PART THIRTEEN
Kathryn spent three days at the hospital. Three days in which she alternated between extreme impatience to come home and the cold reality that her body needed to heal after her ordeal. The EMH had been quite firm in insisting that she spent at least three days in hospital and Elizabeth Paris had heartily agreed.
Her mother had come to visit, and Kathryn had been in tears at her mother's concern and joy at the same time.
"We always knew there was something wrong, honey," Gretchen had said after wiping away a few tears. "And, we hoped that things would be better."
"Thank you, Mom. We…had our problems."
"And that Borg woman was at the heart of it."
Kathryn had sighed at the unflattering way her mother had referred to Seven of Nine.
"Her name is – "
"I know. But honey, she gave you a lot of grief, even though she was never here in a physical sense. And you know how it is. The clever and the beautiful and the most disciplined among us – you especially – are mostly human and our reactions are human; our hearts and our subconscious betray us, no matter how strong we sometimes are. It's not a failing, Kathryn. You are human and you need to acknowledge that Kathryn Janeway can't always be strong."
"I didn't think it would affect me that way, Mom. It ruined us, you know…"
Gretchen had looked at her with compassion.
"You rarely smiled. You and Chakotay looked so perfect together, with your long history of friendship, your life on board Voyager as colleagues… Life doesn't always give us things we want in the way we want them…"
"I know," she had agreed. "It's over now, Mom. Chakotay…is everything."
"Are you going to tell me the whole sordid story of how he vanished from here at weekends?"
Kathryn had given a laugh. "Mom! It's personal."
"Oh come on! I'm your mother. I gave that man an earful a few days ago and all for nothing. I should apologise…"
"He visited me at weekends on Naxos."
"Did he now… And there we all thought he was dashing off to you-know-where into the arms of you-know-who."
"You-know-who made a last gasp attempt to get him back."
"I hope he sent her packing."
"He did. Then he contacted me afterwards. I – " Kathryn had paused.
"You were too ill to respond to his call."
"Yes. "
"Your eyes are shining again, Kathryn."
"We've resolved everything."
"No doubt helped by Poseidon who watched over you."
"Not a chance. It was Lyra and Delphus."
"Constellations... Stars in collision. You choose your metaphors well."
She had laughed again and hugged her mother.
Gretchen had left, but not before extracting a promise that they'd visit her in her new home as soon as she was better.
Chakotay had been wonderful. He had come in every day and stayed as long as he could until their former EMH threw him out. Somehow, he had missed Gretchen, and Kathryn wondered how they'd be sizing one another up after their confrontation. Chakotay did tell her that Gretchen had relented and let him off the hook.
They talked, they kissed. Sometimes he just gazed at her as he held her hand in his; without him saying anything she knew he desired to be forgiven. Then she'd hold him to her bosom and stroke his hair, his cheeks, tracing the outline of his tattoo.
He looked rested, finally, after all those weeks when she had been worried that he appeared over-tired. Naturally, his back and forth shuttling between Naxos and San Francisco had been responsible, and he had admitted to her that he’d slept badly.
"Especially after every wonderful weekend with you."
"And how do you think I got through the week?" she parried.
He had been everything to her. On Naxos, in the exotic atmosphere of the Aegean, just imagining that he was a very attractive lover, a holiday romance, the whole illicit feel of being a married woman being courted so romantically by Chakotay, was just what they both needed. He courted her, brought her roses, walked with her in the craft market, with a watching Stavros beaming from ear to ear.
Chakotay had surprised her, and she had been glad that she never insisted on hearing what he was planning for her Aegean vacation. Only that day, when Stavros told her to look, did her heart skip several beats when she realised the stranger he was pointing to was in fact Chakotay. Chakotay had admitted afterwards that he had briefed Stavros to play along. But she responded to the challenge with great excitement and did what Chakotay had hoped she'd do – play along as if he really were a stranger to whom she had become attracted. After a while, she had grown comfortable, her behaviour, her responses had been as natural as though they had just met. It made her own intimate revelations easier too, so that he could hear her problems not as Chakotay, but as Ché. They both had demons to wrestle and now, thank the spirits, it was over. She shook her head, still amazed that she had given herself to Chakotay with so much freedom, her body singing to his touches.
"I am the lyre, Kathryn, and you, the music…"
That first night they made love… How wonderful now that she could think about them making love and not having sex. She had been bitter before, reducing what they had to crude expressions of the act of intimacy. She had been apprehensive, afraid that the same thing would happen again, and Chakotay had taken her fear and gently drawn it out of her body. In the morning, she had been distressed, running to her favourite haunt in Devil's Cove. In the bright light of day, it had been difficult to reconcile the man she married and her emotionless sex with him with the extremely passionate lovemaking of the previous night with the same man.
Over the past three years, they had both been unhappy. It could never be undone, and they would just invite more hurt if they dwelled on it. So they could only look forward to an exciting future together.
"Hey…"
She looked up. Chakotay was standing in the door. She had been so deep in thought that she hadn't heard him.
"Ready to go?" he asked as he reached her and drew her in his arms. She nuzzled her face in his neck, inhaling his cologne. A moan of contentment escaped her as she clung to him.
"I've been waiting here all day," she said dreamily.
"I told you I was going to Naxos to clean the house and pack your belongings. There were a few of my things too... It just took a little longer." He held her away from him and looked deeply into her eyes. "Ready?"
"I can't wait to get home," she replied, smiling at him.
********
It was late afternoon, the sun waning red over the Bay. The blinds of the lounge window were drawn so that natural light streamed into the room. Chakotay stood facing her, already breathing in a low, steady rhythm.
"Kathryn…" he moaned as she opened the top of his shirt and proceeded to remove the garment. "We could go to the bedroom…"
"Not yet," she whispered huskily. Her fingers hooked into the waist band of his trousers and slowly slid them down his legs; she followed the movement, her face coming in line with his crotch. Chakotay lifted first one foot, then the other as she removed his trousers and soon, the shorts followed.
"You're killing me," he croaked as she blew hot air on his cock, which had bobbed out when she pulled his shorts down. Now, she caught him with one hand, the other holding his thigh to keep her balance. His tip was bluish-red, distended; a droplet of silvery pre-cum hovered, and she caught it with her tongue. He gasped at the touch and she continued teasing the tip, flicking her tongue over it, then sucking briefly before letting go.
She guided his hand to her top. Seconds later, that garment lay on the floor. She rose slowly, leaving his cock and brushing her body against his. "Take off the rest," she hissed. His eyes were smouldering; his breathing coming in short gasps. When she stood naked, she took his hands and pulled him to the floor.
"What – " he started as he followed her down.
She stood, legs spread over him the moment he sat down flat. Then she slowly sank to the floor and knelt and to grasp his cock in both hands. He was beginning to drool and the knowledge sent her juices flowing. Keeping her eyes on him, watching for every nuance of expression, the way his eyes glowed like hot coals, the way his nostrils flared, his breathing rasping through half parted lips, she laved his cock against her already dripping centre. On and on until it incensed him, making his hips thrust forward in a desperate attempt to enter her. But she kept rubbing him against her. She felt soft and swollen, her folds parted and her clit exposed, as she let his tip make contact with it. By this time, she was breathing unevenly, her body aflame with desire.
Then she suddenly stopped. Chakotay's eyes flew open, surprised that she’d halted the massaging. Before he could open his mouth, she impaled herself on him with such speed and force that he gasped out loud.
As his arms enfolded her round her waist, hers on his shoulders, she saw the look of wonder in his eyes. He filled her so gloriously that she almost gave in to the impulse to push onto him. Her sheath closed like a clam on him; she held him there, locked into her her body so deeply that she thought she'd never let him.
"Kathryn…?"
"Take me to the window, Chakotay," she whispered against his mouth.
Only then did he start moving, his hips grinding into her, the movement taking him slowly forward. As the perspiration formed little beads on his brow, he pounded into her, his face contorted at the way he exerted himself to keep up the rhythm of thrusting and pulling. Eyes wild, he grunted as he caught one nipple in his mouth, sucking strongly on her. Her body rocked to the waves of ecstasy as she met his thrusts.
Their cries filled the room in concert with every shove forward.
Kathryn threw her head back, losing herself in the total onslaught of her desire, the swirling torrent of passion that gripped her. In breathless, mindless joy she felt herself reaching the edge.
She heard her name, torn painfully from his mouth, rending the air with its freedom as they both crashed over the edge.
The lounge window was large, from one wall to the other and from the top to barely thirty centimetres from the floor. On most days the blinds were closed, opened only when they were home during the day to allow a full view of San Francisco Bay.
Now, the cold glass shocked her back to the present moment and Kathryn realised she was lying back with her neck against the glass. She stared at Chakotay, who looked behind him, then at her. He didn't speak, just sat with her still impaled on him, with the aftermath of their orgasms still creating delicious little shudders.
"Hell, Kathryn…" Chakotay murmured.
Their bodies glistened from the perspiration. She felt loath to release him. Throwing herself against him, she held him to her, remaining like that for endless minutes.
Always, she had dreamed of this, of losing control with Chakotay, losing themselves in their passion, of reaching an edge and crashing over it with blinding force. A tear seeped from her closed eyelids.
"I dreamed of this…" she murmured tearfully. "For a long time…"
"Kathryn, darling," he whispered back, "I am at peace…"
"You are?" she asked him, lifting her face to look at him. Of course, she knew already, from Naxos, but she wanted to hear him say it to her for the rest of their lives.
"My mind is clear."
"So is mine." She kissed him, a long, lingering kiss that kept him aroused.
"Uh, Kathryn," he managed as he broke off the kiss. "I have rug burns…"
"Forget it. I can feel you want me again. Take me back to where we started."
"Yes, Ma'am!"
**********
Kathryn lay spooned against him in their bed. It was hot for August, so the window was open and light from the full moon streamed in and threw streaks on the floor, over the bed. His arm was around her waist and his hand covered her breast. She was not yet in deep sleep; from time to time she murmured, or wiggled herself against him as closely as she could. Then he'd hear a moan of pleasure escaping her.
It was long after midnight. After their blistering lovemaking when they had come home in the late afternoon, they had showered together, then dressed up for a night at the opera in New York. It was a short trip in their shuttle, and Kathryn had been content to watch him pilot, occasionally touching his cheek, or some part of him. He'd cast her a quick glance and smile, his whole being flaming with heat at the sight of her – so beautiful, her new aloofness adding more to her allure than it had before, when she didn't want him touching her.
The evening had been magical. Kathryn, restored to health, now glowed as she walked with her arm through his, smiling at those they recognised, or acquaintances as they greeted them.
Chakotay didn't notice much of what was going on in the opera, and he was certain that for once, Kathryn was oblivious too, of the happenings on the stage, of duets and trios and quartets singing. Her hand squeezed his, or she'd glance at him and he'd feel her eyes on him. Once she sidled closer and her breath fanned his already heated cheeks, and he knew that they would make love again when they got home.
So different, everything. A whole new dimension had been added to their lives because for a while, he had become Ché to her. There was no more Seven of Nine, no more agonies of wondering whether Kathryn would respond to him in bed. Much of their problems had been his fault, but thank the spirits, it was over.
Now, as she lay spooned to him, he smelled her hair, her perfume that still lingered as he breathed. He thought how Kathryn's beautiful evening gown lay on the floor, her shoes somewhere in the lounge and her underwear…he didn't know where that was, only that he had ripped it off soon after the dress went flying.
Was it an eternity ago that Kathryn had been absorbed in routine and ritual and painfully folding every garment neatly before getting into bed with him? It was so different now and so natural and spontaneous. He had told her that coming home and making love in their bedroom or wherever in the apartment would be the test, one that would finally drive away all the shadows that had been there before.
In the morning, there would be breakfast. He closed his eyes and pressed against her. "I love you…" he murmured.
"Sleep, Chakotay," came her muffled, sleepy whisper.
***
It was already light when he opened his eyes and felt for Kathryn. Chakotay smiled. She had probably already showered and was sitting down to breakfast, reading the Federation Daily News from her PADD.
Sighing, he lay back for a few minutes, listening to Kathryn moving about in the kitchen. She still had an ongoing battle with the replicator and was probably holding a conversation with it right now. He could picture her - wet hair brushed back, a scrubbed appearance, her new snow white terry robe that he insisted she replicate before she left on her vacation. There was a thump, and he almost burst out laughing. Kathryn was slapping the replicator in frustration. He hadn't heard that sound for a very long time. Now, it brought back familiarity.
He got up, showered and returned to the room. The bottom drawer was his; he removed a package with a bright ribbon tied to it. His heart thundered as he walked to the kitchen and kissed Kathryn, a kiss that was meant for her cheek, but Kathryn turned and he caught her mouth. The kiss lingered.
"Good morning, sweetheart," he said as he broke off the kiss and sat down opposite her. A quick scan of the table contents revealed burnt toast, coffee that was no longer hot, and several slices of sweet melons. There was no boiled egg with it ridiculous pixie cap.
"Good morning," she returned his greeting, giving him a lop-sided grin as he looked at the table.
"I had a fight with the replicator," she said.
"I heard," he replied and put the package down next to her plate. He saw her frown.
"What is this?" she asked as she picked it up.
"Happy anniversary, Kathryn…"
For a moment he thought Kathryn was going to burst into tears.
"Have you forgotten it's our anniversary?"
Why did he ask? The first two times she had shrugged it off. They hadn't had reason to celebrate.
"I haven't thought of a gift for you," she said, her voice sounding suddenly forlorn.
"Your happiness is my gift," he said. "I want to see you happy, always. Now, are you going to open your gift?"
Carefully Kathryn untied the ribbon and removed the wrapping. He watched her frown as she held the PADD. She glanced up at him, then flicked it on and began to read.
"Contract of deed of sale between the Aegean Island Authority and Captain Chakotay for the property of Arion's Dolphin, a beach house on the island of Naxos…" A tear rolled down Kathryn's cheek. She continued reading, her voice quivering. "and signature of Deed of Transfer to Kathryn Janeway…"
Kathryn looked at him, her eyes full of tears. The PADD dropped from her hand and landed on the table. In a quick move, he got up and stood next to her, pulling her to her feet. She threw herself against him.
When she had calmed down, he held her away.
"You are married to a very poor man, Kathryn," he said in an attempt to lighten her mood. She laughed through her tears.
"I am a very happy woman married to a poor man. Don't forget that."
"Never, my love."
When she reached up to kiss him, he thought wonderingly how they could now have their Aegean interlude as often as they desired.
*********