Whispers & Echoes-Part 1

Disclaimer: All belongs to the Gods on the Mount--Paramount. I just get to play chess with them. All parts rated NC-17 to be safe.

Whispers & Echoes

by Lady Janus

Part 1: The Whisper of Dreams

Captain's personal log, Stardate 50561.3--God, I have to stop calling these Captain's logs, I'm not a starship captain anymore, I haven't been one for the past nine months and will never be one again. I have to accept that.

Chakotay didn't come home again last night and I've spent the last six hours just lying awake, watching the first snowfall and listening for the sounds that would indicate that he had come home to me, that he understood what we had to do.

Home.

It is the only dwelling, the only sign of sentient habitation on this entire planet. It's funny how after all my resistance to it, I've come to think of this place as home almost against my will. Much of that is his doing. I can't imagine what I would have done here alone and as I watch the bright splashes of colour paint the morning sky, I am selfishly glad I'm not here on this frozen planet alone. Except he is not here with me--not in my bed, making me feel warm and safe; not in his bed, making soft comforting snores or even just puttering around the house, his presence alone reminding me every moment that even under these circumstances, I am loved.

Three months ago, the night we became lovers, I vowed to myself that there would be nothing I would deny this man if it were in my power to give him, and two days ago, I broke that vow. There was no way he could have known that I'd made it, but I knew. I've never been a particularly religious person--as a scientist, I've never had any need or use for a God and I don't know that I believe that I need one now. But I find myself praying--in between bouts of crying, I find myself praying every moment that I have the strength to do what I must.

****

"Is that really an ancient legend?"

There was laughter in his voice and a twinkle in his eyes as he answered her. "No, but that made it easier to say."

Kathryn savoured the memory of that evening in her mind as she had on numerous occasions over the past month since that magical night when she had retired to her bed alone. She remembered with a chuckle the delicious feeling of her fingertips tingling at the touch of his hand as they sat for long moments with their fingers intertwined.

Kathryn dusted her hands free of the dirt and looked with satisfaction at the neat, weeded rows of Talaxian tomato seedlings as she reached for her cup of coffee. Suddenly the same tidal-wave of emotion she has been feeling in his presence lately washed over her, leaving her inundated with the knowledge that he loves her, and she knew that he was behind her even before he began to speak. She found herself accepting his help to stand, going inside, and as so many times in the past month, her mouth carried on the light-hearted conversation, while her brain is otherwise engaged.

She delighted in watching his mouth as he spoke and his eloquent gestures--the language of his finely toned body.

Suddenly she found herself tuning into what they were talking about--a boat. She looked down at the plans for the small craft and another wave of pleasure washed over her as it did with every thing he does to make her life easier, to help her accept their fate. They could explore the river, he told her.

Yes, they would explore and learn this new world together, this New Earth as they've called it. After a long drawn out moment of awkward silence, she realised her breathing had changed, that she was staring into his eyes--and for an awkward moment she was sure he could see the love there she hasn't the will to hide and the courage to tell him.

She watched the knowing grin tug at his lips as he resumed speaking. "As I was saying, we could explore the river further -get a better idea of the immediate vicinity without taxing the shuttle craft too much. I'd still like to continue the planetary surveys--track the weather systems, perhaps learn more about how those coherent plasma patterns form during the storms, but--"

"But the boat would be wonderful for a lazy Saturday afternoon ride--see where the river takes us," she finished softly, barely breathing.

Chakotay nodded as she bent to get a closer look at the plans. "I was thinking of calling her Voyager," he said and she turned to face him in surprise. "We needn't stop exploring Kathryn, even if it's not the stars."

She felt her heart tighten at the thought of her Voyager getting further and further away from her each day. As she looked into his concerned eyes, she smiled, thankful for his gift. "Thank you, and we can still explore the stars Chakotay--just new and different ones."

"You still think about them, don't you," he said taking her hand.

"Every day," she replied softly. "I dream of them each night. Sometimes, it's so real, that I wake up and reach for my uniform, thinking about the solution to that problem B'Elanna had with the plasma injectors yesterday--except it wasn't yesterday, it was over four months ago and--"

She met his eyes with a wry smile. "And I'm sure B'Elanna figured it out long ago, just as I'm sure Tuvok will get them home."

"I miss them too," he whispered as he drew her to him. After a few moments, they broke the awkward embrace and smiled at each other. "Well, why don't I go see about dinner," he murmured moving into the small kitchen area.

She followed him and pulled the small bowl of vegetables to her. "When are we going to be able to start building it?" she asked as she pulled out the chopping board. Within the first two weeks of being stranded, they had quickly determined that when it came to cooking, the safest thing was to have her chop vegetables, or basically do all the chores that had nothing to do with actually getting anywhere close to the stove.

"I was thinking of two days," he replied over his shoulder as he placed the green rice-like grain in the cooker. The replicator would only be used in times of emergency--it was far too precious a commodity for every day use. Therefore, in order to become more self-sufficient, they ate mostly what they could grow, gather or hunt, saving the replicator energy for emergency medicines, rations in the face of disaster, and essential nutrient supplements that couldn't be synthesised by the plants and animals native to this world.

"I've seen a few trees that I think would be great. We can go out and choose one or two tomorrow. It shouldn't take more than a week or two to put her together; after that it's just a matter of seeing where the current takes us." He chuckled softly as he took the vegetables from her. "It's getting back that's going to be the bitch, rowing against the current is hard work."

Kathryn gave him an impish smile as she stole one of the crunchy vegetable stalks before he could get it into the steamer. It was one of her favourites, a celery-like reed that tasted a little like spicy radishes, which she had discovered growing along the riverbank.

"Rowing? I thought that I saw a design for a grav-engine in the plans?" she retorted.

"Hey, you're the one who's always saying that we have to conserve our energy sources," he replied, taking a devilish delight in her surprise that he would turn one of her own arguments against her. "It's going to be man power--or woman power--all the way, except for emergencies."

"Darn," she pouted in mock dismay. "And here I was thinking that we would go for leisurely cruises."

"Uh-uh," he grinned. "You Captain, are going to have to work for your pleasure--"

Kathryn couldn't help but giggle as the realisation of how his words sounded dawned on him, heating his face beneath his deep tan. She met his embarrassed eyes and decided to turn up the heat just a notch; she lived for these little flirtatious encounters.

"Oh I am, am I Commander Chakotay?" she purred softly with the stalk of celery-reed resting lightly against her cheek. "Well, we'll just have to see about that, won't we," she continued as she walked away munching on the vegetable. She knew instinctively that he wouldn't take his eyes off her and she found herself putting a little extra sway into her walk as she made her way outside.

****

"My, but you are a curious little beastie, aren't you?" Chakotay heard her laughing voice calling clearly as he approached the swimming area. He stopped just before the bushes gave way to the natural clearing and watched her a little further downstream, lazily paddling to keep herself roughly in line with the tree branch which supported the object of her one-sided conversation. The little monkey-like primate lay along the branch chattering to her intently.

"Is that so?" she answered after a moment. "Yes, I can see where that might be a problem for you. After all, I can't keep calling you "Hey you" and I have to have a name to distinguish you from all the other primates on this planet," she laughed as she pulled herself up onto the grassy bank and reached for her towel. "How about George?" she asked as the little creature sat up and looked down at her. "Would you like that? Curious George." Chakotay found himself admiring the delicious curves her black one-piece swimsuit did little to hide from the imagination. Its high cut accentuated her shapely legs and slender lines as she held up a hand to the little primate. "Now all we need is for the Man in the Yellow Hat to come along."

Chakotay chuckled to himself, drew his handkerchief out of his pocket and tied it around his head. "Would a Man in a Red Bandanna do?" he quipped as she turned in surprise.

After a moment, she seemed to catch her train of thought and answered him, "I'm afraid I'm not the one you'd have to ask about that--ask Curious George here."

"Curious George?" he asked, pulling his shirt off over his head. A smile tugged at his lips as he caught her staring at his broad, hairless chest before she brought her towel up to run through her hair.

"Yes," she answered, vigorously drying the auburn locks made darker by the water. "It's from an ancient children's book about a little monkey who lived with a man with a yellow hat and was always getting into trouble because of his curiosity."

He grinned up at the animal now clinging to the branch above his head. "Well Curious George, will I do?" he asked. The primate chittered a string of expletives and swung itself up into the canopy with lightening speed. "I guess that's a no," he laughed as he kicked off his shoes.

"He'll come around," she assured him as she spread the blanket and pulled the refrigerated picnic hamper to her. She opened it and removed a bottle of juice as he took off his slacks. "Would you like to take a swim before we eat?" she asked holding out a glass of juice to him.

Chakotay looked down into the crystal water flowing past. He felt hot and sticky in the summer heat, and he got the feeling that she needed a little time to compose herself. He smiled at her as he accepted the beverage. "I think I'll take a quick dip just to cool off," he replied, downing the drink and quickly slipping into the river before he responded to the spark that leapt into her eyes at his words.

The water was indeed cool, but if anything, it heightened his awareness of her watching him from the bank. He chuckled softly to himself before diving beneath the surface. Everything they said to each other these days seemed loaded with innuendoes and double-entendres--even the smallest comments. He didn't want to rush her, but since she had finally began really noticing he was a man and she was definitely a woman, it was taking all his self-discipline to keep his hands off her. Three days before, watching her hips sway seductively as she left the kitchen after their small battle of words, it was all he could do to keep from running after her and pulling that tormenting little body to his so that she could feel the evidence of her slow torture.

As he made his way back against the current with a series of powerful strokes, he glimpsed her kneeling with her back to him as she unpacked their meal and wondered again whatever possessed him to suggest this picnic that morning. But he knew exactly what had possessed him--just that sight, Kathryn in her bathing suit.

Adolescent, but effective--maybe too effective. It conjured up memories of the first time he'd seen her in nothing more than a simple towel, made more erotic by the fact that she seemed unaware of her nudity as she took a childish delight in the discovery of the monkey. As the animal had disappeared into the night, her mind still focused on finding a cure for their disease, she suddenly became conscious of her situation and it was the first indication he had that she was seeing more than just the Commander in front of her. Now after four months alone together, he could see her actively beginning to consider the possibilities--possibilities he had been ready for a long time before even setting foot on this deserted world.

She laughed as he joined her on the bank, vigorously shaking the water from his hair, now a few centimetres longer than he had kept it on Voyager. "Stop," she ordered backing away from him as he advanced. "You're as bad as Bear."

"Bear?" he asked curiously as he dried off.

"My dog," she replied still laughing as he sat down beside her. "She always made sure I got a thorough soaking after giving her a bath."

He smiled at her thoughtfully as she handed him a bowl of salad. She hadn't talked much about her family and those she'd left behind on Earth, and he realised that it had been a long time since he had seen the picture of her with the smiling man who watched her lovingly as she held the large, huggable Irish setter between them. In fact, she had removed it from her ready room some months before they had been stranded and he wondered now at the significance of that.

"You miss her, don't you," he said in a low voice as he accepted a sandwich.

There was a fondness in her voice as she spoke, "Yes. I remember the last time I saw her, just before I headed out to rendezvous with the rest of my crew at DS9." She laughed ruefully and shook her head, "I couldn't figure out why all of a sudden she was so lethargic and had gained so much weight. It turned out she was pregnant--talk about being oblivious." Chakotay chuckled softly as she continued laughing. "Mark had a field day teasing me about it--"

She broke of suddenly and looked out over the river. Mark. The comfortable, laughing man in the picture. The brilliance of her smile was dimmed by the sorrow in her eyes as she continued in a soft voice, "He promised to take care of Bear and her puppies--sometimes I wonder how many there were." She turned up the wattage on that smile in an effort to shake off the nostalgia and the grief. "Anyway, I've always had a dog--and even when I didn't, there was always my sister Phoebe's menagerie."

"Were they all Irish setters?" he asked casting about for something neutral to say. He saw the surprise in her eyes as she realised that he must have done more than just notice the picture in her ready room.

"Lord no," she answered grinning. "Bramble would not be caught dead with Bear's exalted pedigree," she laughed merrily. "I don't remember getting my first dog--Mr. Tuggles," she said leaning back on one elbow. "He was always just there, then one day when I was six, he wasn't there anymore. I remember my parents telling me that he'd died and me crying, but not much else about it--he'd always been this gigantic ball of fur, at least from my perspective. I think he'd been a St. Bernard, but to tell you the truth, I'm not sure. Then there was Bramble, a wonderful, wiry little hairball, that never reached any farther than my knees standing on his hind paws, but was always there to lick away the tears. He was a thorough mutt and quite proud of it too."

Chakotay joined in her merriment and admired her ability to pull him into her little anecdotes. "He died just before I left for the Academy--he was nearly twelve years old and I remember wondering whom I would find with enough fur to soak up my troubles. Then for the next few years, I was basically dogless, I guess Phoebe's Blanca served double duty whenever I was home, but it wasn't the same. She wasn't bad as far as substitutes go, but she was one of those slow, languid Samoyas and I guess I liked my dogs with a bit more attitude."

She laughed wryly again. "Now if you want to talk about a dog with attitude, then Petunia was the one you should have met. She found me one cold winter day when I wasn't sure that life was worth living and basically took me in hand--helped me get through a particularly bad time in my life." He heard the sorrow in her voice again, and watched the fleeting shadow pass across her face. "Phoebe used to say she couldn't tell who was the pet and who was the mistress. She used to complain that Petunia was the worst trained dog in the known universe, and she was right. I'd tell Petunia to do something and she'd fix me with that autocratic stare of hers and order me to do whatever it was she wanted to."

Chakotay laughed heartily as the image of the insubordinate pup defying her sprang into his mind. "Petunia sounds like a certain starship Captain I know." Kathryn joined his laughter as he continued to look into her eyes. "What breed of dog was she?"

"You're right," she replied giggling, pointing her fork at him. "Don't laugh, mister, you'd be surprised at the wisdom one can learn from a dog. Anyway, she was a black Lab--always there to take me in hand, tell me what's what and then kick me out on my keister when she had more important matters to attend to. When she died--goodness, almost seven years ago, just after I made Captain, I remember sitting in my quarters one night just bawling over my Mother's communique. My ship left the next morning for my first deep space mission and what pulled me together was the thought that Petunia would certainly have taken issue with the way I was carrying on. When I returned six months later, two wonderful beings entered my life--an annoying, unyielding, insufferable, implacable Vulcan I couldn't stand, and the most gorgeous ball of ginger fur imaginable."

"Wait a minute," Chakotay sputtered incredulously. "You couldn't stand Tuvok?"

"Not a whit," she answered with a grin. "The first time we met, he took issue with almost everything I'd done during the mission, routed out every possible tactical mistake under the sun. Who could live up to that standard of Vulcan perfection? Nowadays, he'll tell you that I'm only marginally better. I suppose that's why he felt it his duty to stick with this lowly, fallible human, and I'm glad he did. But during those first weeks when he transferred to my command, there were times that I wanted to throw him in the brig just for being alive and for being Vulcan!" Chakotay howled hysterically at her indignation as she continued. "I mean, I'm a reasonably neat and tidy person--"

"Are you kidding Kathryn?" Chakotay interrupted still chuckling. "Except when you're cooking, you're the biggest neat-freak I know."

"Am I a neat-freak?" she asked in concern, suddenly serious.

He grinned and nodded at her as he answered, "In comparison to me you are. You've seen what a few months of lax discipline has done to me." She chuckled as she thought of his sleeping alcove; every few days he'd clean it up, but it always looked like a plasma storm had passed through it within forty-eight hours. "It was one of the hardest things I had to contend with at the Academy--those damned surprise inspections. I finally had to just train myself into the habit of being neat, but with the Marquis, it was a habit I soon fell out of. Luckily, I beamed on board Voyager with nothing more than the shirt on my back and my medicine bundle, which Bandera was thoughtful enough to save for me. Once back in uniform, it was easy to train myself back into that routine since I didn't have a lot of belongings to throw about the place at the beginning. But, as you can see, being neat isn't something that comes naturally to me."

"No it certainly isn't," she agreed laughing.

"It's funny how the smallest, most inconsequential thing can trip you up," he mused. "When I entered the Academy, I was certain that I was ready for all the big challenges they would set me--ready to prove myself to my father, my family, my people. I never expected anything so small and petty as tidying up my room to nearly put me on the probation list my first year as a cadet."

"I know what you mean," she laughed. "I had the exact opposite problem--I guess I am a bit of a control nut, which is why I suppose the powers that be at the Academy saddled me with a pair of identical Diasoman twins named ThrumPol for roommates in my freshman year."

"You ended up with two roommates?" he asked in surprise.

"Yes," she chuckled softly. "They were Diasoman twins, not ready yet to be separated from each other--enthusiastic, full of life and energy . . . and messy! We also almost ended up on the probation list when Pol and I failed our second surprise inspection. Our Cadet Group Commander was Commander Etienne Mallet, and he assigned Pol and I a simulation puzzle to figure out. If we didn't solve the puzzle, it would have severe repercussions on our future as Starfleet cadets. Needless to say, since it was a scientific puzzle, I basically took over and shut poor Pol out until almost the very end when we began to get desperate. I was content to figure it out all by myself, and Pol was content to coast along with what ever I told her to do. It took me a long time to realise that the point to the exercise was to test those particular personality quirks. It was to see if I could give up enough control and trust someone else to do their part, because there was no way I could do it alone. And it tested whether Pol could become assertive enough in the face of my personality, to stand her ground instead of always doing what other people told her to do."

"Overcoming our small failings is always the hardest thing to do precisely because they are so small--we don't treat them with enough importance," he said quietly. After a moment he grinned, "So what did you do about your insufferable Vulcan? How on Earth did you make him your friend?"

"I've never been quite sure how our relationship evolved into friendship," she replied in a nostalgic voice. "It just did I suppose, once I stopped thinking of him as "that insufferable Vulcan". The first thing I did do however, was start putting up my hair--"

"Oh no, the Iron Bun! You mean I have Tuvok to thank for that?" he groaned comically. "You know, Paris used to take bets on how many strands would escape it during the next fire fight."

She eyed him speculatively and then laughed. "That was always one of the things I always felt was most untidy about myself, and if I was going to insist on wearing my hair long, I had to find a style that was both dignified and easy to take care of. Looking like the Madwoman of Challot was definitely easy to take care of, but hardly dignified. And by the way, Mister--" she said in outrage. "When was Paris ever close enough to see how many strands escaped my bun?"

He held his hands up before his face as he laughed. "Ok, guilty as charged Ma'am," he said giving her a devilish grin. "After all, he had to have an impartial observer to ensure he ran an honest game and didn't try fleecing some poor unsuspecting ensign. He used to categorise the severity of the fight by just how much hair had come loose. The categories were "a light summer sprinkle"--just a few wisps came free, generally less than twenty strands, blue skies, clear sailing. The next was "a cool summer shower"--enough to get thoroughly wet, maybe with a little lightning and thunder, a small forelock may have got loose, but nothing to be worried about."

Chakotay could see her obvious delight as he catalogued the vagaries of her hair during battle. "Then we have the "full blown thunderstorm". Lots of lightning, thunder, the whole she-bang, when entire sections had fallen out of the bun. It generally meant that Voyager had taken quite a few blows and they were easy to categorise--there was always a consensus on them as there was little quibbling on how many strands it took to make a lock-- Awww!" he yelped peevishly as she punched him playfully in the arm.

"Hey, I didn't make up the categories, I just reported what I saw. Finally, we have the big one--the "hurricane"--utter decimation of the Iron Bun. That we didn't see too often because it generally meant that we'd just squeaked past with little more than avoiding a warp core breach, but it also meant no quibbling because it took you longer to put it up and there were more witnesses to the complete devastation." He watched her laugh and didn't add that those times, despite the danger, were his personal favourites or that at that moment, with her sun-dried hair blowing in the afternoon breeze, the devastation was once again complete.

"I can see that my crew needed more to occupy their time if my hair was such a hot item for discussion," she gasped in outrage. Then she gasped again, but this time, pain swiftly replaced her hilarity as her face clouded and she looked away.

"Kathryn," he said softly in concern as he tentatively touched her shoulder. He felt a shudder pass through her as she drew her knees up beneath her chin and hugged them to her. "What is it Kathryn?"

She covered the hand at her shoulder briefly and gave it a gentle squeeze, but she didn't look at him. "I'll be all right Chakotay, don't worry," she whispered hoarsely. "It's just--it's just that I feel like I've failed them, I promised to get them home and I didn't." He felt her shoulder shake beneath his touch as she cried softly and heard the quiver in her voice. "Just now, I said "my crew" and I realised they weren't my crew any longer--they're Tuvok's crew now. They were my responsibility and I failed them."

Chakotay took a chance and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her shaking body. After stiffening for a moment, she slowly relaxed as if she'd made up her mind and laid her head on his shoulder as she wept. "You didn't fail them Kathryn," he said stroking her slightly damp hair as he held her. "You took them as far as you could, then you did what was best for them; you entrusted them to Tuvok's care when you were no longer able to go on. No one could have foreseen this Kathryn, it wasn't your fault--no one is to blame."

****

"Look Captain, what do you expect me to say?" Kathryn studied his tortured face in the dim light of the dying campfire. After a pause, he continued angrily, "I know all your arguments, sir, but I've got to do what I must! I have to go home!"

As Kathryn pushed out of her sleeping bag in concern, his next words froze her in her path--mainly because of the sheer venom with which they were spoken.

"That one colony may not mean much in the big picture--but that one colony was the reason I joined Starfleet in the first damned place! And if the Almighty Federation is not going to protect her, what the hell am I doing here then? My Mother called me today; my Father is dead. As his only son, sir, there are certain things I must do and if I have to resign my commission to accomplish them, then so be it, but one way or another I am going home!"

She collected herself as his anguished sobs reached her and moved quickly to his side. "Chakotay," she called softly as she gently shook him. "Chakotay, wake up, you're having a dream."

"No!" The long drawn out syllable was an agony to hear as his wild eyes looked up into hers in the darkness. "Kathryn?" he called in confusion. He touched his wet cheek and broke eye contact in embarrassment as he suddenly registered her closeness and his surroundings.

Kathryn hastened to put him at his ease. "You were having a dream Chakotay," she said moving away to give him a chance to compose himself. She stoked the fire in silence and fetched another log before putting the pot of water on to boil. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked turning to face him. "You spoke a little in your sleep--"

She could see the surprise in his eyes as the embarrassment returned and decided he that had a right to know--that he needed to know what he had unconsciously said. "You were telling your former Captain that you had to go home--that your Father had died and that you had to defend your home since the Federation wouldn't."

"I see," he said softly as he sat up.

The moment drew out beyond awkwardness and unsure of whether she should press him, she busied herself as the water began to boil. "Would you like some hot tea?"

"Yes. Thank you," he answered hoarsely. "Sorry to wake you," he continued after a moment.

She chuckled as she brewed the herbal concoction he'd blended a few months before. "Hey, who's the resident insomniac around here?" she chided meeting his eyes. "As I remember it, I've kept you awake on more than one occasion with my nocturnal ramblings." He flashed her a wan smile as he accepted the steaming cup. "If you ever just need to talk Chakotay, I'm always here," she said softly holding his gaze.

"Thanks Kathryn," he replied. After a few moments of sipping their tea in silence, he said, "The anniversary of my Father's death is in a week."

She looked at him, stunned by his admission. "I'm sorry Chakotay," she said sincerely, angry with herself for not realising it sooner.

"I'm all right; it's been four years," he continued. "I guess realised it today while I was showing you that nest of blue speckled eggs. I remember my Father showing me a nest of peak-eagle eggs once during a hiking trip when I was seven. Of course they weren't eagles, those are Earth birds and these were closer to flying mammals than to birds, rather like the duck-billed platypus. But they were majestic creatures," he finished quietly.

"They sound wonderful," she returned. "I wonder what the ones we found today will hatch into."

"I don't know. Perhaps those ubiquitous sparrow-like things that are always around--they seem a little small for any of the larger predatory birds around here."

Kathryn studied his face again in the firelight and could still see the shadows of his nightmare in his eyes. Again she hesitated to press him further. She emptied the dregs from her cup and stood. "Well, perhaps we should try and get back to sleep. Good night Chakotay--"

As she headed back to her sleeping bag, he caught her hand and she looked down into his eyes again. "A few years ago, if anyone had asked me why I was so angry, I would have told them that it was because the Federation had abandoned my people. It would have been true, but it would not have been the entire truth Kathryn. I was angry because he died and I wasn't there--he was too old to be running around trying to defend the colony, he'd never been trained for it. But I'd been, only I never returned; out among the stars was where I'd always wanted to be and I didn't want to give it up. He died alone--chances are he never even knew what hit him, he never even saw the enemy. They found him two days later when the Marquis reinforcements arrived and took back the orbital stronghold. They brought his body back to my Mother--he was dead and there was so much I never told him, so much I would never be able to tell him.

"I'd put my trust, all my faith in the Federation when I left home, and I was so sure that it had been right to. Then at the moment my Mother's words registered, it seemed like the foundation of everything I'd ever done in my entire adult life to that point had been completely wrong. It seemed as if I had abandoned my family, my people and my Father--and that so many people I'd known, grown up with and loved all my life had paid the price. I guess there was just so much anger and hatred inside, that leaving Starfleet and joining the Marquis seemed like my only choice."

She knelt beside him and hugged him tightly, feeling the tension flow out of him. "I understand Chakotay," she whispered softly. "I understand. Thank you for telling me."

****

"Come on Kathryn," he yelled enthusiastically. "Pull!"

She groaned as her muscles ached, and gritted her teeth as she pulled on the oars. "There has got to be an easier way Chakotay!" she puffed.

He laughed at her red face as she strained against the current and she childishly stuck her tongue out at him. "Hey, I've done my part Kathryn, and I seem to remember you laughing a while back. Anyway, we're almost at the landing and it's wonderful exercise--you'll thank me later for insisting."

"Yeah?" she retorted. "Well right now, my muscles are cursing you damn it!"

"You're doing just fine," he replied good-naturedly. "Just a couple more strokes and we'll be ashore." A few minutes later, she felt the little craft butt against the bank and she stopped exhausted as he jumped out. She slumped over her oars as he pushed the boat up over the crude berth of logs he'd constructed and tied it off to a large sturdy tree. "Here, let me help you out Kathryn," he said lifting her out and setting her on her feet. She leaned tiredly against the boat as he reached in for their gear. "Why don't you go on ahead," he continued softly. "You've earned it--you did great today. I'll be along with this stuff in a few minutes."

Kathryn looked up into his eyes gratefully and nodded, then on impulse, stepped into his arms and hugged him tenderly. "Thank you," she said, burrowing her head into his chest as his arms closed about her. "She's a great little ship, worthy of her name. I had a wonderful time--even this last little bit," she chuckled softly.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," he replied as they broke the embrace. "Go on now. I want to see if I caught anything in the fish trap over the last two days."

"I'll see you in a few minutes," she called as she dragged herself up the path to the house. She smiled to herself as the yard came into view and if she hadn't been so tired she would have run to her tub and kissed it. She ran her hands over its satin smooth surface after removing its cover, scattering the leaves that had collected on it. This was what her aching body had been craving during that gruelling row back.

The sound of the water rushing into the tub was almost as much of a balm as the soak she was looking forward to, she thought as she poured a generous amount of peach scented bubble bath underneath the faucet and watched the white foam appear. Inside the little house, everything was exactly as they had left it. She hurried into her bedroom pulling off her sweaty clothing as she crossed the threshold and throwing everything onto the floor. Wrapping herself in her robe and collecting her towel, she quickly returned to the tub and tested the water with her hand--it was excruciatingly hot, just the way she liked it.

She deftly wrapped her hair into a loose bun and stuck in the hairpins she kept on the side of the tub's platform for just that purpose. She then removed her robe and threw it on to the low over-hanging branch with the towel before climbing the platform and lowering herself into the steaming water with a satisfied moan. She could feel the heat penetrate every square inch of her body and could swear that she felt each individual muscle as it soaked up the warmth and relaxed a little. She groaned softly, only one more thing would make it complete, but she was loathed to move from that position. Slowly she pulled herself upright and reached over the edge for her small wash cloth, which she soaked in the hot water, then placed over her face before sinking again with another moan beneath the luxurious scented foam.

****

He shivered as her soft moan carried on the wind reached his ears as she lowered her body into the steaming tub in the waning afternoon light. He had known all afternoon that this had been her goal as she gamely rowed her portion of the distance back and had thought that his delay with the fish trap would afford him enough time for her to be safely in the tub before he had to pass. Gods--no matter what his conscience was telling him at the moment about the morality of watching her even at this distance, he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Another moan reached his ears as he finally uprooted himself from that spot and took another step forward. He froze instantly and watched her reach out of the tub to fish for something lying on the platform--her wash cloth--which she draped over her face before slipping back into the water with another excruciating moan. If she only knew what something as simple as her moans, or the soft sighs she made at night when she was sleeping did to him. After a few moments, when he was sure that she wouldn't move again, he shook himself out of his fugue state and collected his wits before continuing up the path to the house. As he approached, she removed the cloth from her face and smiled at him.

"Enjoying your soak?" he asked as he dropped most of his bundles.

Kathyrn laughed at his non sequitur as she answered. "Immensely," she drawled in a languorous voice and he wondered if that sexy tone was just a figment of his overheated imagination. "Did you catch anything?" she asked as she sat up a little straighter and rested her arms along the rim of the tub. It didn't escape his notice that this action caused her breasts to ride up a little over the surface of the water before they were modestly covered by those darned little bubbles.

He held the three large fish up, two in one hand and a large green one in the other as he recovered his voice. "Tonight we eat like kings Kathryn," he quipped. "Only these three fine fellows were in the trap--either the smaller ones were too smart to get trapped, smart enough to navigate their way out, too small for the mesh I used, or too dumb to get away from these greedy guys. Anyway, I'm going to clean them before I take my shower; dinner should be ready in about ninety minutes."

"I'll be in to help you in a few minutes," she said softly.

"No rush Kathryn," he assured her as he removed his shirt. "I'll just leave the fish to marinade in my special blend of sauces and spices while I take my shower. The only one I'm not sure of is this big, green beast here. I'll finish running a thorough tricorder analysis before I clean him."

She nodded and he turned towards the house carrying his prizes. "Chakotay," she called and he half turned to meet her eyes. "Thanks again for a wonderful week-end. It was the best camping trip I've ever been on."

"You're welcome Kathryn," he replied, unable to stop the wide grin that spread over his features and ducked into the house before he could further embarrass himself. It had been one of the best camping trips he'd ever been on also and he could attribute it almost wholly to her presence. She had even been able to turn waking from that nightmare into a positive experience for him and more and more each day she brought him peace in a dozen little ways without even being aware that she did.

He brought his attention back to the tricorder readings on the green fish--darn, just as he'd suspected--it was no good he realised and dropped it into the yellow specimen bucket next to the sink. A small gland had ruptured and the poison had spread to most of the muscle tissue. He'd have to see what Kathryn's biochemical analysis made of the substance. He washed his hands thoroughly and double checked the other two flat, smooth, black fish just to make sure they were what he thought and that they hadn't been contaminated by the green beast. As he began to cut away the tough outer skin to get at the succulent flesh beneath, he heard her come in behind him.

"You should go and take your shower Chakotay," she said softly. "Relax for a little while before you worry about dinner."

He smiled down at her fondly as she crouched by the pail, tricorder in hand. Her hair was damp and she exuded the slight perfume of the peach bubble bath and the wonderful herbal shampoo she liked to use. "I'm almost finished with these two, just give me a few more minutes to get them filleted and into the marinade," he replied, feeling a wave of desire wash over him.

She nodded absently as she became caught up in the readings from the fish. "So Mr. Green Beastie, you're not fit for human consumption," she muttered. He didn't answer her as he finished filleting the first fish, familiar by now with her habit of talking aloud while her mind raced through a scientific problem. "Interesting," she said after a few more minutes of silence. "There are two compounds here I haven't seen before. I'm going to freeze Mr. Beastie here and take some samples in the morning. Perhaps in a few days we can see about capturing a live specimen--see exactly what they're being used for.

He watched her scoop the fish into a sample bag, seal it and pop it into a large empty, cryo-freeze unit before re-fitting the unit back into place in her specimen storage chamber. She would then spend the next day taking various tissue samples and subjecting them to a battery of tests. She then put the pail into through the sterilising unit before returning it to its customary place by the sink and drifting out of the kitchen area into her bedroom. He smiled to himself as he added the last of the spices to the marinating fillets--she was getting better. Two months before, she would have begun obsessively testing the fish as soon as she had found those compounds and insisted that they go out and set the trap then and there to capture another one, but she was finally learning to take things in stride. Tomorrow was soon enough to begin learning all there was to know about that fish and she had more than enough time in which to accomplish that task.

****

Kathryn turned gingerly in her bed again for the billionth time as she tried to find a position that would accommodate her aching body. The evening had been perfect--his dinner superb--but it seemed to her now that there were special lumps in her Starfleet issue, ultra-ergonomic mattress made just to torture her poor, abused flesh. Another painful whimper escaped her before she could stop it, as she discovered that her right calf had cramped into a tight ball. She held her breath and listened as she tried to sit up and massage the offending leg.

"Kathryn, are you all right?" His voice came from just beyond her door.

She sighed softly and tried to keep the pain from her voice. "Sorry to wake you Chakotay," she answered, then winced as she received another excruciating pain signal from her leg.

"Wake me?" he laughed. "Who could sleep with all the racket you're making, moaning and groaning."

"Well it's all your fault for insisting on rowing--and now I've got a cramp in my leg," she complained peevishly and thought egads, did she ever sound like such a whiner.

His laughter rumbled again. "For goodness sake Kathryn, why didn't you say something earlier? Let me get some massage oil to relieve some of those aches."

"All right," she acquiesced meekly, but she knew exactly why she hadn't asked him. She looked down in dismay at the short, silk slip she had worn to bed in an effort to keep cool. The last time he had given her a massage, she had been wearing one of those comfortable robes Tuvok had given her years ago for her birthday, and she'd still felt like melting into his arms. But she was in way too much pain to even think of trying to change with him just on the other side of the door.

He knocked softly. "Can I come in?"

"Sure."

She saw the delighted surprise that sprang into his eyes as he took in her attire in the dim light. Nor was he anything less than a feast for the eyes clad in nothing more than a brief pair of shorts that seemed to accentuate every muscle in his magnificent--she swallowed the hard lump in her throat. His legs, she mentally chastised herself, he had magnificent legs.

The long awkward silence dragged on as they stared at each other and she began to feel vaguely like a ridiculous schoolgirl. The Captain decided to take over.

"Well what would you like me to do first?" she asked bluntly, and even in that light she could see him blush to his roots. Way to go Captain, Kathryn spat, open big mouth, insert enormous hoof. Go back to sleep, she ordered as she decided that humour was the best way out of this embarrassing situation as his mouth shut with a snap.

"Ah New Earth to Chakotay, calling Chakotay," she teased in a light-hearted voice she prayed didn't sound as desperate as she felt. "The massage Chakotay?"

He seemed to snap out of it, grinning sheepishly as she gave a mental sigh of relief. "Uh, why don't you lie on your stomach," he instructed her. "And I'll start with your shoulders and upper back, then work my way down--"

She grinned as he became flustered again, and despite her pain, she was beginning to take a rather perverse pleasure in being the source of his obvious discomfort.

"To your legs," he added belatedly as she lay down. "Then I'll work on your legs," he corrected himself. She didn't know what little imp made her perform that little wriggle with her hips as she did so, but she was rewarded with another audible gasp from him. She felt the slip ride up a centimetre or two and she peered up to see his hands frozen above her in the act of rubbing the massage oil between them.

However, he had his own power over her and she knew that he was well aware of it as he began the massage. At his first touch she melted, knowing that his body was just inches above hers as he expertly manipulated her flesh. Against her will, he soon wrung a series of long, drawn out sighs of contentment from her as he kneaded the tension out of her neck, shoulders and arms--and good Lord he still had the rest of her body to go!

If she had won the opening skirmishes, by the time he gently pulled her arms out of the spaghetti straps to afford himself better access to her upper back, she was definitely ready to admit that he was well on his way to winning the war. Muscle after muscle betrayed her to his hands. Soon she was acutely aware that whatever physical tension he'd liberated from her aching muscles, seemed to concentrate in another part of her anatomy, leaving her powerless to move away from those healing hands. Yet she knew that every moment he remained brought her closer and closer to the edge of that particular release of tension she definitely would not be able to conceal from him.

"Which leg is it Kathryn?" he asked in a low, breathy voice.

Her mind screamed at her. Humour huh, the Captain mocked. Well, let's see you get out of this one Kathryn.

God, he was ready to start on her legs, and she found herself speculating wildly whether he would start at the top and work his way down, or if he would start at the bottom and work his way up. Each presented her with a tantalising prospect as she squeaked, "The right."

As he took hold of her right foot and started massaging the sole, she forgot about her primary mission of extricating herself from the situation with her dignity intact as she luxuriated in every delicious sensation that coursed through her body from each foot. She heard a low chuckle escape him as she buried her head in her arms and tried to stifle the moan that built in her, only to have it end up sounding like an agonised wail--and the handsome devil would have the nerve to laugh at her. She barely registered the manipulation of her calves--first one then the other. All she could focus on was the inevitable movement of those hands upwards to the tops of her thighs and she found herself fantasising about exactly where they would stop their torturous journey.

"Kathryn, you're beginning to tense up again." His voice insinuated itself into her fantasy and she murmured incoherently as she tried to make sense of what he was saying. "Kathryn the massage is finished," he said softly. She turned to him, startled back to reality, barely remembering in time to hang onto her nightgown as she met his twinkling eyes just millimetres away from hers. It was murder trying to deal with the realisation that the slightest movement on her part would bring her lips crushing up against his perfect mouth. He grinned and gave devilish chuckle as he pulled back and wiped his hands on his towel. "Well I guess if you dozed off, I must have done my job well," he commented recapping the small bottle of massage oil.

"Very well," she managed to croak. "That was a wonderful massage, Chakotay. The--the best I've ever had. Thank you."

"You're welcome Kathryn," he replied looking down as he stood. "Well, good night and sleep well."

She nodded and called, "Pleasant dreams Chakotay."

He laughed heartily as he backed up those last few steps to the threshold. "Oh don't worry, they will be." She gasped at him in surprise, but before she could say anything, he delivered his parting shot, "See, I told you Kathryn, that you would work for your pleasure."

Game, set and match.

He ducked out of the doorway before she could retaliate and all she could do was lay back and laugh at his sheer audacity. Through the thin wall, she could hear him settle into the bed on the opposite side and for the umpteenth time, she wondered what kept her playing these flirting games instead of just going to him. Her playful imp reared its ugly head again and she knocked on the partition between their rooms without stopping to think.

"Yes, Kathryn," he answered in a strangely hoarse voice after a moment and she chuckled with recognition of the source of his discomfort. Well, two could play these games of torture and after everything he'd put her through in the last half an hour he deserved everything he got.

"I only wanted to say, Chakotay," she began, pronouncing every syllable of his name slowly. "That I'm going to get you for that someday soon--you won't know when, you won't know how, you won't know where, but you'll know it when it happens." This time she managed to wring an anguished groan from deep within his throat and she finished her challenge in a low seductive voice, "Well good night, Chakotay."

"Good night, Kathryn," he managed after a few moments and she smiled again at the audible gasp that came with his obvious change in position. Even on these Starfleet issue, ultra-ergonomic mattresses, with the thin partition and his larger mass, each frustrated move and sound he made came through in perfect clarity.

She wondered how he would react if she simply walked into his little alcove one night, dropped her nightgown and climbed into bed with him. The rush of desire that washed over her told her exactly how she would react to her actions and it was all she could do to keep from moaning aloud, which would no doubt catch his attention again. As quietly as she could, she sat up, caught the hem of the thin garment and pulled it off over her head. Removing her brief lace panties required a great deal more manoeuvring skill, but she managed it with the minimum of movement. She settled back down under the cool sheets--not exactly what she'd been fantasising about, but one day soon, she promised both of them, she wouldn't stop at these excruciating little games of tag.

Next

Back to Stories
Back to Main Index

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws