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 2: Clearing Driftwood after the Tempest
The sound of Kathryn crying brokenly in her bedroom was the last thing Chakotay had expected to hear as he entered the shelter one afternoon after a particularly bad plasma storm.
He had foolishly gone walking further than he'd intended late the afternoon before.  By the time he'd caught his bearings and realised that the storm was upon him, he'd found himself in an unfamiliar part of the forest, without a communicator, tricorder or any protection from the fury of the elements.  Finally spotting a craggy overhang of rocks, he'd taken refuge intending to stay only long enough for the storm to let up.
It hadn't been as bad as some storms they'd weathered so far--including the one that had destroyed much of her equipment.  But it was still bad enough to be caught in it without any protection, and as the hours dragged on, he had hoped she would have the sense to stay inside where it was safe.
In a way, it had been all her fault that he'd wandered away so preoccupied by her latest manoeuvre, that he'd lost all track of time and direction as he daydreamed about her while his feet carried him where ever they'd wanted to go.  Her audacious retaliation for his comment after her massage was both as devastating and surprising as she had promised--and exceedingly long in coming.  That lady definitely knew how to milk a grudge for all it was worth.
Chakotay had been surprised at how easily Kathryn had slipped into their daily routine after the massage--as if she hadn't been aware of his excruciating physical problem that night.  He was sure she'd heard every last laboured breath, but she had been as quiet as the proverbial mouse.  Meanwhile, he lay caught between the twin agonies of her pert little behind covered in glimpses of virginal white lace and the delicious sight of her creamy breasts as she hastened to pull her nightgown up to cover them when she sat up after the massage.  He was equally sure she hadn't been aware that one impudent coral nipple had been peeking over the top of its covering during their entire exchange after the massage.  And he hadn't been about to tell her.
However, the next morning she'd been as cool as a cucumber, exceedingly polite and infuriatingly nonplussed by the feelings that were obviously developing between them.  The ensuing two weeks had passed at a snail's pace.  However, the evening he had returned from a night and a day of fasting and meditating in his private place by the river to commemorate his father's death, he'd returned to a thoughtful, sumptuous dinner, carefully prepared with as little cooking as she could possibly manage.  It had consisted of the wild green rice, perfectly steamed vegetables with a little butter, a few other crunchy, raw vegetables with only a slightly scorched cream sauce and a delicious fruit salad with all his favourites served in a tangy blend of their own juices.  Still there hadn't been any sign of her promised retaliation as she worked doggedly collecting data from those damned green fish.  Then two nights ago, the roof had literally caved in on him.
Although he'd built it for her and it undoubtedly was her bathtub, every now and then, late in the night when she invariably never used it, he would occasionally draw a bath and relax for a little while.  That evening, he'd been in it for about ten minutes, just floating on a cloud of steam when he heard her sultry voice purring directly into his ear, "Do you mind if I join you, Chakotay?"
He'd sat bolt upright, sloshing the water around as his eyes flew open to meet her dancing, impudent ones.  He'd stared at her, unable to believe what he'd just heard, but her direct gaze told him that he hadn't heard wrong.  "Kathryn?" he gasped in utter disbelief.  "I--I thought you were sleeping."
Testing the temperature of the water with one hand and holding her short peach satin robe closed with the other, she continued to hold his gaze.  "I've always wondered if it was big enough for two," she continued as she mounted the platform.  Still wearing the robe, she swung her bare legs into the tub as she sat on the rim.  "I seem to be at an impasse with my research on this darned fish Chakotay, and like I've always said from the beginning--"
He was aware of the flimsy garment sliding from her shoulders onto the platform behind her an instant before she submerged into the dark, concealing water.  "I do my best thinking in the tub," she purred.
He had sat there tongue-tied with his knees drawn up almost beneath his chin, as she settled herself with her legs on the outside of his and each small foot resting lightly against a hip.  He'd almost been terrified of moving, unsure of what he would come into contact with if he were to move--but move he did, and when his legs came into contact with her inner thighs, it only exacerbated his already precarious hold on his control.  This was definitely not a situation conducive to relaxation by any stretch of the imagination and his imagination was currently being stretched to its limits.
He'd marvelled at her calm and given her a silent nod, conceding that round in the battle as she continued to speak about her research while her eyes sent out dangerous sparks in his direction.  "Well it seems that I've come to the end of my tests on the compounds in this fish--the darned thing destroys the virus, but the only problem is that it destroys human tissue as well, especially neural tissue."
This time he'd regained enough control to trust himself with his voice.  "So where do you go from here?"
"Nowhere," she'd answered a little sadly.  "At least not for the moment until I can get more samples into culture from the native animals."  She had given him a small wry grin and continued.  "I just don't know enough Chakotay.  I'm just going to have to accept that although I'm a classically trained scientist and I'm learning more than I ever have in the past, I just don't have enough specialised background in the bio-sciences to make those intuitive leaps a trained physician or biochemist would make.  I've always leaned more towards the physics and engineering side of things in my training--ask me anything about warp theory or subspace plasma dynamics or metaphasic shielding and I'm in my element.  Here I feel like the proverbial fish out of water."
He'd chuckled at the image she conjured up in his mind of her lying naked on the on the platform, her body glistening from the water.  "You can't be everything Kathryn," was his soft answer.  "No one can know everything--every secret in the universe.  You can only do so much, keep striving to improve your knowledge, but you also have to accept the fact that you will never find all the answers that you seek."
"I know, Chakotay," she'd murmured.  "I know.  And I've also given some serious thought to your suggestion and you're right, we are going to have to come up with some alternatives for concealing our presence here.  Voyager found this world, and we can't be sure that others won't come.  I don't want to have to move into some dark, musty cave, but we may not have an alternative.  Anyway, I'm not ready yet to give up my sunshine and tonight I started a search of our database for all the pertinent research on cloaking devices--I may even have a lead already on a possible energy source."
She'd laughed at his obvious surprise at how quickly she'd tackled that problem, and she saucily flicked some water into his face.  "The trialurite ore deposits you picked up in your last survey run of the eastern mountain range may be just the thing if it's pure enough or can be purified enough for our use."
He'd enthusiastically agreed to collect some samples on their next cartographic foray and they'd slipped into a companionable silence for a few minutes before Kathryn the Vixen returned in full force.
"Well, I think I'm all thought out," she'd said in that sexy, smoky voice, alerting him to the fact that the game was still afoot.  "How about you, Chakotay, are you relaxed?"
"Relaxed, Kathryn?" he'd quipped in amusement as he felt her legs withdraw from their places on either side of him and he wondered how she was going to manage her exit.  "Somehow I don't think that's quite what you had in mind."
To his surprise, in one quick, graceful movement, she had pushed herself out of the water so that he got a full view of her back as she stepped out of the tub and had hopped off the platform opposite him before he could collect his scattered wits.  When she came back into view a moment later, she was belting her robe securely and brought her mouth close to his ear again.  "Oh really, Chakotay," she purred softly.  "And tell me, exactly what did you think I had in mind?"
The delicious agony had been exquisite and he couldn't even remember when it had ever been possible for him to have an erection like this under water of all places.
"By the gods of my ancestors, Kathryn, it would serve you right if I stood up right now!"  That humiliating admission in a tight frustrated voice had been well worth the sight of her eyes widening in surprise and the deep blush he could see suffusing her face even in that dim light.  "Now will you please leave, you little minx, before I lose all semblance of control and get us both into a heap of trouble?"
She'd given a nervous, strangled laugh as she met his tortured eyes, before managing a hoarse, "Good night, Chakotay."  Then in a more steady voice, she'd continued as she stood at the threshold.  "Don't stay out too late."
He'd splashed the water in frustration as he replied, "Gods Kathryn, with you in there, I think it would be safer if I stayed out here all night."  Her throaty laughter had stayed with him long after she had retired to her tiny bedroom, and it had been close to an hour before he had been able to calm himself enough to venture inside.  In the stillness as he slipped naked beneath the sheets that night, even as exhausted as he was, he had spent at least another half an hour listening to her soft murmurs and sleep sounds before finally succumbing to sleep himself.
****
Now two days later, he stood frozen with terror for a moment at her bedroom door listening to her agonised weeping before rushing in without a thought for her privacy.
"Kathryn!" he called anxiously as he entered, fully expecting to find her broken, bleeding body on the floor as a result of an accident during the storm.  Instead, he found her flung across her bed, sobbing wildly and honestly like a child.
At the sound of his voice, she tore into his arms, almost knocking him backwards.  He struggled to keep his balance, finally crashing down onto the bed with her still sobbing his name over and over as her hands fluttered over his body, as if to make sure all of him was real.  It was then that it hit him--that all of those tears had been for him.
Her litany changed from his name to "You're safe" over and over as she continued to cry.  She really had been afraid for him, he realised as he tried to soothe her.  The tearful words came tumbling out all at once as if she was afraid that he would disappear.
"I looked everywhere for you, Chakotay! I couldn't find you--you didn't take a commbadge.  I searched all night, all morning--everywhere!  I thought something had happened to you, I was so afraid that something had happened to you, that I would never find you, that you were out there all alone and I would never find you again, Chakotay, that I wouldn't get to you in time."
Suddenly it wasn't only her hands exploring him, making sure he was real, her soft lips roamed his face, pressing ravenous kisses everywhere as she spoke until they found his mouth.  The passionate kisses were heady, frantic, hungry at first--wild and desperate to connect with him, as if to confirm that he was truly alive, but as the kisses softened and became more inviting, he felt a sudden wrongness about them and he looked down into her eyes again.  They were still frightened, wild and desperate, and he realised that she was confusing the torrent of relief she was feeling at his safe return for something far different from her fear.  Although pushing her away at that moment was among the hardest things he'd ever done, no matter what his aching body was telling him at the moment, he had to listen to what her soul was saying.  And it was telling him that she definitely was not ready for this.  Not this way.
"Kathryn," he called gently, cupping her face and looking into her eyes as he broke the kiss.  "Kathryn, I'm all right.  I'm fine, and safe.  Listen to me Kathryn, I'm safe."
"Yes, I know," she said with relief in her voice.  "You're safe."  She kissed him again passionately as she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.
It took all his will power to push her away again and force himself to look into those gorgeous blue eyes, so frightened and needy.  "No," he said firmly and saw her chin tremble.  "It would be wrong to do this now, in this way Kathryn--you've had a terrible fright and you're just feeling relieved that I'm ok.  We can't do this."  It was as if there was some magic incantation in those words, the change in her was so swift, he'd barely had a moment to register it, much-less the time to figure out what was behind it.
"No, we can't do this," she repeated, quickly climbing out of his lap, but the tone of her voice, the finality of those words were what caught his attention and he knew instinctively that she hadn't meant them in the same way he had.  He caught her arms before she could escape and held her as she struggled like a frantic bird against him, confusing him more and more.  "I can't do this--not again, Chakotay," she cried hysterically.  "Not again, not again!  I can't go through this again!  I won't!"
She wrenched her wrists out of his grasp and ran sobbing from the room, leaving him stunned.  He didn't know what had gone wrong within those few fleeting seconds.  All he could comprehend was that the look in her eyes had gone instantly from frightened to something infinitely worse.  It wasn't something that he could put his finger on, but he knew that it was something that he'd seen before--he didn't know where or when, but he knew he had, and he knew that fear couldn't even begin to describe it.
It took him hours to understand what had frightened him about the way she had said those words.  She'd meant she was not going to pursue this relationship with him at all, and unless he could figure out what was going on with her, he knew that he didn't have an ice cube's chance in hell of sharing a life with her.  In the distance he heard the crackle of another plasma storm's fury building.
****
Chakotay didn't know how much more of the way Kathryn was acting he could take--it was as if the first five months of their lives on New Earth hadn't happened--as if less than one week before, she hadn't climbed into the tub naked with him.  All those little things that had been bringing them closer together since the beginning of their life together were quickly buried, without reason or explanation.
He watched her now through the open door, diligently working through schematics for dozens of different designs of cloaking devices--the Starfleet decorum in place was such that not even the Captain Janeway he'd known on Voyager at her most unyielding, had ever possessed.  He'd tried time after time to get her to talk to him about what had frightened her so badly, but each time had felt as if he had come up against ten-metre thick duratanium bulkhead.  She barely ate or slept now, all she seemed to do was work, but without the sense of optimism or accomplishment he was accustomed to from her.  The strained formality was stifling him and he found that he could barely stand to be in the same room with her for more than five minutes at a time--well he was damned if he was going to give up without a fight.  He took a deep breath and went inside.
"Kathryn, we have to talk about us," he said curtly and she looked up at him tiredly.
"No we don't, Chakotay," she replied in that same implacable voice she had been using all week.  "Look, I've already apologised I don't know how many times for leading you on, for being as you eloquently put it--a tease!  How many more times do I have to keep saying I'm sorry, but there is no us?"
"Until you can say it so many times that it becomes the truth!" he hissed through clenched teeth.  "Because as far as I'm concerned the past five months--those were the truth; the past two years--those were the truth.  These past five days are the travesties--the lies!  And nothing you can say would convince me otherwise."
"Are you so sure about that?" she replied angrily.  "Well don't be--because what you see as the truth were simply lies in another form!  Perhaps you should learn to tell the difference before you start preaching to me."  He stared at her in shock; no matter what he said, she always managed to twist his words into something vile.
She rose in a fury, toppling her chair as she made for the door and he caught her hand as she tried to move past him.  "And was Captain Janeway a lie too?" he asked softly.
She gave a harsh bitter laugh as she wrenched her hand away.  "She was the biggest lie of all, Chakotay.  Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going for a walk," she said as she pushed past him."
"You can go straight to hell for all I care," he sneered contemptuously.
The expression froze on his face as she turned to him and fixed him with the cruellest smile he'd ever seen on another person's face.  "Yeah well, that road is a whole lot shorter than you think, Chakotay--so see you there."
He leaned against the doorway, physically exhausted and drained from that short battle.  It wasn't supposed to be like this, he didn't want to fight with her every time he saw her, but invariably he did and each time they destroyed a little more of that special bond he felt was between them.  Now he began to doubt that that bond ever existed in the first place.  He watched her disappear into the forest and his Father's words from that afternoon rose unbidden in his mind.
"Why do you need her to tell you what is wrong, Chakotay?" Dream Father had continued to carve a small wooden flute, unperturbed by his son's obvious agitation.
"Because I don't know where to start looking--I don't know what I'm looking for."
"Why not start with what you do know?" Kolopak had asked logically.  He held out the unfinished flute for him to see.  "What is this, Chakotay?"
"A flute."
The old man had shaken his head in disappointment.  "Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure," he'd returned in annoyance.  "You blow in that end and the music comes out the other."
"When have you heard music come from this thing?"
"Well, I haven't heard this one," he'd answered in frustration.  "But I've heard countless others just like it--it is simply a flute."
"Then all flutes are like this."  Kolopak had turned the instrument over in his hands to show the backside.  An ugly, gaping crack ran down the back.
Chakotay had looked at him in confusion.  "Why would you carve a damaged flute--one that couldn't possibly play music?  What is the use of that?"
"And I ask again, how do you know this is a flute, Chakotay?  When have you ever heard it's music, seen it played?  How do you know what use it has?  Why are you so quick to discard it, Chakotay?"  He'd watched his father take a small piece of fine sandpaper and lovingly sand the mouthpiece.  Kolopak had looked up sadly again as the Dream plane began to dissolve.  "What is this, Chakotay?"
"A piece of wood," Chakotay answered now in comprehension.  "A piece of wood."  He realised that he'd been making a lot of assumptions about Kathryn based on all the other women he'd known in his past, but what did he really know about the person Kathryn Janeway beyond the fact that she embodied the form of a woman.  The most desirable woman to him--that was certain, but who was she beyond that woman.  Captain Janeway?  No, she was simply the smooth carved front of the flute with every hole, and every little flourish in its place.
"Why not start with what you know?"
He took a padd from his desk drawer and made his way to his bedroom.  As he lay across his bed, he began to tap in all the information he knew about Kathryn Janeway.
Father: Admiral Edward Janeway; scientist, engineer, starship designer.
Mother: Dr. Gretchen Janeway; mathematician, scientist.
Sister: Phoebe Janeway; artist.
Lover: Mark ? philosopher, childhood friend.
They had talked a little more about Mark, but now Chakotay couldn't remember his last name.  He had been someone Kathryn had known all her life--a friendship that had eventually blossomed into love--Johnson, he remembered now, Mark Hobbes Johnson.
Best friend: Tuvok of Vulcan; tactical officer, advisor, mentor.
Age: forty-one, birthday May 20.
Occupation: Starfleet Captain, scientist.
He looked up again, wondering why she had streamed into the command track after training to be a hard core science officer.  He remembered her saying that Paris' father had encouraged her to try for command and had recommended her to Command School, but he didn't know what had motivated her to do it.  It probably had a lot to do with that need for control of hers.  Her parents had no doubt had a lot to do with her decision to become a scientist, but what made her decide to become a starship captain.
She had entered the Academy some twenty-odd years before, about the same time he had, but he'd always been in the command track--trained as a pilot and a team leader.  Had he been aware of her back then?  He decided he hadn't, but he found it funny to think that he might have stood behind her in a line at the Academy mess hall all those years ago, without knowing that she was the woman he would end up spending the rest of his life with.  He knew a little of how she had distinguished herself as she moved up the ranks, but he felt sure that what ever it was that had a stranglehold on her right now was personal and had little to do with her Starfleet career.  If it did, he could always come back to it.  He looked down at his pitiful list in angry frustration.  This couldn't be all he knew about her!
"Who are you Kathryn Janeway?" he whispered aloud.  He knew more about her bloody dogs than he did about her.
Her dogs! he thought in excitement.  Her constant companions almost her entire life.  Mr. Tuggles, a gentle, gigantic, unchanging, unconditional ball of fur from since babyhood, loved and trusted without question.  He'd probably been with her parents long before she was born, but as with any child, he'd probably become her exclusive domain as soon as she was old enough to understand the concept of "mine".
He chuckled softly at the image that conjured up--of a two year old Kathryn rolling in the grass with the enormous St. Bernard.  Then there was Bramble, a little bundle of love to soak up the tears of childhood and lick clean the wounds of growing up so they could heal properly.  He'd died just before she entered the Academy and then she'd been dogless while she'd pursued her career until Petunia came into her life--"on a cold winter's day" when she hadn't been sure that life was worth living.
Those had been her words and one of the only indications he'd had of a darker side to her past.  What had happened to her then and what did it have to do with the way she was acting now?  Suicide?  A cold chill ran through him--no, he couldn't even imagine Kathryn thinking about something like that.
"I can't go through this again!  Not again!  Not again!"  Her hysterical words bombarded him over and over-- What was she so frightened of?  The road to hell was a lot shorter than he thought.  He saw those cruel, dead eyes looking back at him as he reviewed their last fight.
For the past week, he'd been terrified of those eyes--the eyes he finally remembered seeing in those members of the Marquis who had seen too much death, the ones who volunteered for the suicide missions and never came back.  How far on the road to hell had she travelled?
He remembered the bundle of mud-stained clothes in the corner of her tiny room and her words to him when she realised he was safe.  She'd searched all night for him in the wind and the rain and he could imagine her frantic cries as she fought the elements.  Her tricorder would have been useless beyond a meter or two during a plasma storm.  She loved him, she'd been afraid he'd been hurt out there all alone where she couldn't find him--or worse, that he'd died, leaving her alone on this deserted world.
He cursed his thoughtlessness, but it was more than just this incident--it had happened before, but to whom?  She had been on this road to hell before; the question was whom had she lost along the way?
He looked down again at his list--Mark.  Well she certainly had lost him or rather he had been lost to her, but he wasn't dead--at least not as far as she knew for certain.  But she would probably never see him again.  His loss had been devastating to her, but she had been able to handle it.  Although he had never been privy to her private grief those first months after she'd destroyed the Array, he was sure that the loss of Mark was simply another knife to open an old wound the way he'd done five days ago.
He didn't know anything about her other lovers, but that wasn't surprising, he hadn't talked about his past lovers either.  Ironically, the one that he considered to be his worst mistake--and he'd certainly made enough of those--but the only one she knew about was Seska, the biggest monument to bad judgement he could possibly find.
Her father?  Kathryn's mother and sister were still alive, but when had her father died?  How had he died?  Chakotay padded over to the seldom-used console in the corner of his room.  Until now, he'd preferred to use the one in the living room, even for recording his daily logs--because she was usually there beside him.
Vice Admiral Edward Janeway; deceased December 28, 2355--sixteen years before--an accidental death.  Kathryn would have been on her first starship mission with Admiral Paris on the Icarus if he remembered correctly.  He pulled up her service record and looked at it in surprise, she'd officially left Paris' command December 4th--three weeks before her father's death.  Her next official record entry was for Command School training from April to September 2356.
So she hadn't been on the Icarus when he'd died--wait a minute.  He peered at the dates again. Command School usually ran for six months from January to June, and from July to December, yet her records showed a gap of three months.  Chakotay knew all about Starfleet records--everything was recorded, even if it was just three months spent collecting moon rocks in the Sea of Tranquility, and even if she was allowed a few days to mourn her father's death, the latest she would have started was mid-January.  She would have still been registered officially for the January to June term.  He tried to access more details on Edward Janeway's death, but all he came up with was the dry Starfleet obituary.
Vice Admiral Edward Janeway died December 28, 2355 at the age of 58, in an accident on board the USS Terra Nova on manoeuvres around Tau Ceti Prime.  He is survived by...  Chakotay banged the desk in frustration.  He tried to access the details of the accident on board the Terra Nova for that date and came up blank--in fact the last Starfleet ship he could find with that name had been destroyed over a century before.  He'd found six other contemporary ships with that name or something close to it that were privately owned, but four of them hadn't even been built at the time of the accident while the other two didn't seem remotely connected in any way.  In any case, civilian ships wouldn't carry the USS designation--that honour was strictly reserved for Starfleet ships.
Chakotay scrubbed at his eyes tiredly--damn Starfleet and their bloody secrecy.  After a moment, he stared back at the computer screen--the Starfleet database might not tell him anything, but what about the civilian database, with all its business, culture, politics, gossip and current events.  The only question was how much of that database had been downloaded into their computer--certainly it would have included everything from the last century or so from Earth.  Kathryn came from a small, traditional community in Indiana, Cartersville--what passed for a small town in this era.  He remembered her complaining about having to learn traditional things like tennis when she would have rather played Parissees Squares.
Her father would have been an important man, or at the very least well known in that community--and a traditional town like Cartersville would most likely have--yes it did, a community newsnet.  The Cartersville Herald, the equivalent of the local daily newspaper and he smiled as he found Edward Janeway's obituary.  His face fell as he read short, sensitively written passage with a pounding heart.  He understood now why he couldn't find any references to the Terra Nova.  It had been a prototype ship of the Admiral's own design.  One particular paragraph caught his attention and he had to read it again to make sure he'd understood it correctly.
"This accident is all the more tragic, coming so soon after the happy announcement in the Herald on December 15th, of the impending marriage of Admiral Janeway's eldest daughter, Ensign Kathryn Janeway, to Lieutenant Justin Tighe, who was also reported killed in the crash.  Ensign Janeway is reported to be in stable but critical condition at Mittern Station."
He continued to stare at the screen in shock, oblivious to the tears streaming down his face.  Not only had she lost her father, she'd lost her husband to be in the same blow--worse, she'd been in the accident.  She had survived and they'd died.  Chakotay called up the conditions of Tau Ceti Prime.  It was nothing but one giant ball of ice.  What had happened during that accident?
Finally, he brought up the wedding announcement.  A sob caught in his throat as he saw the picture of the beautiful, spirited, happy young woman in the arms of the more serious-eyed, but undoubtedly happy young man who appeared to be about thirty.  The love in her eyes was undeniable and Chakotay's heart ached at how young she looked.
"Vice Admiral Edward Janeway and Dr. Gretchen Janeway, are happy to announce the impending marriage of their eldest daughter Ensign Kathryn Janeway, to Lieutenant Justin Tighe on July 10, 2356."
Her father, Justin, Mark.  Chakotay knew that she'd also been engaged to marry Mark for about a year before Voyager was taken and that they'd been lovers for more than five years. Mark had been a safe choice, a philosopher--she'd been the one with the dangerous job.  No one could have foreseen that she would be brutally separated from him, thrown into this bizarre situation where he might as well be dead, but wasn't.
Now there was him--Chakotay.  The only other soul on this entire planet, both suffering from a disease they had no idea what the long-term consequences were and facing a world of unknown dangers.  Six nights ago, he didn't come home.  The world had been torn apart by forces she couldn't control and she couldn't find him, her voice drowned out by the wind and the rain and the plasma surges.  That long, wet night had simply been an inconvenience for him, and moment after agonising moment of complete terror for her.  Terra Nova, New Earth--an amazing coincidence, which had he known, he never would have chosen it for the name of this wretched world.
He heard a soft rustling from her room and glanced at his chronometer--it was 22:30 hours. He'd spent all evening in his room, forgotten about fixing dinner, helping out with the chores or prepping for the trip to collect trialurite ore samples from the eastern mountain range.  He stepped out of his alcove and surveyed the living room.  There was a covered plate on the table and a neat pile of sample cases and mining gear by the door.  He covered the few steps to her door quickly and knocked gently.  "Kathryn, may I come in?"
"Yes."  He found her standing in the middle of her room in that heavy Vulcan robe, her hairbrush in hand, and the soft waves of hair framing her stern face.  "What do you want?" she asked in mild annoyance.
Chakotay met her eyes without anger for the first time in days.  "Only to tell you that I'm not your father, I'm not Justin and I'm not Mark--"
He only had a second to catch her as her legs gave away and she knocked everything off her dressing table clinging to it for support.  He gathered her up in his arms and sat on the bed, holding her until those terrible shudders passed.
"I wish I could promise that I won't die or be taken from you like they were, but I can't Kathryn."  He waited for her loud sobbing to quieten before continuing.  "I have nothing to offer but love.  I can't take away your fears or make the past go away.  All I can do here and now, is offer you my love.  If you take it and when you take it is up to you Kathryn, it's up to you.  My love is there for the asking--it will always be there."
****
Kathryn woke as the body below her shifted slightly into another position.  She raised her head from his chest and looked down into Chakotay's sleeping face.  Bright sunlight streamed through her window, marking the lateness of the day, revealing the exhaustion in his face and the dark smudges beneath his eyes.  A flood of intense emotion swept over her as she laid her head back on his chest.
She had done that to him--selfishly shut him out, left him bewildered and wondering what he'd done wrong, what he had done to harm her when in actual fact he'd done nothing wrong, done nothing to hurt her.  But she had hurt him badly with her words and scorn--doing anything she could to keep him from burrowing any deeper into her soul and as always, not caring how much of him she destroyed, as long as she could not be hurt, nothing else mattered.
Yet, somehow he had been able to pick through all that emotional garbage and debris she had thrown in his way and found the truth.  He hadn't blamed her, become angry or told her that he understood what she had done and why she had done it.  Sometimes, she didn't even understand why she did this--but even so she felt he had understood.
I'm not your father, I'm not Justin and I'm not Mark.
I wish I could promise that I won't die or be taken from you like they were, but I can't Kathryn.
I have nothing to offer but love.
I can't take your fears away or make the past go away.
All I can do here and now, is offer you my love.
My love is there for the asking--it will always be there.
A tear for each healing word he'd spoken to her soaked into his shirt.  She felt him gently stroke her hair.  "I'm sorry, Chakotay," she whispered.
"I know," he replied simply.  He cupped her chin and forced her to look into his eyes.  "But we have to talk, Kathryn."
She nodded tearfully as she answered him, "Yes."  She laid her head on his shoulder and continued to sob softly as he gathered her closer to him.  As she regained her control, a low rumbling sound caught her attention--his stomach was growling! She couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up from inside and he met her eyes in confusion.
"Now what is so funny?"
She had to take a deep breath to steady herself before she could answer.  "Your stomach, Chakotay--it's growling!" she managed before dissolving into gales of laughter again.
He joined her hilarity and she could hear the relief in his voice.  "Well what do you expect woman!  I had no dinner yesterday, a wretched lunch, missed breakfast this morning and it's almost noon," he griped.  "You're lucky I haven't eaten you--"
He must have caught the look in her eyes, because he blushed beneath his tan.  She pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his lips and looked deep into his eyes.  "Not yet love," she whispered.  She continued to look into his eyes, to let him know that she was not simply flirting--taking fast, hard snipes then retreating back into safety.
Again he understood, her promise, her permission.  He met her lips in another gentle kiss, then hugged her tightly to him before releasing her.  His lips curled into an embarrassed smile.  "I hate to break this up, but nature calls."
She laughed and crawled out from on top him.  As he stood, she went up on her toes to kiss him again.  "I'll make the coffee," she said as his hand lingered in her hair for a moment before he ducked out of the room.
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