Poinsettia
vanhunks
"Even the most humble gift, if given in love, will be acceptable in His eyes."
A Christmas story for Kathryn and Chakotay
Disclaimer: Paramount owns Janeway and Chakotay.
Rating: [PG-13]
Code: J/C
Completed: December 2007
Acknowledgement: A most heartfelt thank you to Mary S, betareader-editor extraordinaire.
Author's Note: Written for the VAMB 2007 Secret Santa Exchange. My recipient was Dawn. Her request was simple:
***How about a post-endgame J/C Christmas story. Any rating is fine***
POINSETTIA
PART ONE: GETTING RID OF…a few unwanted things
He felt sick. He had been feeling sick for most of the past year. Voyager's third reunion a month ago hadn’t done much either to overcome his wretchedness. And why? Kathryn hadn’t been there there, that's why. He had always found her presence sustaining, just looking at her kept him going for another year. He wondered absently how so many of the crew who had been present at the Endler Memorial Auditorium could have accepted that she wasn't there. A reunion without the captain?
That she was on a diplomatic mission to Bajor did nothing to salve his concern and acceptance of her absence. She wasn't there although she had, through subspace bands, delivered her apologies and her message to her loyal crew. It couldn't be helped if the Federation was seeking to avoid another political bungle and possible war. Heaven forbid that they be drawn into another war. Kathryn Janeway to the rescue, he thought bitterly.
He pulled his face as the punch Tom Paris had concocted punched his gut. Damn Paris too, for spiking his drink. Not that it was aimed at him personally but still, he always felt Tom targeted him more than any member of the senior crew of Voyager. Chakotay looked around him, surreptitiously surveying the others at the Christmas party thrown by the Paris family at their royal retreat called "Palings". The gift exchange was still to be announced by Owen Paris, whose hair seemed to have miraculously lost its grey, his face the old austerity; his eyes were lit with a new excitement with the arrival of a granddaughter in Miral Paris and the doting mother whose belly was swollen with her second child.
A boy, they had told him earlier. And B'Elanna looked radiant, with none of the old pinched anxiety that had marred her face over the anticipated physical appearance of her daughter Miral. Good for her. She was happily married. So was Ayala with his two sons and his wife Carmen. So was Susan Nicoletti and Lieutenant Rowan Jackson of the USS Arkansas. Susan had met her man and her match while commissioned to that vessel three years ago and fell in love with Rowan "instantly" as she had told him in a beaming communication not long afterwards.
The Delaney sisters looked cool, reminding him of Annika.
Groaning as an image of super cool Annika Hansen loomed before him, he took a quick gulp of the pungent punch and allowed it to shock his system again. He was on his third cup. When he had finished his second, it was to hear Mrs Paris senior reminding him he would soon be in his cups if not used to her son's potions. He should have known. Paris had gotten him morbidly drunk on more than one occasion on Voyager. Each of those occasions had either B'Elanna or Kathryn Janeway at the heart of their "getting into their cups". He gave a sigh and pulled his face once more.
"Chakotay, you gonna sit there and mope all evening?" he heard B'Elanna's voice through the fog of his addled brain.
"What?" he responded with a frown, then realised belatedly that everyone was looking at him.
"Your gift. You have to present your gift," she said. He thought she looked compassionate and angry at the same time. A half Klingon female looking compassionate? He scowled, then smiled ruefully, a little embarrassed as he bent down and lifted his gift which had lain beside him on the floor. It was a gold box painted with mistletoe and with a bright green ribbon adorning it. It looked very Christmassy, was his thought when he had wrapped it the previous day.
"Uh…this gift is for someone here whom I admire very much. A fine physician of Starfleet - one of the finest. She treated me six months ago when I came down with Licodrian Flu. Well, Mrs Paris," he continued as he moved to where Tom's mother was sitting next to her husband, "I hope you will enjoy this gift as much as I have enjoyed making it…"
"Why, thank you, Captain Chakotay. I may be the only one present to receive a hand-crafted gift," she beamed as she leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek.
His heart warmed at her generous praise. Why did she remind him of Kathryn? That thought spoiled the golden moment as he strode quickly back to his seat, wondering why he had bothered to come.
Then Admiral's Paris's voice boomed across the room. Chakotay wondered whether he was in his cups too. One by one, each guest present offered his or her gift with a little message to the recipient.
"And the last gift is for Captain Chakotay…."
The old man ducked behind the large comfy couch and retrieved something, something red. It wasn't wrapped like all the other gifts. Admiral Paris held up the plant with its bold red leaves.
"Captain, your gift is from Admiral Janeway. As we all know, she could not be with us tonight. We think of her at this moment as I hand you this…"
Chakotay stared, unable to take his eyes off the potted plant Admiral Paris brought to him. He rose from his seat, his movement slow, sluggish. His mind was in a whirl. Kathryn was giving him a gift?
"She left no message, Captain…" Admiral Paris added before he returned to his place.
Mrs Paris smiled benignly, patting his hand. "It's a poinsettia, my love. Don't you know?"
"My dear, I'm an admiral and grandfather, not a botanist," retorted the admiral archly.
Amidst exclamations of how beautiful the plant was, Chakotay still stared at the profusion of red bracts that cupped the poinsettia flower.
All he could whisper almost angrily, was "flower of the Holy Night…" before he took the poinsettia and sat down again. There was noise around him. He didn't care. This gift was from Kathryn. He recognised it instantly. Why did she draw his name? She had walked out on him. Why did she even care? Why too, did his heart beat so erratically that he wanted to clutch at his chest? Why did the burning sensation persist? Was there to be happiness for him after all amidst all his transgressions?
"Is there really no message with the gift, Captain?" Susan Nicoletti asked, looking all friendly and smiling.
"There must be," retorted Rowan. "What's a gift without a little message attached to it, especially as the giver is not here?"
Someone - he realised it was B'Elanna with her eight month pregnant belly - pulled him from his seat and led him outside. It was, for winter, an uncharacteristically balmy evening, as if the gods had decided to bless their party with good weather for once. He suddenly hated balmy weather. It reminded him of her, of places where they had once been happy. Kathryn whom, he had heard, was going to marry her lover…
On the wide porch, B'Elanna made him sit down. She had removed the poinsettia from his grasp and placed it on the floor next to the swing seat. His eyes followed her movements, unwilling to disengage his gaze from the gift. A sudden thump against his arm made him sit up and look at B'Elanna.
"Now, Chakotay, you're going to tell me what's been bugging you all evening. Why the look? And Kahless! Your hand!" she exclaimed as she lifted his hand and gingerly touched his knuckles. "Who have you beaten up in the holosuites?"
He looked at his grazed knuckles and shrugged. After three days, they still looked raw and blistered. He hadn't bothered having them tended to.
"Annika Hansen." He was suddenly mad again. At Annika. At Kathryn.
"What!" B'Elanna cried out, shocked. "You beat up a hologram of Seven of Nine ?"
"No. I beat up Seven of Nine."
B'Elanna gave a long, low whistle and shook her head, seating herself next to him. "You had enough of her? You would strike a woman?" B'Elanna's instantaneous outrage was overshadowed by her incredulity.
Chakotay rubbed his knuckles gingerly.
"Annika didn't fight like a woman, Torres. And…" Chakotay gave a deep sigh. B'Elanna remained quiet, allowing him to wallow in his misery. It had happened only three days ago and he hadn't told a single soul about it.
He thought of the moment he had hit Annika in her home in Sweden. He thought of her terrible revelation, of everything that had gone right and gone wrong in his life on Voyager and after Voyager.
Annika had stood impassively in front of him. He had just informed her that he was going to find Kathryn and tell her about his feelings. He didn't care if Kathryn had stopped loving him, he was going to tell her that he’d never stopped loving her and that he was done having sleepless nights and endless dreams about her. Not that he ever wanted to stop dreaming about Kathryn, but it was time his dreams became reality and his reality was Kathryn. That was it. He could no longer live with Annika. He couldn't live a lie anymore so he told Annika he couldn't go on with her. He had stayed with her in the belief that Kathryn had never wanted him.
That was when Annika told him it would be no use trying to go back to Admiral Janeway, that Kathryn Janeway already had a man who warmed her bed. When he told her that what he did was his business, she dropped her kick-in-the-teeth revelation.
"Why would she want you? I told her of the baby we made together and that she should do the honourable thing and let you go…"
That shocked him to the core. A blinding anger was building up inside him as he listened to her words.
"You told Kathryn you were pregnant with my child? On Voyager? You told Kathryn that I was finished with her?"
"She fell for it, didn't she?"
The blinkers had come off his eyes at last. The reason for Kathryn's amazing volte-face that had stunned him during the last week travelling towards Earth, had fallen painfully into place. They had loved one another, loved but never touched. Kathryn had turned away from him, claiming that her path forward was to be without him, that there had never been anything between them but deep friendship, that - God help him - she hadn’t loved him after all.
Annika's insistence of her devotion to him had him in knots, and when Kathryn dumped him, he had turned to the fire and ice ex-Borg who showed him just how much he shouldn't miss Kathryn Janeway. He had lived with Annika then, drowning his sorrows in her arms, thinking, believing, that Kathryn was finished with him. With painful and embarrassing hindsight, he realised now how vulnerable he had been, allowing himself to be caught on the rebound, believing that Kathryn didn't love him anymore and rejected him, so he fell for someone who paid him attention.
Kathryn had walked away from everything they had and he? He had walked into folly, he realised with shame, as he bedded his new lover with so much fervour and mostly, anger. Annika never left his side in those dark days and when she had become pregnant, he had been overjoyed that, at last, he was going to have someone to love with his whole being after all. He cared for Annika only as much as he could take from her willing and supple warm body and sometimes, when he missed Kathryn too much, dreamed that she was Kathryn and then he loved Annika all over again.
But that bubble burst horribly too. Annika miscarried very prematurely, wrote off the incident as irrelevant and as much as told him they should get on with their lives and hopefully make another baby soon.
He hadn't had time to mourn what they’d lost and in the mist of his longing for Kathryn, imagined that it was she who had lost their baby and that was when he thought he'd die. Again.
"Yes, I told her," Annika had replied. "I told her that we were going to have a child together. I believed that you didn't love her as much as you could love me, be devoted to me. A small lie, Chakotay. I did get pregnant - "
Annika had looked a little despondent, mainly because they hadn't had sex in a while or when they had, his sullen, cynical entry into her body, making love to her while he was thinking of Kathryn, must have affected her.
"You lied to Kathryn…and you lied to me?"
The anger had begun to boil in him, from that moment. From the pit of his stomach it rose and filled his body - a raging, blind fury that made him see Annika finally in her full despicable betrayal and conniving deceit.
"I've lost three years of my life!!!" he hissed.
His hand had snaked out and made contact with Annika's cheek so hard that the surprise of the attack caught her off balance and caused her to sail unceremoniously across the floor of the living room, upending the coffee table. She had banged her head against the wall and even in his crazed induced anger, he thought how it bounced back from the wall. His palm burned from the hard slap, but hardly had he time to think about striking women, than Annika was up and lunging at him.
They fought, and those times her fist didn't punch the wind from his gut, it snapped his head back. He felt his jaw snap as she held his head and brought her knee up and thumped him hard. He had no time to think of niceties and women then, seeing Annika only as a ruthless predator who fought with equal intensity. She had cunning. His only instinct had been about left and right jabs, left hook and pile-driving punches. His nose was bleeding, so was hers. Then suddenly her face had presented a wide target as she dropped her arms. He pulled his arm back as far as he could before landing a stinging punch against her jaw. He heard the crack as her head had snapped back. He watched dazedly the sudden sagging, surprised look on Annika's face before she slipped to the floor, unconscious.
He was still angry during the return to Voyager in his shuttle, and on the bridge where Lieutenant Rollins gave him a jaundiced look but dared not ask questions. He was finished with Seven of Nine, had not looked back from that moment he had left her lying unconscious on the floor of her living room. She was Borg. She would survive. She would, he knew, also not pester him again. For all he cared, she could go to Vulcan and pester Tuvok and his family for lodgings.
"You're still mad at Seven of Nine, Chakotay," he heard B'Elanna say.
Her voice pulled him to the present. He thought about her words.
"N-no…" he started, "more mad at myself, I guess. I've been a prize fool - "
"Who didn't mind bedding a Borg once the captain told him to buzz off?"
"Dammit, Torres. I'm a - "
" - man. Yeah, with a man's needs to have a bed warmer."
"Okay. Torres. If you weren't carrying Owen Paris Junior…"
"What, you'd floor me with your left hook?"
"Sorry. I deserve your anger. I've not been a good person. Kathryn…I believed her, you know? She…negated everything…everything… I wasn't very manly then, letting her walk away from me…"
"And you should know better than anyone else how well Kathryn Janeway can mask her feelings. I'm sorry too, that things didn't work out. I think everyone felt disappointed."
He sat staring at B'Elanna, his eyes traveling to her swollen belly, the hand that gently caressed it. A vision of Kathryn holding a baby came to him. He wanted to punch Annika on the jaw again.
"It's over between us, B'Elanna. Annika will never bother me again," he said with great feeling.
B'Elanna smiled, her old familiar angry smile, that one that he always knew was B'Elanna wanting to defend him to the death and punch Annika Hansen on his behalf. He had been blind, stupid, wasted three years. But then…he hadn't wanted to face Kathryn's open rejection again...
"Your gift, Chakotay," B'Elanna started, her hand resting on his, "it unsettled you, I guess."
He looked down, then bent to lift the potted poinsettia. Its bracts were red, a bright blood red.
"Even if she didn't draw my name, I would have known this was from her…" he said, his voice breaking. "Yes…I would have known…"
"Then it's something special, right?"
"Yes. It's a poinsettia. There is a legend about this flower, B'Elanna, something Kathryn understood."
"Are you going to see her?"
"If it means breaking the rules and taking Voyager to Bajor, then yes, I'll go to her."
"On Christmas Eve…"
Chakotay looked around him. The porch had been lined with coloured lights, a large Christmas wreath adorned with poinsettias against the front door. Suddenly, he wanted to go, to be with Kathryn, to charge fearlessly through his own reserve and sick dread of rejection and just stare her down and tell her that she'd better love him or else. Even if she had a man by her side, just so long as she knew his own feelings had never changed.
"I'd better be gone," he said hurriedly, getting up, holding the poinsettia in the crook of his arm.
"You're gonna tell me the legend?" B'Elanna asked.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because," he said as he made for the front door, "I'm part of the legend..."
He muttered his excuses to the Paris family and when he stood outside his shuttle, turned to look around him. B'Elanna stood outside on the porch again after she had followed him inside.
"Chakotay! Wait!" she yelled.
"I'm going to find Kathryn!" he yelled back.
"She's not on Bajor anymore!"
"What?"
"Not on Bajor anymore."
"Don't worry, B'Elanna. She's not getting away from me this time.!"
************************
When B'Elanna re-entered the lounge, all eyes were on her. There was a hush in the room. Then suddenly, as if on cue, they all burst out laughing. B'Elanna had tears in her eyes eventually and after she plonked herself next to Tom, had him wipe her cheeks.
"Did you tell him?" Admiral Paris asked after he too managed to calm down.
"He never gave me a chance!"
"Maybe he knows?" ventured Jenny Delaney.
"Chakotay? I don't think so," replied Susan.
"But he'll get her," said Mrs Paris sagely. Then she turned to face her husband and gave him a chiding look. "That was a rather underhand thing to do, my love. A nice thing, but still underhand."
"Elizabeth, my love, our Captain Chakotay just needed a little nudge in the right direction. How was I to know Kathryn would use a silly plant to tell him her message, whatever that message was?"
"So, Admiral Paris," Susan Nicoletti, her arm through her husband's, ventured gamely, "what did you do?"
And the old admiral, his hair no longer so grey and his face less wrinkled and his smile much more amenable that it had ever been in his life, rolled his eyes a little, looked innocent like a child and in child-like innocence remarked, "Me? My dear, I'm an admiral and grandfather, not a matchmaker."
"Oh. Okay."
Tom laughed again. "Boy, I'd really like to be a fly on the wall when Janeway and Chakotay have a showdown."
"And what a showdown it's going to be," replied B'Elanna, rubbing her belly gently. "Boy, you should have seen Chakotay's face. He's a man with a mission, now that that… Why, did you know he boxed the Borg out of existence?"
"He struck a woman?" Mrs Paris senior asked, aghast.
"No ma'am," B'Elanna retorted fiercely. "He struck a Borg. And let me tell you, there's a hell of a difference between a Borg and a woman."
"The poinsettia," someone in the room asked, "what is its meaning?"
"Something about true love," said Tom. "Something about true love…"
"And Admiral Janeway? Is she really on Bajor?" asked Jenny Delaney.
"Well, she was there, and that's all I'm prepared to say," said Admiral Paris. "Now, shall we enjoy the rest of the evening, hmmm?"
******
PART TWO: WHAT KATIE DID… and Katie never lied…
Three weeks earlier…
"You'll have to spend Christmas on your own, Kathryn," Phoebe said through their vidcom link. "Darya and I have decided to visit her family on Kaltor IV. They settled there, remember?"
Kathryn nodded, feeling more and more despondent as she stared at the face of her sister. So, no Phoebe and no mother, either. She had been invited to a Christmas Eve exchange of gifts at the home of Admiral Paris and his wife. Only this morning had come the notice of her draw. She had taken one look at the name and gave a shrug. She had to think up a brilliant excuse not to attend that one. She was still technically on duty on Bajor . That made it easy.
"That's alright, Phoebe. It's just that Mom also - "
"Yeah, I know. Who would have thought our sweet, no nonsense mother would marry Starfleet's oldest bachelor and then spend an extended honeymoon in a land far, far away?"
"Well, I should have known. I'll be on Risa then, Phoebs. The negotiations ended much sooner than I thought. Almost as if…" She thought about it. Was it a ploy on Admiral Paris's part? Shrugging, she told Phoebe, "No point in going home when there's no one to go home to, is there?"
"The dogs?" Phoebe responded, tongue-in-cheek. "So…what happened to Mister Nice Guy Admiral Avery Benazir?"
"Still in the picture, Phoebs. And don't you go worrying about. me. I'll just string a few coloured lights in my lounge window and stick a poinsettia wreath on my door. I'll take the dogs…" Mentioning the dogs made her stick out her tongue at her sister for being too damned perceptive.
"The dogs, huh."
"Yes, Phoebe, the dogs. Now stop being so nosy and go home!"
"Fine! I'll go home and forget your present which you'll collect only in May next year. Love you…"
Kathryn's eyes were warm as Phoebe's face vanished from the screen and the blue Federation insignia stared back at her. She gave a deep sigh and was about to get up when two hands gently squeezed her shoulders. Another sigh followed and she leaned back into the waiting arms of her partner.
"Phoebe?" came his question.
"Hmmm… I won't be seeing her at Christmas. I was hoping we'd all be together…"
"I…see."
Kathryn turned, rose slowly and looked at Avery Benazir. He was greying at the temples. Her mission on Bajor had been concluded successfully and she had a week's grace before heading back to Headquarters… Either Headquarters or straight to Risa. Avery waited, his arms wrapped round her, his dark brown eyes expectant.
"Avery…"
"We've spent some good times on Risa before, Kathryn," he said in his melodious voice. "You'd could spend a few days there. I could keep you company…"
Avery's smile broke his severe looks. Handsome in an admiral kind of way, she thought absently as she leaned against his chest. Her relationship with Avery was special, private, discreet. They never flaunted it, keeping it away from Starfleet prying eyes. To a very large degree, they had been successful and had enjoyed each other's company. Avery had no children; widowed for more than ten years, he had had no inclination to invest in a serious relationship again. He was a great conversationalist, had a sharp wit and had a catholic taste in reading. He was also never intrusive. It was an unspoken arrangement that needed no grand declarations of love, just a quiet retreat from time to time, mostly on Risa. She had met him soon after Voyager's return and had at first just tentatively warmed to this tall gentle man who understood that she carried baggage, who understood that that baggage was still there…
He never questioned her about it, but he was an admiral. He was in Starfleet and word of her associations before and during their Voyager years had reached him too. In the beginning he had just listened, enjoyed her company as she had enjoyed his. It was good, having a friend who could listen to her, who made no demands on her, who waited until she was ready to initiate something.
And she did. Two years ago, after a friendship of a year, they consummated their relationship. The occasions they had slept together had no major fireworks, but he was a kind, gentle, generous lover who had endless patience with her. She had not expected fireworks, yet their lovemaking had been good and it soothed her wounded soul, helping her to accept what she had known to be inevitable.
"I'll have to think about it, Avery," she said softly, the lie drowned in the sincerity of her voice. She wanted to be alone on Risa this time. There were just too many things that crowded her, and none more than choosing a gift which would speak what had been hidden in her heart for so long. None more than Christmas time which managed to unhinge her more than she'd care to admit.
"Don't take too long, okay? It's Christmas in three weeks and I'd like to be with you always, you know…"
She gave a delicate sigh. She knew he was going to ask her to marry him. It was in his bearing, in the tender way they had made love the previous night. It didn't matter that he had to work so hard and she had to concentrate so hard on foreplay, on patient teasing of her core to experience orgasms. What did it matter? When it was over, he always scooped her in his arms and they'd lie in that position for as long as they could before they'd settle into a spooning position. He'd whisper her name in the minutes before sleep overtook them both.
He loved her, she knew. If only…
Another sigh escaped. They were in a remote city of Bajor, and he had joined her only two days ago. They'd have a week together… This time of the year was the time of aching, of desperate, secret longing. Avery's presence, his tenderness, his gentle loving soothed her immeasurably. Who knew? Perhaps…she could love him after all…
"Let's go to bed, Avery," she whispered, nuzzling her face in his neck, enjoying the feel of his light stubble.
"Ah…Kathryn…" he said gruffly as he pulled her tighter against him. "I love you, you know…"
"I know," she whispered again and the moment his mouth claimed hers, she felt a blinding flash as desire ripped through her. In a mist of emotions she gave herself over to the ministrations of Avery.
For a fleeting moment, it was not Avery's face that looked at her as he carried her to their bed…
******
Risa was an M-class planet located in a binary star system, with two moons. A member of the United Federation of Planets, Risa was transformed by her inhabitants from a jungle world with great seismic instability to a first class pleasure planet with ideal weather conditions controlled by a sophisticated weather control network. Many Starfleet officers and peoples from other homeworlds used Risa as their preferred tourist destination. No matter that its female inhabitants displayed open sexuality, visitors enjoyed the perfect tropical conditions and superb beaches.
Kathryn's journey from Bajor to Risa had taken four days traveling at maximum warp in her private shuttle that had been stored in the shuttle bays of the USS Normandy. She'd be here for Christmas, but after that it was back to Earth, literally, to resume her duties at Starfleet Headquarters. A well earned respite from the gruelling negotiations she and other Starfleet members had engaged in with ambassadors from Bajor's neighbouring homeworlds, she had completed her contribution ahead of schedule and had almost three weeks at her disposal. She had spent a week of it with Avery..
Lounging in a beach chair, Kathryn gazed at the blue ocean that reminded her so much of Earth's blue seas. At this moment, it was more silvery gold with the sunset and Risa's twin moons glowing orange-red on the horizon. It was why she had chosen Risa. The pull to home wasn't so great then, not so…intense. Her bungalow was nestled in a small copse with a narrow path that led down to her own secluded, private beach. It had cost considerable influence and finance to secure a private beach on one of the biggest islands on Risa. There were no disturbances, no people who accidentally strayed onto her property.
She liked her privacy; she liked most times to be alone. Only Avery had ever been here with her. This was her own little hideaway where she could spend her annual vacation and never worry about the weather, or the inevitable turmoil she always tried to leave behind. Risa had perfect weather year round, thanks to its controlled weather network. Here she could recharge, or drown herself in self-pity and self-recriminations and then lose herself in Avery's arms to forget her own pain.
It was unfair on Avery. But then, they had entered their relationship with open eyes, both fully aware that it could be transitory, that they make no demands on one another. It suited her and it suited Avery, for even as he loved her, he understood her reticence to commit.
Last week on Bajor, he had said goodbye. It was his final goodbye. Kathryn closed her eyes as she thought of their last conversation.
"I've accepted a commission," he had said quietly, his golden eyes serious, direct. "A five year tenure to act as ambassador on Kedron IV - "
"But that's deep in the Gamma Quadrant!" she had exclaimed, almost shocked at her own disappointment that he was leaving, that he was leaving her…that he was leaving because of her.
"Yes, it is. I realise, Kathryn, that I’ve wanted more from us, but that it was not fair to you. I think in the circumstances it will be best for both of us. I love you, but while a certain Starfleet captain is still around, albeit currently involved in a relationship, I'm not strong enough to fight ghosts. I never thought I'd admit to not being strong enough, but there it is. What we had was good, Kathryn, and I shall always be grateful for that."
Her eyes had filled with a sheen of tears while he spoke and when he finished, she had hugged him fiercely, fiercely.
"I'll miss you, Avery. If I - "
"Then you're welcome to make your way to Kedron IV…" he had said with a sad smile, a smile that held a certain knowledge that it wouldn't happen.
"Thank you. I wish I could tell you to rethink your decision, but I guess you're not going to change your mind…"
"No. I'm quite looking forward to this mission, Kathryn. It will…help me…"
"I understand," she had said, and it was true. She did understand. She realised with aching shame how much she had underestimated the depth of his feelings for her. Avery was a good man, a gentleman. She didn't want to hurt him.
"Come here," he said gently, "let me take one last look at you…"
His hands on her shoulders, he held her, gazed deeply into her eyes. His own golden brown eyes were clear, sober. It was a long, contemplative look.
"Avery…?"
"I hope that you will be happy, Kathryn, that you be graced by Joy, for no other reason than that you deserve happiness. Don't think I never noticed…"
She had thrown herself against him then, his arms enfolding her in a comforting gesture. She was sad that Avery was going. She was sad that she was going to be alone again.
She had been filled with conflicting emotions - losing Avery and knowing that she'd miss him. Yet those feelings were overshadowed by a great relief too, that it was over, that it was Avery himself who ended it. She had not wanted to hurt him, had not wanted to walk away from him like she had done once before, with Chakotay.
Yes, she had felt a certain relief that it was over, accepting that only lonely nights awaited her. It had been hard making one relationship work. Now, all she wanted to was to be left alone.
Unable to settle down, Kathryn got up and swam out to sea. The shallow ocean bed allowed her to swim out quite far in even strokes, tilting her head sideways on every fourth stroke to breathe. When she was tired, her chest burning with the unaccustomed exercise, she turned and floated on her back for a while until her breathing became even again. She stared at the clear sky with long streaks of cirrus clouds in spectacular reddish shades in the setting suns. Her eyes closed in the benevolent beauty. One moment when she felt like sinking, she realised that she must have dozed off a second. She swam back to shore, long, lazy strokes in the balmy warm water. Later she lounged again on her beach chair, looking out over the ocean, a lonely silhouette against the setting suns and the golden moons of Risa.
Her mind was in a turmoil, she admitted silently to herself. Admiral Paris had called two days ago via subspace communication and asked about her gift.
"Even if you don't come, Katie," he had said in that obnoxiously wheedling tone of his, "just your gift will be an indication of your intent."
"Thank you, Owen. I haven't thought of what to give yet so give me a day or two, okay? I'll then forward it to you…"
"That's my girl. It's time to get a move on…"
"What…?"
"Get a move…make a move…do something, for heaven's sake!"
"About what, Admiral Paris?"
"Now don't 'Admiral Paris' me, young lady. You know precisely what I mean. It's time to take charge of your life, Kathryn. Benazir must be out of the picture… Come to think of it, he never was in the picture - "
She had shut communication right then at that moment and had been angry at herself and Admiral Paris for losing her cool. She had taken charge of her life when she met Avery. She felt it was impolite to belittle Avery's presence in her life. Seconds later her vidcom beeped again.
"My profoundest apologies, Kathryn, for being a prize boor," Admiral Paris said apologetically.
He really looked ashamed of what he had said. She had nodded quietly. Admiral Paris was one of the very few individuals who was aware of just how deeply she and Avery Benazir had been involved even if it didn't quite meet with his approval. Then, she didn't need anyone's approval. Her mother and stepfather liked and admired Avery.
"Apology accepted, Admiral," came her whispered pardon. There had been no need to tell him that Avery had left her and that it was over between them.
"I want your gift on my desk by morning. Is that fine by you?" he asked, relieved that the uncomfortable moment had passed.
"Yes. Make my apologies once again, Admiral. But you do understand I cannot be there, don't you?"
"I do indeed. I wish things had been different, Kathryn. You're like a daughter to me and all I want for my children is that they be happy…"
His words warmed her heart. She was being churlish and understood that he too, like Phoebe, like her mother and new stepfather, wanted to see her happy.
"That is very, very gracious of you, Admiral. Thank you…"
*************
Her gift had been sent.
She hadn't known what to get her recipient. Just knowing that Chakotay was the one to receive her gift had sent her into mild turmoil all over again. She knew the gift exchange was not a secret exchange in the strictest sense and liked the idea of each guest standing with the recipient's gift and delivering with it an inspirational message, of peace and goodwill, of gracious blessings to the person receiving it.
Why hadn't she pressed a different key with a different name to it? Why? How unlucky could she get? Did the gods take revenge on her for walking out on Chakotay?
In the first year of their journey in the Delta Quadrant, he had given her a collection of poems by a twentieth century poet, Margaret Atwood. Every year it was something, something precious. And he had been creative, thoughtful in what he had given her. She still treasured the nineteenth century watch and chain he had given her on her birthday.
Now, it was impossible to think of something that didn't make a noise, loudly proclaim grand exclamations of devotion and loyalty, that was generic enough to be inconspicuous. He was still attached. She didn't want to tread anywhere near them. She had heard that Seven of Nine had miscarried their first baby as well as had a second miscarriage. She felt for Chakotay, for she knew how much it would have meant to him to have a son or daughter. It had been sheer punishment the first two years at Owen Paris's home with them present, although it was a little easier as her recipients had been B'Elanna and Harry respectively. Now it was Chakotay.
It was bad enough that she had to be Admiral Kathryn Janeway who sent him on new missions into deep space, particularly now that the Delta Flyer was properly equipped with transwarp drive. When it came to personal matters such as giving him something long after they had separated, it was agonizing. On the face of it all, they each had a role to play and she played hers to perfection.
What could she give him? What?
Avery was no longer in her life and her new, if reluctant, freedom gave her more time to mull over what she had lost, what she had thrown away. She even entertained, however flawed the sentiment sounded, visions of a grand reconciliation with Chakotay. Those were simply dreams, bubbles that burst and awakened her to reality. Chakotay and Seven of Nine were together, inseparable. Kathryn felt a stab of pain and clutched at her bosom. Even now, three years later, Seven's announcement of their coming child still managed to drive deep stakes right through her heart, making her cry out in pain. It had been the hardest thing she had had to do - letting Chakotay go so that he could do the honourable thing and be a father to his unborn child.
What to give him so that it wouldn't look to Seven that she was lusting after someone else's man?
She had looked about her, trying to get inspiration from the leafy wooded area with its Risian orchids that bloomed colourful and large and appeared like glowing lights in the semi-dark. The planet abounded in lush plant life and exotic blooms. She remembered the hydroponics bay on Voyager with its collection of plants and fruits from other worlds. A few were from Earth, its seeds contained in the storage depots of the exobiologists on board. Chakotay had cultivated a…
That was when it hit her. She knew now what to give and it was right in her office at Starfleet Headquarters. The beauty of it was that it was blooming this time of the year.
"Admiral," she could hear the voice of her aide, Lieutenant Schilling, "what kind of flower is this?" He had pointed to the potted plant that graced a small stand in the corner of her office. When it had been presented to her, it was still in its infant growth stage, with none of the blood red bracts that could be seen in the adult plant. Many people mistook the red leaves for petals…
Chakotay didn't.
It was her only public link with the man she loved. Her heart had burned at the memories it evoked and which she tried to repress ruthlessly. She treasured her poinsettia, never wished to part with it, had sometimes, in unguarded moments, even whispered to the plant of her feelings for the one who had given it to her. And sometimes, perhaps it was her imagination - she thought she'd hear the plant whisper back to her. The red bracts quivered as if her breath had moved them.
If I gave him the poinsettia…
And so she sent instructions via subspace to her aide at Headquarters that a red bow be tied round the brown earthenware pot and handed to Admiral Paris as her contribution to the gift exchange at his home on Christmas Eve. She knew Chakotay and Seven of Nine would be there… Bajor had become a good excuse not to attend…
*
The calling bird of Risa woke her from her reverie. It had grown almost dark now, with the moons a deep red in the Risian sky. Sighing, she packed her things, leaving her chair and umbrella on the beach and slowly made her way back to her bungalow. It was a warm, balmy evening. She could spend it soaking in a tub, or reading. She could visit one of the resorts, but she felt in no mood to have people around her.
Christmas day had come and was almost gone. Who else but Earth's humans who celebrated this day would find significance in it, anyway? No one else cared. No one cared. She missed Avery's company. She missed Chakotay more.
He was not hers to miss…
On an impulse, she decided to use the large tub that stood in a small clearing near the bungalow. She’d had workmen build it exactly to the specifications of the tub Chakotay had built for her on New Earth, only a little larger. She wanted to stretch as much as she liked in it.
Fifteen minutes later, she relaxed in her tub, with the calling birds' song the only sound. She whipped up the suds until only her head and arms were clear of them. Sighing, she lay back and closed her eyes… It had been a long, lazy day. She had managed a little Christmas dinner, toasted to the goodwill and well-being of no one in particular. As soon as she tired of soaking in the warm suds of her tub, she'd be off to bed, reading Margaret Atwood until her eyes drooped. Hopefully this time, there'd be no image of a man with a tattoo impinging on her consciousness in the seconds before tumbling into sleep.
"Damn you, Chakotay…" she whispered.
****************
PART THREE: STAKING A CLAIM…in full battle gear, boots 'n' all…
"That was as easy as pie, Captain," said Mika Ayala, "I don't even think Admiral Janeway intended to keep her whereabouts a secret after the Bajor talks…"
"How can I thank you?" Chakotay asked the smiling face on the screen.
"By staying away from work and enjoying your vacation? The one you're about to spend with Kathryn Janeway. We'll see you then in one month, Captain," Mike Ayala said cheerfully just before his image vanished from the viewscreen of the Delta Flyer.
Chakotay didn't return Ayala's smile, nor did he share his Security Chief's ebullient mood. He was in no mood to be humoured and wished only to get started on his journey as soon as possible. But Mike had given him the co-ordinates of Kathryn's whereabouts.
He had no idea that she owned property on Risa, believing that she only spent the odd vacation there, like most Starfleet brass. Risa was, compared to the distances they traveled in the Delta Quadrant, a stone's throw away at 90 light years. The Risians had done remarkable work in transforming their planet from a wilderness with strong seismic disturbances to a tropical paradise with beaches that rivalled the best tropical havens on Earth. He never had the inclination himself to vacation on Risa and it surprised him that Kathryn had actually invested in property there. Probably after hooking up with Admiral Avery Benazir. That hurt like hell, knowing that Kathryn had found herself a man so soon after she dumped him, her trusted friend, confidant, so-called beloved. Yes. It hurt like hell. So he’d stayed with Annika, made her pregnant again, a pregnancy that resulted in another miscarriage. He stayed with her until he could no longer ignore the yearning for Kathryn, which flamed in a fire more intense at Christmas time. Kathryn's gift told him what he had only wondered about for years and he was now going to her with renewed hope.
The Delta Flyer would take him to her.
It was Kathryn and Tuvok, along with Doctor Leah Brahms and Tom Paris, who had researched the possibilities of transwarp for the Delta Flyer. Now, Tom's baby was the only vessel fitted with transwarp technology as a test vessel. He didn't have to ask permission to take the Delta Flyer. A trip to Utopia Planitia, a quick and urgent promise to Leah Brahms and the bird was his to command anywhere in Federation space.
In Delta Flyer terms, Risa was spitting distance away.
Chakotay turned to look at the rear, beyond the cockpit area where he had secured Kathryn's gift to him. The gift that made going to her and staking his claim the right thing to do. Kathryn couldn't possibly know what had happened between him and Seven of Nine four days ago. He didn't think anyone present at yesterday's gift exchange dinner at Palings would have gotten in touch with Kathryn to inform her he was a free man. What good would it have done anyway? As much as he could fantasize that Kathryn should drop Admiral Avery Benazir now that Seven of Nine was no longer in the picture, that spoke of gross arrogance on his part. But suddenly it didn't matter to him whether she was still spoken for, he had to tell her that he understood the significance of her gift.
And this time, he was really going to storm her defences. She had believed Annika Hansen three years ago and had acted in the manner of officers and gentlemen, doing the honourable thing and stepping out of his life. She believed that she had done the right thing at the time.
Even now, as he thought about Annika's deceit, he felt like ramming his fist in her gut again. Annika hadn't bothered to contact him again and he didn't care anymore. Now it was just thoughts of Kathryn…Kathryn…Kathryn…
As he initiated the start-up procedure, he thought how Kathryn's eyes had gone soft and warm the day he had given her the poinsettia. He had started the potted plant very early in the year and by Christmas, it was in full bloom, its bracts a brilliant red.
"This must mean something, Chakotay," she had said softly, that Christmas morning on Voyager, their fourth year in the Delta Quadrant.
"It does, Kathryn. But I won't tell you now…"
"And why not, Commander?" she asked with a little crooked smile.
"It is a simple gift, given with a true heart."
She had gone quiet a long time, then looking at him with her blue-grey eyes, whispered, "And a true heart shall receive it…"
In the years following, Kathryn had diligently cared for her plant, for it required great care to flower every year at Christmas. Many times when they had dinner in her quarters, his eyes would invariably steal to where it had pride of place on a stand next to her desk. They had an understanding. A silent, unspoken understanding of love, of waiting, of knowing that when they returned home one day, they'd at last be able to express openly what had been respectfully kept back.
When they returned home, Kathryn's heart wasn't true after all. That's what he believed.
Now his hope flared bright like the binary suns of Risa.
*
Within seconds, he left McKinley Station where Voyager was undergoing maintenance work overseen by Mike Ayala and Ken Dalby. He engaged impulse power and kept that velocity for an hour. He needed to think, to strategise, to mull once again over Annika's duplicity. He had not known, and was a fool for not knowing, what had really transpired between Annika and Kathryn at the time.
Annika did become pregnant, twice, and she had miscarried twice. He had not been given time to feel sorry for her, to commiserate with her because she had taken such a jaded view of the whole experience. It made him realise, belatedly, that Seven of Nine had never really been excited about pending motherhood, like he had seen B'Elanna with her second child, or Susan with her first baby. Even Harry had become excited and over the moon when his wife Libby fell pregnant. Annika had simply informed him she was to have their child, as if it had been a discussion of an item on a supermarket shelf.
Sighing, he pulled his thoughts away from Annika Hansen. She was gone from his life now.
Looking at the panel in front of him, with the toggle switches Tom had installed "so I can still have old-fashioned control of my baby", he began entering co-ordinates. It would take him only a few minutes to reach the binary system of Risa. Even so, it was already Christmas day, the latter part of it anyway. He had sent good wishes to the Parises, to Harry and Libby, to most of his senior staff on Voyager.
Now all he had to do was to wish Kathryn peace and goodwill for the season.
"Well, Kathryn," he whispered to himself, his voice echoing in the cockpit, "you're in for a big surprise…"
Chakotay engaged transwarp drive. He braced himself and seconds later he felt disembodied as the sheer power of movement propelled him forward. He must have lost consciousness for a millisecond only. Although he had experienced transwarp in test flights before, the sense of disembodiment still gave him a thrill.
Awareness came slowly; when he opened his eyes it was to see the moons of Risa, with the planet in stark, sheer silence greeting him.
Soon he set about touching down quite close to Kathryn's private landing area. A simple lock on to her communicator badge gave him her precise co-ordinates. His heart was pumping, but he had come prepared. If she threw him out, he wasn't going to budge. He was going to stand up to her and demand she listen to him. What did it matter if Benazir was still in her life? The man wasn't there now, was he?
*****
Kathryn shifted languidly in the tub as she opened her eyes. Had she heard something? She expected no visitors and there were no primates on Risa that could surprise her as the one on New Earth had. Besides, she had been ensured total privacy by the Risian Council.
The only light came from the windows of the two front rooms of her bungalow. Yet, the slight feeling of disquiet began to take hold of her as the oversized fronds of the Risian palms moved in the still evening, as if someone had brushed past them.
"Hello? Is there anyone there?" she asked as she moved to take the bath wrap that was hooked on the side of the tub. Her heart started beating fast. Her phaser was locked away in her bedroom. Any other possible weapon like a dagger or a knife was too far out of reach. What if there was an intruder?
For some reason she remained in the tub, hands on her towel, ready to climb out, waiting for…what? she wondered as the silence descended on her little clearing again. She released the towel and sagged back against the tub, enjoying the warm water, moaning with pleasure as her body relaxed again.
Suddenly Kathryn heard a sound. Different from earlier, like a twig breaking, a footfall perhaps. Her eyes flew open. Her hand grabbed for the towel again. This time she was ready to jump out.
"Who is there?" she asked.
She peered into the darkness, facing in the direction of the side of the bungalow. Kathryn closed her eyes, opened them again. Was it possible that in the shadow play of Risian palm fronds there was another shadow? Then she froze.
A figure stood about ten metres away from her, blending with the verdant growth of trees and plants. The shadow. How long had he been standing there? For a moment she considered getting out of the tub and running as fast as she could to get her phaser, but all thought of arming herself was aborted the moment the figure stepped forward, then stopped again. A serious face, an angry, furious face. The outline of a tattoo gleamed in the light from the windows. An Angry Warrior tattoo.
Kathryn froze, dropped the towel for the second time. She went cold, felt the heat draining from her face. He held in his hands a potted plant, the beautiful poinsettia she kept in her office at Headquarters. He looked so familiar, so rugged, dressed in his Maquis leathers.
"You!"
*******************
The very first time Chakotay had seen Kathryn lying in a tub had been on New Earth. He had built the tub for her because she liked to soak in one, especially after a gruelling day searching for a cure, or trying to find the insect from which they had contracted their disease. One evening she had been so tired, her muscles so tense that he had massaged them for her. He had wanted to bury his face in her luxuriant hair then, wanted to inhale her fragrance for he had been mesmerized by her.
That was the night he had told her about the legend of the Angry Warrior. That was the night he had finally admitted to himself that he loved her deeply. He had sworn that he'd stay by her side forever.
Yes, exactly like she was reclining now, he had seen her many a night on New Earth, most times completely at ease with him in her semi-nude state. He saw her now, her eyes closed, totally lost in her own world. He thought the only thing missing was the primate. For several minutes he enjoyed observing her, seeing again the sheen of her alabaster skin that had so caused his breathlessness then. He felt again the constriction in his chest, the burn, the old aching that resurfaced spontaneously.
There was no other lifesign here, he had determined earlier before touching down. It was a wonder Kathryn didn't hear anything. Then again, the landing site was hidden, a hundred metres away from her bungalow. He had walked here, making sure that he tread as quietly as possible. Evidently, Kathryn wasn't alerted to any danger. Her surroundings, the ambience of this place, her safety measures set up with the Risian Council must have made her feel comfortable enough not to suspect anything.
Her hair was wet, swept back. He could see the soft swell of her breasts. A choking sound escaped him and he stumbled forward one step. A twig snapped.
Damn!
He heard Kathryn's gasp, then her voice.
He stepped forward, away from the large fronds that hid him earlier. The poinsettia was clutched in both hands. He saw Kathryn grabbing her towel.
"You!" came her cry, in half surprise, half shock.
He walked slowly towards her until he stood close enough to the tub that his leg touched it.
"Good evening, Kathryn."
She stared at the poinsettia in his hand.
"I see you got my gift."
His felt his mouth go dry. The woman was driving him crazy. Her skin attracted him. He could smell wild rose and lavender crystals, other fragrances that eluded him, but at the same time assaulted his senses.
"A gift, however humble or insignificant," he started, "if given with love, will be received with love."
"What if I didn't mean it?" she asked, her arms resting on the sides of the tub.
At that moment he lost it, beset by anger that even now she was trying to evade crucial issues. She drove him mad. He put the poinsettia down on the ground next to her, then stood up straight again.
"Shift, Kathryn!" he commanded, one hand gripping the edge of her tub, lifting one booted leg.
"Chakotay, what the hell do you think you're doing?" she cried out in alarm.
It was too late. He climbed into the tub, fully clothed, boots and all. She moved her tender feet away just in time. Water displaced with great fury and splashed all over them as he sank down in the tub, is face and shoulders caked with soap suds and bubbles drifting away. Kathryn spluttered, crying out again.
"Chakotay!!"
He wasn't listening to her. Instead, he grabbed the sides of her head, pulled her roughly closer so that their noses almost touched. He saw the momentary fear in her eyes, but also something else - wild imaginings, expectation, rapture. She was breathless and breathtaking. He glued his gaze to speak to Fear.
"Now listen here, Kathryn Janeway. You threw me away once before. It's not going to happen again, get that?"
He watched her reaction, watched how fear receded. The wild imaginings remained. She tried to nod her head, but he held her too tightly. He shook it for her, shook and shook, every shake punctuated by his impassioned promise.
"I - love - you, Kathryn. And - you - love me. Your gift - was your - message. You gave it to me in love, and I accept it with love, get - that?"
Kathryn tried to move her head again. He relaxed his grip, just enough for her to nod. Her lips trembled, her eyes became moist. Her lips….goddammit…her lips...wild honey and roses...goddammit!
"I've been so alone…" Kathryn managed in small sobs.
He blinked in the onslaught of her voice, the lips that invited, that he imagined had just crushed a strawberry, the sweet nectar dripping down her chin…inviting him to lick. He wanted to eat her right then, a water nymph who ensnared him. The water smelled of rose petals. He was drowning…drowning…!
Then he remembered what she had just said and mentally shook himself. Her eyelashes were wet with tears, pearl-shaped diamonds that perched tantalisingly before falling down.
"You'll never be alone again. I made a promise, remember?"
Her lips were so close to his, delectable, rosy, warm lips. When she murmured softly 'yes', it was all he needed to act.
He kissed her furiously, the passion instantaneous as ripples of ecstasy shot through him as he drank wild honey and roses. He broke off the kiss long enough to stare at her with glazed, crazed eyes, to notice the same gleam of passion in hers, locking on to her parted, swollen lips…
"Goddammit, Kathryn, I'm going to make love with you with my boots on!"
END