawea," she hailed.
"Sacajawea here -- B'Elanna, sit down!" The last few words were hissed. "And
cut that out." Then a visual materialized on the screen: Chakotay and Torres
side-by-side in the pilot's and co-pilot's seats, looking a little flushed but
otherwise not much the worse for wear. "Captain, it's good to see you again."
"Likewise, Commander. I take it your mission was a success?"
"It sure was," B'Elanna answered, smiling. Chakotay started, throwing B'Elanna
a quick but decidedly dirty look as B'Elanna's expression took on overtones of a smirk. "We got a lot of dilithium, too," she added, almost airily.
Janeway realized then that one of the Chief Engineer's hands was below the level of the pilot's console, out of sight. Surely she wasn't --? No, surely she
wasn't!
Then Chakotay twitched again, and the captain decided that she and the bridge
crew had seen enough. "Excellent," she said quickly. "I look forward to
hearing your report. Janeway out." She cut the connection.
"Well, well," said Paris cheerily. "I guess you were right, Captain. They sure
*do* look like they're getting along now." Behind her, Harry tried
unsuccessfully to stifle a snicker. "Bet that'll be an interesting report."
Janeway felt a smile taking shape on her own lips, though she struggled to keep
it out of her voice. "I'm sure it will be, Mister Paris. I'm sure it will be."
END
CHAPTER AUTHOR: Brenda Shaffer-Shiring
CODES: C/T AU
RATING: PG
DISCLAIMERS: Pick your favorite from any of the preceding chapters. ;-)
THANKS TO: Diane Bellomo, my wonderfully nitpicky beta (If I showed her this
note, she probably wouldn't let me say "nitpicky"...
SUMMARY: Some people don't know how to take "no" for an answer. Good thing.
