My Equal, and My Likeness
by Melissa
Author's Note: This story was written on assignment for the JetC Newsletter. It's a Valentine's Day tale, but it's probably not what you're expecting. Hell, it wasn't what I was expecting either--but since when do KJ and Chak do what we expect?
Disclaimer: These characters belong solely to Paramount. Don't worry, TPTB, I'm not planning on selling this story. You're not interested in what my characters do anyway.
The author gratefully acknowledges the "ruthless" editing of Jennifer Ferris, thanks JetC12 for recommending I cut out a scene that just didn't...er...cut it, and apologizes to the late Charlotte Bronte, for writing the line that I shamelessly lifted for the title.**
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St. Valentine's Day.
During his Academy days--their Academy days--the entertainment council had thrown a dance in celebration of the ancient Earth holiday, and he had gone with friends. It had been towards the end of his final year. He had been preoccupied with Nova Squadron and little else, and had spent most of the night huddled in a corner with his friends discussing the upcoming demonstration and subsequent graduation. Although he had hardly been celibate during those years, girls had been the last thing on his mind that night. Several had cast hopeful glances at the tall, handsome cadet who was surely headed for a glorious Starfleet career, but he had virtually ignored them that evening. There was no room in his life for love just then. Plenty of time to concentrate on it later.
Well over two decades later, he had plenty of time to concentrate on love. Plenty of time to think about it, to brood over it, to push aside thoughts about it during the day, and drift off to sleep wrapped in those same thoughts. He could certainly think about it all he liked, as Voyager plodded a course through the Delta Quadrant.
Plotted, not plodded, he corrected himself--although lately it certainly seemed like the latter. They hadn't seen anything more exciting than a Class 3 nebula in weeks. There had been plenty of time to dwell on ancient Terran holidays and love in general. Plenty of time to dwell on their life in the Delta Quadrant, and Kathryn, and Kathryn's protocol.
Kathryn's protocol meant years for both of them, loving but not loving, supporting but not holding up, public intimacy without the private relief. He knew her feelings for him extended far beyond the command structure. Just how far, he was unsure, but he could see the carefully shuttered longing in her gaze when she thought he wasn't looking; the relief when he returned from an away mission unscathed; the way her eyes would rest on him just a bit too long for propriety's sake when they chatted on the bridge. The frequency of her hands falling on his chest, his shoulders, his forearms. She knew how he felt. They had not discussed his feelings for years, but she knew he had not changed. He had made sure of that knowledge.
He sighed, picking up the pen again. He frowned down at the unfamiliar instrument. Of course, he had used one before, but after years of PADD exclusive communication the sensation of writing with ink was odd. Reluctantly he returned his mind to the task before him:
Writing out Valentines.
When Neelix has suggested the Valentine's Day party several weeks before, everyone had thought it was a wonderful idea. The whole crew had perked up and joined in the planning, even those who needed the holiday explained to them. Crewmen volunteered for cooking details. Paris had been working on the holodeck program for days. And Ensign H'Rhain in Hydroponics, after studying the Earth history database, had manufactured paper out of some obscure plant Kes had been growing. The ensign thought they should include the tradition of exchanging Valentines, which was still practiced on Earth by romantics and history buffs. With the help of several closet artists and little Naomi Wildman, H'Rhain had created enough of the cute little things for the whole crew. He had also decorated a large containment cylinder, intended as a "Valentine mailbox". At the party, guests would place their cards in the box and volunteers would later distribute them.
The party.
He and Kathryn had agreed to not only attend but to cohost the party that Neelix insisted the crew needed to alleviate weeks of boredom. How could they hurt the Talaxian's feelings when he had spent weeks researching the traditions and backgrounds of the obscure holiday? How could they disappoint the crew?
How could he stand beside Kathryn at a party celebrating love, and not be able to love openly?
One hand scrubbed roughly over his face as the pen clattered back to the desk, and then he started as the door chime sounded.
"Come," he said irritably, trying to stifle his wildly swinging mood. The door to his quarters slid open to admit B'Elanna Torres. "What?"
"Whoa, someone's in a cheery Valentine mood. Just stopped by to see if you wanted to walk to the party with me."
His head jerked up, over, to the chronometer on the wall. "Damn. Where did the time go?" He stood up, rotating one stiff shoulder. "Aren't you going with Helmboy?"
"Stow it, Chakotay, right in Cargo Bay Two."
He grinned in spite of himself. Cargo Bay Two on the old Maquis ship had been unstable and they had never been able to use it. Threatening to throw someone in it and open the airlock had been a staple of everyday conversation.
"Tom's finishing a shift in sick bay," Torres was continuing. "I told him I'd meet him on the holodeck."
"I'm ready," Chakotay said, reaching towards the desk for his cards.
"Um...some people may appreciate your attire...but may I recommend something a little more, say, demure?"
He looked down, realizing he wasn't wearing a shirt. "Oh...give me a second, B'Ela. Let me finish getting dressed."
He was nearly to the bedroom door when he heard her say, "You look good that way, old man."
"I'll show you who's old," he growled half-heartedly over his shoulder at her.
In his bedroom, he shrugged quickly into the deep crimson shirt he had chosen to pair with his wide-legged black trousers. He had no idea what Kathryn was wearing, although Neelix had urged them to wear "colors of the season." B'Elanna was wearing a long, casual red dress, so that probably meant the rest of the crew would do the same. He walked back into the living area, fastening up his shirt buttons, and stopped when he saw B'Elanna moving around by his desk.
"What are you doing?" A little louder and harsher than he intended. He moved next to her quickly, grabbing the cards from her hands and holding them to his stomach.
"Hey!" she laughed, holding up her hands. "Don't shoot! I thought I'd save you time and pile them together for you." Chakotay stared at her, and then nodded, turning back to the desk and busying himself with sorting. "Aren't you a little jumpy? Got one in there for the little girl next door?"
He froze, his heart suddenly pounding in his ears, and his hands clenched briefly before he fiercely got himself under control. His eyes met B'Elanna's, and he watched her as understanding dawned. Her gaze softened.
"Chakotay--I'm sorry--and you should know--"
"Sssh!" He held up a hand, the other clutching the cards. "I know what you want to say. Please don't. I'll take the sentiment as intended but I can't have a conversation about it."
"I wasn't going to." She stepped forward, touched his arm lightly. Like someone they both knew. "I just want to wish you well of it. We're all in your corner. I mean that."
He nodded, once, sharply. They stood together for a moment, each watching the other, communicating without words. Somewhere in the pile was a card for B'Elanna that said everything his eyes were saying now, but that was for later. A smile finally quirked his lips, and he gestured towards the pile of cards she had laid on the back of his couch. "May I assume the absurdly large one is for Tom, to match his ego?" One card, covered in lace and nearly twice the size of the others, rested on the bottom of her pile.
"No," she scowled. "It's from Harry to Seven. Even though it's an anonymous box, he wouldn't put it in himself. He talked me into it somehow."
An eyebrow lifted, beneath the tattoo. "Resistance is futile, B'Elanna."
A short bark of laughter escaped her lips, and she swatted him in the arm. "Worst jokes in the DMZ," she snapped, but her eyes smiled at him.
"Not worse than Tuvok's," they said together, and he waved an arm at the door. "After you, my friend."
* * *
The party was in full swing when they arrived, and they paused in the doorway to look over the assemblage for a minute. The holodeck doors opened onto the upper staircase of what looked like an old-fashioned hotel ballroom. A polished hardwood floor stretched out beneath them, and the room was lit by electric chandeliers. Across the gilded, curtained walls reached red, white and pink streamers and festoons, and balloons dotted the room in bunches. One wall was broken up by several sets of glass doors, one pair was opened to reveal a balcony. There were several tables set, and a long buffet line; at one end the floor was cleared and a band was setting up. Dancing. There would be dancing later. Prominently displayed in the middle of the room was the festively decorated Valentine box.
Standing next to the box, talking animatedly to Neelix, was Kathryn.
She turned her head, looked up at him, and raised her hand in greeting. He raised his own in answer, his gaze transfixed. And then he froze, and paled, his mind racing. Could he really do what he had come here to do? It would be simple to turn, leave the holodeck, lose the card in the recycler...
"Chakotay!"
"What?"
B'Elanna shook her head at him. "You're staring. Stop it. What's with you all of a sudden?" She held his gaze until the color returned to his face. "That's better. Now, come on, we've got to get rid of these things."
Chakotay let B'Elanna lead him down the stairs and across the floor, his thoughts whirling. Every step brought him closer to a resolution he wasn't sure he was ready for. He was usually pretty good at judging Kathryn's reactions--but in this case, he was lost. Completely lost.
"Hello, Commander."
At her low greeting, he searched her gaze--he wasn't sure what for. He saw warmth, and pleasure. She was glad to see him. He exhaled quietly, and mustered a warm smile for her. "Hello, Captain. Ready to host?"
She nodded, and he deposited his envelopes in the box. Turning back to B'Elanna briefly he said, "Crunch time." Both women laughed, but the half-Klingon's eyes sent another message. Imperceptibly he nodded, and then turned and followed Kathryn across the floor to the buffet line.
"So, Chakotay, did you write out a Valentine to Neelix telling him how much you love his leola root?"
"I wrote him a sonnet on it."
He watched her laugh, felt the sound wrap itself around him. Relaxed. Happy. It was his favorite picture of her, and it was even better when he was the cause. He handed her a plate off the top of the pile with a flourish to hide his growing trepidation. Hopefully after she read his card she would still be smiling. They moved along the table slowly, dishing up one selection after another. He dumped a large spoonful of roasted vegetables on her plate, admonishing her about getting enough vitamins. She pushed playfully on his arm, advising him to take extra dessert to sweeten his disposition. He could have spent the whole night with her that way, but they had scarcely sat down to eat before Neelix was calling them to officially begin the party. Before either of them knew what was going on, the Talaxian had ushered them to a small podium and handed each a PADD.
"What's this?" asked Chakotay, dread turning his stomach.
"Just a little speech to begin the party, Commander. You don't mind, do you, Captain?"
Neelix looked so concerned that neither had the heart to refuse him. "Of course not, Neelix," Kathryn said hastily. "It appears that you go first, Commander."
Chakotay looked at her and then back to the PADD quickly, swallowing hard. This was almost worse than what he was anticipating later--but at least he hadn't written this. Clearing his throat, he looked out over the assembled crew and scrolled back to the beginning of what Neelix had written as the cook spoke up loudly.
"Welcome to Saint Valentine's Day, the ancient Earth celebration of love. I'm sure everyone is aware by now of the less than auspicious beginning of the holiday--"Laughter filtered through the room."--but we have chosen to only celebrate the happy part tonight. I have asked Commander Chakotay and Captain Janeway to start the festivities by reading a short passage I found while researching the Earth database."
All attention turned to the commanding officers, and across the room, Chakotay met B'Elanna's eyes. He saw sympathy there for his plight, and support. She raised one hand up suddenly and pressed it to her heart, and the impulsive and unexpected sentimentality of her gesture bolstered him. After all, Kathryn would hear his own words soon enough. He could surely stand here next to her and read a short speech. Even this short speech. He opened his mouth, and began.
"Love is patient and kind, love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things." Barely hiding the shaking of his fingers, he closed the open file and turned, slowly, to Kathryn. She held his eyes a barely discernable moment and then continued.
"Love never ends; as for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. For our knowledge is imperfect and our prophecy is imperfect; but when the perfect comes, the imperfect will pass away. And faith, hope, love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love."
The crowd was silent before them, but they saw the crew reaching out for their friends, for their families. They turned to one another and shared a small smile that belied the charged atmosphere between them.
"Let the dancing begin!" Neelix clapped his hands, and the band struck up a lively tune. The crowd dispersed around them, and soon he found himself alone with Kathryn by the podium. An awkward silence settled over them for a long moment before she said,
"Shall we return to dinner?"
He opened his mouth to say yes when Paris suddenly appeared in front of them. "Dance, Captain?"
She opened her mouth, closed it, and then nodded once. Paris extended his hand and she took it, allowing the pilot to lead her into the mass of dancers while Chakotay stood there, surprised.
"Don't stand there with your mouth open, I asked him to do that."
B'Elanna appeared before him, took his hand in hers, and pulled him into the dance.
"Why, B'Ela? We were going to--"
"I know, I know, eat. I wanted to tell you something first, because you couldn't see the captain's face when you were reading that little thing Neelix gave you."
"Tell me what?" he demanded.
She chuckled. "Yeah, I thought you'd want to hear right away. The look on her face, old man--it was pretty...warm."
"Warm? What the hell does that mean?"
She looked up at him, her face sobering. "It means...good. It means you did the right thing, not leaving that card on your desk. And don't tell me you didn't think about it," she went on, cutting off whatever he was going to say. "I know you. It was a good choice. 'The imperfect will pass away.'"
He smiled down at her, squeezing her fingers in his. "Thank you, B'Elanna."
B'Elanna blinked rapidly, and her smile shook a little. "Hey, if I didn't take care of you, who would?" Her flip remark belied the emotion behind it. Rapidly, he spun her around, forcing a laugh from her.
"I do all right, B'Ela. So far."
The evening passed, either agonizingly slow or mindwhirlingly fast, he could not decide. But somehow, he found himself holding a sheaf of envelopes as the crew passed the cards around. Settling himself in a chair, he began to open and steal glances at the equally busy people around him. He saw laughter, he saw a few teary embraces. Harry was both stammering and trying to explain things to a baffled Seven. Naomi was running across the floor, card in hand, to fling her arms around Neelix's legs. He saw Ayala punch someone's arm in mock anger, and watched in amusement as Ensign Donaldson gave chase to Lieutenant Raamala. Turning his head to the right, he saw B'Elanna open the card he had addressed to her, watched her eyes grow bright, watched her smile grow. She looked up, caught his look. He raised his hand, pressed it against his heart as she had earlier, and watched as she mirrored it.
Turning his head back to the left, he met Kathryn's eyes.
Her gaze was unreadable.
His card was clutched in her hand.
His shoulders raised in a shuddering breath as he remembered the words he had paraphrased from the Old Earth literature she loved. He had written:
Out here, I have talked face to face with what I reverence, what I delight in--I have found my equal, and my likeness. You have allowed me to ease your burden. If you'll allow it, I'll do more, today on Valentine's Day, and always.
He closed his eyes briefly as the band struck up a familiar love song from years past. When he reopened them, he watched as Kathryn inclined her head toward the balcony and started across the room. He looked around, saw that the crew was occupied, and followed. The hem of her crimson dress--nearly a twin to his shirt--brushed softly along the floor as she walked outside.
He stepped onto the balcony, pulling the doors closed behind him. The noise and music of the party drifted away into a faint hum as he raised his face to the night sky briefly before turning to face her.
"Thank you for your Valentine," she said quietly, pulling her wrap a little tighter around her shoulders.
"You're welcome," he said, as he realized that she wasn't angry. But she was upset about something...he just didn't know what. "Kathryn? Tell me what's bothering you."
She stared at him for a long moment before sighing softly. "That's what's bothering me, Chakotay. The fact that you know me so well...better than I know myself usually. It's--unnerving, frightening sometimes. It scares me. And sometimes--" Her voice faltered.
"Sometimes?" he prompted after several seconds of silence. He saw something warring in her eyes as she opened her mouth to speak again.
"Sometimes it keeps me going. Sometimes I look at you, and I see...home."
He was the one staring now, as her words sank into him. He fought desperately against the urge to assume, and struggled with his impatience. She was talking about it. And he would wait.
"I love you, Chakotay."
His heart thudded against his ribcage, suddenly beating so loudly he was sure she could hear it. His breath came out in a forced rush as he stepped forward, hands raising to touch her.
"Don't." She stepped back, one hand lifted to ward him off.
"Kathryn? Kathryn." The first, a questioning tone; the second, low, husky with emotion. "You love me." It was not a question.
She nodded briefly, her eyes bright.
"Then what's wrong? Gods--" he looked up at the sky, his own eyes shining. "You can't imagine--I've thought, so many times--Kathryn--" He moved forward once again, and she backed away quickly. He stopped, confusion darkening his gaze. "I don't understand."
"It's not so easy, we can't just run in and make an announcement that we're moving in together or something. It's--it's--"
"Wonderful. Miraculous. The only thing I've longed for out here. And it's right. It's right, Kathryn."
She shook her head, and he could see that she was trembling. "I'm not so sure. I may never be sure."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying...I love you. I thought after all this time that you deserved to know. And for now...that's all I'm saying."
Chakotay stood there, hope to one side of him, despair to the other. The line between them had gotten much thinner in the last few minutes. "You're saying you love me--but you won't allow me to love you. Is that it?" Anger swelled within him suddenly as her silence confirmed the truth of his statement. "Kathryn. This is ridiculous. If this is so, then telling me is probably the cruelest thing you could have done." He turned his face away from her. "It's an endless game with us. I'm so tired of playing it." He reached for the doorknob, and was stilled by her hand upon his arm.
"Please wait. Let me explain."
He stood there for several minutes, his breath rasping in his chest, his pulse leaping from the feel of her hand and the smell of her hair. Slowly he turned around and his eyes met hers again. Once, he nodded. Silently. He saw her shoulders lift and fall. A sigh of relief or fear--which, he was not sure--escaped her lips as she turned away from him and leaned her arms on the balcony rail. He moved up next to her, clasping his hands and leaning his forearms next to hers.
"I know you probably think I've fought against this...against us." She stared down at her hands, her jaw tight. "It's partially true, I suppose. Loving you was easy. Having you love me is the hard part."
"It doesn't have to be," he said softly.
"It wouldn't have been...on New Earth. Or at home. But out here--"
"Kathryn." He reached out and took one of her hands in his. "The Maquis have--had--a saying: 'home is where you are'. You can have anything you want."
"I'm the Captain."
"Of course you are." He sighed, rubbing her fingers absently. "You always will be, and I love the Captain--as much as I love Kathryn. But you are the one who separates the two, not me. I look at you and I see both. Your strength, your beauty imbibe both. They have merged into one being before me, but I think they are not yet complete." He drew in his breath, wondering somewhere at the back of his mind at his daring, and deciding that whatever the outcome, it would be worth it. "I traveled a long time, a long way to find love. I work beside it, I stand behind it, sometimes I feel it...just briefly...but I can't touch it. And I need it, Kathryn...and so do you."
"Part of me agrees with you, Chakotay. Part of me hears you and revels in the truth of it. I look at you and I too find 'my equal, and my likeness'. And I think, we can do this. We've earned this."
"But." His jaw clenched involuntarily, and his forehead furrowed.
"I'm still not ready." She reached up and with gentle fingers smoothed the crease out of his brow. "I'm traveling that way, but I'm asking for more time. I know I've silently been asking you for time for years, and I wouldn't blame you if you decided you'd had enough." He opened his mouth to speak, and she held a hand up. "Let me say this since I've made up my mind to." She exhaled a little shakily, and though he ached to hold her, he merely nodded. "I know where I want to end up, I just don't know when I'll get there. You've been beside me on the first journey, every step of the way. I hope you'll stay beside me while I finish the second, but I understand if--"
He raised a finger to her lips to silence her. "'Faith, hope and love abide'." Slowly, his other hand came up and he cupped her face gently between his palms. "I can wait, Kathryn." He leaned down and brushed a kiss over her forehead. When he met her gaze again, he saw gratitude--yes, and love, if he looked deep enough--gleaming in her eyes. And he knew that everything they had gone through was worth...this. This moment.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Chakotay," she whispered, the corners of her mouth lifting, and his answering smile was brilliant.
Silently, he offered her his arm, and when she took it, he reached out and opened the door. Together they returned to the party and their crew; one to continue the journey, and one to wait with renewed patience at the end of it.
FINIS
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