GENTLEMEN'S AGREEMENT

Title: Gentlemen's Agreement, 1/16 
Author: Jaye (Copyright April 2002) 
Codes: C/P NC-17

Disclaimer: Star Trek, Voyager and all related characters and
concepts  are the property of Paramount. No infringement is
intended or profit  made. This is NC-17 for m/m sex. If you
aren't interested (or aren't old  enough), don't read it.

Archive: Drop me a note first so I know where it's going. Please
keep  the text (especially the disclaimer) intact.

Feedback: Sure but be kind, or at least constructive. E-mail is 
reader8901@fastmail.fm

Summary: An alien royal makes Chakotay an offer he can't refuse.

Note: Slightly AU, P/T never happened and I don't know how canon 
Chakotay dresses off duty.

***************

PART ONE

/He's hopeless, absolutely hopeless,/ Kathryn Janeway thought as
she  watched her First Officer move along the edges of the
reception hall.  Even as she admired Chakotay's panther-like
grace, she gritted her teeth  at his attire.

The Captain had been filled with an unholy glee when she'd read
the "No  Uniforms, Please" addendum to the invitation from their
Rutali hosts.  It meant a new battlefield in the private little
war that had started  the day Chakotay signed on as Voyager's
First Officer.

As they'd worked together on Ocampa to find their missing
crewmates,  Janeway had taken time to check out her fellow
Captain's powerful body  encased in Maquis leather. When they
formally allied, she'd looked  forward to seeing Chakotay clad
in Starfleet's close-fitting red and black.  She was in for a
shock.

Though everything was within regulation, Janeway had been
immensely  disappointed to see that her new Commander had
altered the uniform specs.  Instead of the body-hugging numbers
she'd expected, he'd set the  replicator to reflect the loosest
tailoring available. While the outfit  wasn't actually baggy, it
was definitely *not* molding those delectable  muscles. Her eyes
had narrowed as she scrutinized the man.

Chakotay had noticed her careful examination, and while she was 
crafting a polite but unenthusiastic remark he'd fired the
opening salvo. His  expression completely blank, he'd calmly
stated, "I agreed to share the  bridge as your First Officer,
Captain, not another piece of eye candy."

A guilty, mortified blush had plastered her cheeks. She'd
breathed in  to deliver a blistering reply when Chakotay had
suddenly relaxed and  flashed those to-die-for dimples for the
first time. "Besides," he'd  drawled, "you already have a blond
and two brunets. Shouldn't a redhead be  next on your list?"
They'd chuckled together and a new command team was  born.

Since then they'd continued the game. Chakotay sported
loose-fitting  attire both on and off duty. Janeway tried to get
him into more  flattering garb (or out of it). After their
return from New Earth the unresolved  attraction between them
mellowed into friendship, but she still  considered it her duty
to give as many people as possible a glimpse of male 
perfection. Unfortunately, the wily ex-rebel had frustrated her
at every  turn.

The Rutali reception seemed a perfect opportunity. Chakotay, no
doubt,  had already prepared his disgustingly roomy formal
uniform. Janeway had  watched the Commander's reaction as she'd
outlined the newly delivered  dress code for the event. Chakotay
had caught her avid expression and  tossed back his serene Mona
Lisa smile. Now she knew why.

"Score another one for the Maquis," a laughing voice breathed in 
Janeway's ear as suit-jacketed arms wrapped around her silk-clad
waist. The  Captain turned to take in the rest of her lover's
outfit. Ken Dalby was  dressed in tailored black slacks and
button-down shirt with a burgundy  blazer, which nicely
complemented her own claret-colored sleeveless  sheath. "It's
nice to know at least one man will dress up for me," she  sighed
dramatically, stroking his lapels.

"I would rather undress for you, Kathryn," he said, eyes
twinkling. He  gave her a quick kiss, then spun her around. He
leaned down again to  whisper in her ear. "Besides, three out of
four isn't bad. Tuvok's robes  are clingy enough when he moves,
and Kim and Paris are wearing matching  tight jeans and 'Come
and get it' silk shirts." He caressed her bare  arms. "All this
male pulchritude, Kathryn, and you pout over Chakotay?  Maybe I
should be worried."

Janeway leaned back and looked into his grinning face. "I can
tell  you're shaking in your shoes." She let the back of her
hand run slowly over  Dalby's chest, then shifted to stand
directly in front of him. Sure her  action was hidden, she
casually swung her arm down and behind to  lightly cup his
linen-clad genitals. Her face didn't betray any reaction to  his
sudden gasp as she quietly purred, "There's only one package of 
'pulchritude' I'm interested in and you know it." She loosed her
grip and  swung around to search Ken's eyes. "You do know that,
right?"

Dalby smiled. "Yes, but I'm always glad to hear it." He caressed
her  cheek. "You're so beautiful, and you and Chakotay do have a
history."

She gave him a tender, lopsided smile. "Not a romantic one. But
I'll  always be grateful to him for bringing us together." She
laid her palm  against the hand on her face. "I just want him to
have someone special  too."

"And you think clothes will make the man...more appealing?" Ken
shook  his head with a rueful smile. "Well, you've definitely
lost this  skirmish. It's time to retreat."

"For now," Janeway admitted, and pulled her lover to the dance
floor to  show that this girl was crazy about a sharp-dressed
man.

*************

Tom Paris sipped his fruity drink and tried to shake the
suspicion he  was being stalked. He had to admit the Rutali made
it easy to feel like  prey. When they'd initially appeared on
Voyager's viewscreen, Tom  immediately recalled the first time
he'd seen "The Wizard of Oz." Their new  acquaintances bore a
marked resemblance to the Cowardly Lion.

The Rutali were tall, their skin covered with a short golden
plush. The  flat noses, slightly slanted eyes and sharply
bisected upper lips  reinforced the feline impression. And both
sexes were crowned with thick  tawny hair that framed their
faces like lions' manes.

Tom spun, trying to glimpse the pair of eyes he could feel
burning  holes in his back. He didn't spot anyone, but his
abrupt movement had  caught the First Officer's attention. A
quirked eyebrow relayed Chakotay's  silent query. The blond felt
himself blush slightly as he sheepishly  shrugged reassurance.
Chakotay shot him a puzzled look and moved on.

Tom realized the Captain had been thwarted yet again as he
watched the  Commander make his way to a quiet corner. The blond
absently considered  breaking Janeway's losing streak by clueing
her in on the legend of  Chakotay's Wash Day Leathers.

The body-hugging ensemble Chakotay had worn that first trip
aboard  Voyager had been a gift from Seska. Tom had disliked the
sneaky  then-Bajoran, but he gave the woman credit for
persuading her ex-lover to accept  the clingy clothes in a show
of team spirit. Of course, Chakotay had  rarely worn them. Since
he had other Maquis outfits, he only put on  Seska's when he had
absolutely nothing else in his closet. Once the Liberty's  crew
figured that out, Chakotay's refresher became the most
unreliable  piece of equipment on the ship.

/But it *was* a guaranteed morale-booster. Hell, half the people 
playing Tuvok's holodeck mutiny scenario that time were there
for another  chance to check out the Commander's goods./ Tom
grinned in memory.

/Damn!/ His good humor disappeared as he felt those eyes again.
He  reviewed his own revealing outfit and wondered if the Big
Man had the right  idea. Certainly no one would take Chakotay's
shapeless caftan and loose  pants as an invitation to stare. Add
in the muted colors and subtle  pattern, and the First Officer
was practically dressed in camouflage.

Tom had come to the party hoping to get lucky, but his secret
admirer  was giving him the creeps. Deciding to find some cover
of his own, Tom  went on his own hunt for Harry. There should be
some safety in numbers.

***********

/Excellent,/ thought the Rutali Regent, Nedal, as he stood on
the  balcony above the vaulted, chandeliered, white
marble-and-gilt reception  hall on a Rutali colony world. The
gold-haired human pilot had startled at  Nedal's scrutiny like a
goband at a water hole. Now he fled with the  cloven-hoofed
animal's airy grace to seek security among others of his  kind.
The Rutali royal idly stroked his jeweled seal of office and 
tracked the human with slitted golden eyes, homing in on his
prey's new  company. The shorter dark-haired human looked
younger than the blond, and  offered no more than an illusion of
protection. The Regent licked his  lips with a low growl as he
moved away from the railing, intending to set  in motion the
ritual to claim his newly chosen territory.

************

Chakotay deftly wove among crewmates and Rutali, keeping an eye
on the  drinks in his hands. He pondered Paris's odd jumpiness
and gave a  mental grin at the memory of Kathryn's earlier
horrified expression. She  really should know better by now.

He glanced down at his ankle-length buttoned tunic, which
practically  hid his matching pants. The desert-inspired outfit
was actually very  similar to Tuvok's attire. Only the Vulcan's
robes were crafted from the  traditional silk and his from
lightweight cotton. The loose folds  billowed slightly outward
when he walked instead of molding to his body like  Tuvok's did.

Voyager's First Officer offered an apologetic expression with
the drink  he handed to his waiting companion. "I'm sorry I took
so long, Milady.  There was quite an obstacle course."

"No problem at all, Commander. I was just sitting here enjoying
the  scenery." The elderly Rutali woman was curious what
Chakotay would say if  he knew *he* was the one she'd been
watching.

She'd seen many fine-faced males and females from Voyager, even
a few  wild young ones on the prowl. Out of all of the aliens
she'd met in the  last few days, this man was unique. A paradox.
Chakotay was the only  one among his kind who moved like her
people, with an alert air and  coiled power that spoke of a
fellow predator. And yet, he also exuded  gentleness and a
genuine aura of peace---qualities her people secretly craved 
yet despised as the ancient hallmarks of prey. The Rutali had
never  managed such a balance in their natures. It made the
handsome night-haired  human endlessly fascinating.

She laid a hand on his arm, feeling the muscles hidden under the
loose  cloth. "You are kind to have wasted your evening
entertaining an old  woman."

Chakotay shook his head. "I don't consider it a waste. You have
been a  most charming companion, Milady." As his eyes fell on
the  gold-and-crystal seal of office encircling her neck, he was
struck by a question.  "Is that term a name, or a title of some
kind?"

She gave an small smile. "After so many years, it has become
both. I  rejected the traditional form of address when I first
attained my  position."

She leaned forward with a serious expression. "And now a
question for  you: Are the reports true, you have wandered far
from your home and  hunting grounds?"

Chakotay nodded and sighed. "Almost forty years away. It was
originally  seventy, but we've had a few lucky breaks. Nothing
recently, though."

Milady tilted her head and regarded the human a moment. "Perhaps
your  luck will change." She gave another enigmatic smile, then
waved Chakotay  away. "Now I insist you mingle. I'm sure there
are many people still  awaiting a chance to meet you."

Chakotay chuckled, "Perhaps one or two. I'll bid you good night
then."  He rose, gallantly kissed her hand and melted into the
crowd.

Milady stared after him, then summoned a page with a flick of
her  wrist. "Get Nedal," she ordered the cub, then sat back to
finish her drink  and finalize her plans.

*****************

Sisryn drummed her fingers on the surface of her temporary desk.
She  was bored, and didn't think Nedal's imminent arrival would
alleviate her  ennui. Still, her duties as Chief Consul were
quite clearly outlined,  and she had never failed yet in her
service.

/If only Nedal weren't so damn *selfish*,/ she mentally growled. 
/There's more at stake here than his whims. Doesn't he realize
how much could  be riding on this?/

She started when one half of the set of massive wooden doors
flew open,  banging so hard against the wall the panel still had
enough momentum to  slam shut. The Regent was oblivious,
furiously stalking to and fro in  front of the desk. Sisryn rose
cautiously to greet him, taking care to  stay out of range.
Nedal's claws were retracting and emerging  spasmodically, a
clear sign that he was losing control.

"How *could* she," he roared, pausing a moment to glare at his
Consul.  "I made my choice. Then she summoned me like one of her
pages, stopped  me practically at your threshold."

Sisryn's voice was a respectful, soothing purr. "I don't
understand, my  liege. Do you speak of the human Captain? I
thought their acceptance of  Larat was assured."

"No, not her, but you're right---they're desperate enough. The
ritual  is practically guaranteed. However," Nedal snarled, "the
identity of the  Chosen is not. Milady has informed me---me, the
Regent!---that *she*  has decided who is to hear the offer." He
turned again, robes snapping in  his wake. "The pilot Tom Paris
looked a prime catch. But Milady has no  interest in *him.* Her
favor is bestowed upon the marked one---the  First Officer."

"Chakotay?" Sisryn's whole body snapped to attention. "And
Milady has  made the choice? That has not happened in
generations."

The eagerness in his minister's voice paused Nedal's pacing. His 
nostrils flared as he scented excitement---and perhaps something
else. The  Regent approached with a menacing gait, his voice a
low rumble. "I  sense...approval, Sisryn. Have you forgotten who
it is you serve? Tell me why  you so rejoice at my displeasure."
He used his height and bulk to loom  over her more slender form.

"I mean no disrespect, Regent," Sisryn quickly said, bowing her 
submission. "It is ever my duty to fulfill my liege's wishes."
She looked up  to meet Nedal's eyes. "But your position is only
as strong as others'  perception of you. Your predecessors
ignored that truth to their  destruction."

She moved behind her desk to reverently touch a book and box,
both  elaborately decorated. "You must remember the Larat serves
the Regent in  many ways. If you select a man or woman who is
much desired, the price of  Privilege increases and so does your
standing among the prides."

"Tom Paris will make me the envy of all," Nedal stated, chest
swelling  with pride.

"Only among those who wish to curry favor, my liege." Sisryn
knew she  took her life in her hands delivering the truth so
bluntly. "The court  feigns interest, knowing when they saw
Voyager's crew that there was  only one question: whether you
would want your blond hot or cold. The  pride leaders are set to
make their bids based on what they want from you,  *not* their
desire for Paris or the Voyager Borg."

Nedal sheathed his claws, absently noting Sisryn stopped her
anxious  fidgeting as he considered her words. He knew the
Regent's seal he wore  guaranteed him the Chief Consul's
loyalty. He also appreciated her fine  sense of the prevailing
political winds. His voice was merely curious  as he asked, "And
this...Chakotay, what do I gain if he becomes the  Larat?"

"Money and power in far greater measure. Paris---and the one
called  Seven, your other likely candidate---are beautiful, but
typical. They are,  in the end, mere prey." Sisryn's hands
lifted in a helpless gesture.  "Chakotay is different, though I
cannot explain why. I do know, however,  that if he accepts you
will be the envy of the prides and Privilege  will be bestowed
on *your* terms."

The Chief Consul moved closer, hoping the stubborn Regent had
calmed  enough to awaken his instinct for survival. "And that
Milady has  chosen...that is the stuff of legend. It could
ensure your reign, for no one  would dare seek to overthrow a
living legend."

Nedal lifted his chin, in charge once more. "So be it."

*****************

The Captain and Commander entered the Chief Consul's office,
curious as  to why they'd been summoned in the middle of a
party. Sisryn moved from  behind her desk, greeting the humans
and motioning them to the sofa and  chairs by a low table. As
they were seated, she asked, "Do you require  anything before we
begin? A beverage, perhaps?" The Rutali's air of  suppressed
excitement was at odds with her calm question.

"No, thank you. Your hospitality has already been most
generous."  Janeway took the lead. "Is there a problem with the
trade arrangements? I  don't understand why you asked to see the
Commander and myself."

Sisryn clasped her hands together to steady them, then looked at
the  duo waiting across from her. "My people have listened with
much interest  to your stories of travel. We sympathize with the
pain you must feel at  the separation from your kin and
homelands."

Chakotay spoke into her pause. "And you have a suggestion, maybe
a way  of lessening that separation?"

"Perhaps. Near the Rutali homeworld is a stable, but variable, 
wormhole. The entrance is fixed, but the exit changes depending
on  circumstances."

Janeway had moved to the edge of her seat. "Explain."

"For Rutali, the endpoint is always the same: a cluster of
colony  worlds five years' travel from here. For strangers, the
situation is  somewhat different."

Sisryn stood and circled her chair, carefully considering her
words.  "Permission to use the portal is rarely offered, and
comes at a price."  She paused. "How well outsiders meet that
price determines how far the  wormhole takes them. The distance
can be as short as one year's worth of  travel or as long as
fifteen."

"So your wormhole could deposit us 15 years closer to home?"
Janeway  could barely contain her excitement.

"Or barely a year," Chakotay reminded his captain. "Either way,
the  price is the same." He noted Sisryn's discomfort with
narrowed eyes. "Just  what will the trip cost us?"

Sisryn fled the weight of that measuring gaze, moving to her
desk to  retrieve the book and box resting upon it. She slowly
approached the  pair. "For this the Rutali do not accept goods
in trade, but service. One  member of the group petitioning for
the use of the wormhole is chosen.  He or she must pledge to
serve the Regent. That person becomes the  Larat, and wears the
seal of that office."

She sat and opened the carved box, lifting out a necklace
similar to  the other ministers' emblems, including her own. It
was a thick circlet  of metal the shade of antique gold, and a
clear crystal hung suspended  from it in a setting vaguely
reminiscent of claws. "Once Larat has been  accepted, the seal
is worn at all times. It will not open until the  term of
service is complete."

"How long is that?" the Captain asked, now more wary.

"That cannot be predetermined. It is never shorter than a week
or  longer than a month. When the time is right, the Larat's
necklace opens and  the Chosen is free to leave. You enter the
wormhole, and travel through  it in your desired direction. How
far, however, won't be known until  you exit. Also, after the
portal closes behind you it will not reopen, so  you only have
one chance."

"And if we say no now, we won't get another opportunity to
change our  minds." Sisryn's nod didn't lessen Chakotay's
tension; he wanted to know  what was making him so edgy. "What
exactly is the nature of this  office? How does the Larat
'serve' the Regent?"

Sisryn laid aside the necklace and picked up the book. She then
braved  a look into those intense brown eyes. "All the
responsibilities of the  Larat are outlined in this tome, which
has been passed down for  generations. After accepting Larat,
the Chosen is given time to review the  text and prepare.
Traditionally, there are also five services that can be  refused
without penalty. Not even the Regent can order an act performed 
that has been set aside under the seal."

The Rutali paused, then continued more slowly. "When I was
informed  that Larat would be offered to a member of Voyager's
crew, I investigated  your databases for an equivalent in your
culture. The closest term I  can find is courtesan."

"What? You expect one of us to become Regent Nedal's whore?"
Janeway  had fallen back in shock.

"No, not whore, courtesan." Sisryn was insistent. "Larat are
held in  high esteem and treated as such. And their duties
extend beyond the  bedroom, as they become the official
representatives for their group among  the Rutali. Their ability
to please the Regent is not limited to sex  alone, it is also
how well the Chosen can express his or her own culture  and
beliefs."

"Who is it that Nedal has selected for this 'honor'?" Chakotay's
sharp  gaze caught the guilty flick of the Chief Consul's eyes.
He hoped he  was wrong as he gasped, "Kathryn? But---"

Thinking of Ken, Kathryn also jumped in, "I'm already
involved---"

"You are in error. Captain, you are here as a courtesy, as
leader of  your people. Larat is being offered," she pointed at
Chakotay, "to  *him*."

The two Voyager officers stared at each other in stunned
silence.

****************

Chakotay found his voice first. "You're lying," he said flatly.

Sisryn was stunned. /Milady's perceptions are as clear as
always; he is  a man of rare insight./ "How---How did you know?"

Captain Janeway also sent a shocked, questioning glance his way. 
Chakotay spread his hands. "Nedal is not interested in me. Your
Regent has  barely been able to feign polite interest the two
times we met. He would  never select me as a bedmate." Chakotay
decided to play his hunch. "You  said Larat were held in high
esteem. That means politics are involved.  So, Consul, who's
really running the show?"

The Rutali's shoulders slumped in defeat. "You're right. Regents
can  rise or fall on the desirability of their Chosen. Nedal is
expected to  pick..." she hesitated, "...well, his preference
for blonds is well  known." She caught the quick speaking glance
between the officers. In that  split second they had probably
done a mental inventory of their  light-haired crew.

"But they wouldn't be as 'desirable' as me?" Chakotay gave a 
disbelieving laugh. "You must be kidding."

Sisryn was deadly serious now. "No, I'm not. Though I cannot put
the  reasons into words, you hold far more value to us than any
of your  shipmates." Now she was measuring *them* with her gaze.
"Nedal is the third  Regent I've served in my time as Consul,
and his choosing you could  secure his reign and bring us some
long-term stability." She waved her  hand. "Well, to be more
precise, his allowing Milady to choose you. That is  nearly
unheard of; she has distanced herself from these matters for 
decades."

Chakotay sighed and shifted topics. "Is Nedal married or bonded
in any  way?"

Sisryn gave him another long look; as far as she knew this man
was the  first Chosen to concern himself about such things. "No,
he has not  mated. His reign is still too new to single out a
pride by choosing a wife  from them."

"And you are sure we are...physically compatible?"

"Yes, we knew that before we granted shore leave. Your doctor
suspected  that certain members of your crew would indulge."

"Is there a ceremony involved with acceptance---"

"Chakotay! What do you think you're doing?" Janeway had just
snapped  out of her stunned fog.

He turned to meet Kathryn's eyes. "Getting us a ticket into that 
wormhole."

"But I can't expect you to---"

"Kathryn, please." Chakotay laid a reassuring hand on her arm.
"You  can't order me to do this, so I'm volunteering. You know
how depressed the  crew was before we met up with these people.
There hasn't been a big  jump in a long time; they're starting
to lose hope."

He searched her eyes. "Though I'm no longer *their* Captain, I
still am  one, and I want to get them home as badly as you do."
He flashed a  small, rueful smile. "You know it's what I have to
do, right? You would  have accepted Larat if you'd been chosen,
despite how much you love Ken."  He shrugged. "I have even less
reason to refuse."

The Captain warred with the Friend. As a friend she knew how
Chakotay  felt about casual sex and how much this could hurt
him; as a captain  needing to get her crew closer to home, she
acknowledged that there really  was no other choice. "If you're
sure," she said.

Sisryn rose and gestured for the others to do likewise. "There
is no  special ceremony. The moment you put on the necklace, the
office and  title are yours."

Chakotay took the proffered piece of metal. It felt strangely
warm as  he snapped the clasp closed. Both he and the Captain
were surprised to  see the link dissolve, leaving a solid
circlet.

Sisryn bowed to the new Larat. "You may display or cover the
seal as  you choose among your own people, but when Rutali are
present the circlet  must show." She handed him the ornately
bound book. "Place your hand on  the center design for a minute
before opening this, and the text will  alter to your language."
She led the way to the door. "It will take  about a week to
reach Ruta and the wormhole; use that time to prepare  however
you wish. Nedal will probably ignore you, for you do not begin
the  duties of Larat until we reach the homeworld."

As the trio moved into the hall, the music and laughter reminded
them  that the party still flourished. The realization seemed to
startle them  out of their isolation. Sisryn stopped them a
moment. "Why don't you  return to your ship? The news of your
acceptance will begin to circulate  among the prides, and I
think it would be better if you had a chance to  absorb this
before facing them."

Janeway and Chakotay nodded and watched as she left. "Thank you, 
Chakotay," Kathryn said simply, then tapped her badge and
ordered a beamout.

Chakotay took a moment to peek into the book. He was shocked at
the  graphic---no, pornographic---illustration. /Spirits!/ was
all he had time  to think before the transporter took him.

END PART ONE