Peregrination by Melissa
(a sequel to "Consequences")
Crit and feedback more than welcome at melissa@ladydisdain.com
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peregrination \Per`e*gri*na"tion\, n. [L. peregrinatio: cf. F. p['e]r['e]grination.] A traveling from one place or state of mind to another; a wandering; sojourn in foreign countries.
Warning: You would be better served by reading "Consequences" first to completely understand the backstory and Chakotay's state of mind. This story, unlike its predecessor, is rated NC-17 for sexual relations between consenting adults and some language. If you're under 17, bye-bye.
Disclaimer: All characters found within are owned by Paramount. Too bad. I like what I do with them more than I like what TPTB does with them most of the time. Consequently, they can keep them. I'll just babysit them for a tiny while.
Author's Note: Once again, I must acknowledge the ruthless editing and unending capacity for brainstorming of Jennifer Ferris. I doubt I would have ever finished this story if it wasn't for her willingness to listen to me complain about it, to read fourteen drafts of the same scene, and even write out dialogue that sprang to mind. Some of what you read here is hers, but in truth, she matched my voice so well I don't know if I could tell you which lines belong to her. Also a big thanks to Michele Masterson, who took a look at it when Jen and I had exhausted all possibilities, and pointed out several things that definitely needed to be done. And finally, to all those who read the stilted first fragments on my web page and asked for more--here it is. Thank you all so much for encouraging the end product. A third installment? God. Please, don't ask. This one nearly had me swearing off fanfic, it was such a bear. :-)
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It was sent.
It wasn't read yet, so she could still delete it from the ship's computer. He'd never know. She could just reach out her hand and--
Damn.
Is he sitting on top of his terminal? she thought irritably. She had debated for an hour whether or not to send the message, and then had hit the button by accident. Now all choices were obliterated; he had read it. She would soon get a response whether she wanted one or not, and knowing him, it would be soon.
Very soon, she thought wryly, as a chime signaled the reply's arrival. A deep breath, and then another.
"Computer, display incoming message," she said quietly.
Holodeck two in one hour.
Well, that's personal, she thought with a snort. No greeting, no closing statement? Nothing really at all, and certainly nothing she could gauge his mood by. If she hadn't known him better, she would have thought he was being deliberately vague. However, knowing her First Officer like she did, she knew he was just being quick.
Responding before she could delete it.
He knew her as well as she knew him.
One hour. And then they'd be alone.
It had been several weeks...five weeks, three days, she thought absently...since they'd really been alone together. Since they'd touched. Since he'd kissed her in the observation lounge. Things had been shaky for a few days after that, but luckily the only people that had known about Chakotay's resignation were the senior officers. They had spoken to Tuvok about the reinstatement first, and he had accepted it in a typically Vulcan fashion. If he had ever wanted the First Officer's position, it had never been at the expense of Chakotay. Telling the rest of the staff had been embarrassing, but Chakotay had taken most of the burden on himself by choosing to tell the story of what had happened to him.
Five weeks, three days later, they were barely steps closer to one another. They'd shared meals, but only in the mess hall; the bridge banter that had defined their command style for so long was back, but in private, they were nervous, careful. She did take great comfort in the fact that Chakotay seemed to be his old self again, for the most part. She'd catch him staring into space occasionally, and would wonder what he was thinking about. But things were good. That morning, she'd seen that they both had a free day. And felt bold.
And he had said yes, damn him.
One hour.
Hardly enough time to change her outfit six or seven times or comb her hair into a semblance or order. Certainly not enough time to bathe in near-scalding water or whip up a small feast on the replicator. She would have to prioritize. She turned to face her reflection in the mirror, one hand reaching for her hairbrush.
Five minutes to comb her hair and dress.
Three minutes to get from her quarters to the holodeck.
Fifty-two minutes to indulge in feeling slightly nauseous and pace around her quarters wondering for the hundredth time that day if she was doing the right thing.
She'd start with the hair.
* * *
What could it mean? he thought for the third time in as many minutes as he raced frantically around his quarters, shoes in one hand, the other buttoning his shirt. It had been several weeks since things had been returning to normal for them; several weeks since she had last let him hold her; several weeks since the last time his lips had touched hers...
Stop it, he commanded himself. Her invitation was probably innocently given, one friend to another. Maybe. He strode to the terminal for the sixth or seventh time.
"Computer, display last incoming message from Captain Janeway," he snapped.
Chakotay,
I haven't been to Maestro Leonardo's workshop in awhile. I was wondering if you'd still be willing to pose for me?
Kathryn
Completely innocent, he thought, heart pounding again. The two of them, alone on the holodeck. In an art studio, he reminded himself. She wanted him to model for her. Nude? he thought with a grin, and the feelings that rose up in him at that made him a little dizzy. He sat down, hard, in his desk chair, and bent to pull on his socks. You are acting like a teenager, he chided himself. He hadn't been this giddy since the First-Year Cadet Snowball at the Academy.
He stood up and strode with some trepidation to the mirror. He was normally not a vain man, but he needed to reassure himself once again that the genetic mutations he had undergone were completely reversed. He ran a hand through his hair, shorter than usual but coming in nicely. The experience had been a shock, and compounded by the traumas he was still dealing with. But that was over now; it was past.
He checked the chronometer and cursed silently. He'd have to run to the holodeck to get there ahead of Kathryn.
* * *
"What do you mean, take your name out of all the pools?"
"Just what I said, Tom. And do it today, please. I should have asked you weeks ago." B'Elanna reached out her hand for the lumpy green fruit Neelix was extending towards her.
"Would you like to try the new orso leaf salad, Lieutenant? One of the cooks back on Veekar showed me the secret to that dressing we had at dinner while we were there," the Talaxian said with a smile. B'Elanna considered a minute, remembering how good that salad had been, and decided to at least give Neelix's attempt a try. She nodded, taking the plate out of his hand. Paris waved off the offered salad, picking up a plate of thin blue pasta instead, and followed her to a table in the corner.
"I can't believe you're eating the tahryng pasta," B'Elanna said with a grimace, lifting a forkful of salad to her lips and chewing carefully. "Hey, this is pretty good," she said, catching Neelix's eye across the room and nodding. Looking back at Paris, she caught him staring at her. "Aren't you going to eat?"
"How can I eat when you tell me to take your name out of the bets? Why the sudden lack of interest?"
"It's not a lack of interest, Tom, it's a respect for privacy. They've always given it to us; don't you think we owe them the same?" She stabbed at her salad with a vengeance, pushing the vegetables around and managing to spear none of them. She dropped her fork to the table, raising her chin on both fists and meeting his gaze again. "I think we should leave them alone. Maybe the constant gossip the last four years has put pressure on them. Maybe it's part of what's keeping them apart."
Paris leaned in over his plate. "Sounds like you have inside information, B'Ela. Spill it."
"I don't have inside information, I'm just concerned about Chakotay. Look, will you just do it? If you want to keep it up, it's your business, but I'd like my name out of it."
"Okay, okay," he conceded, lifting both his hands. "I'll do it before lunch is over, alright?" He let out an exaggerated sigh. "The things I do for you," he said dramatically, and was rewarded by the fling of a slice of orange something across the table.
* * *
"Promptness. I like that in my First Officer," Janeway said by way of greeting as she rounded the corner and found Chakotay lounging against the holodeck doors.
"I could hardly be late when I set the time, now could I?" he replied lightly.
"Why aren't you inside?"
"It's your program." He bent down and picked up a basket that she hadn't noticed.
"What's that?"
"You'll find out soon enough, Impatience."
"That's Captain Impatience to you, thank you very much," she laughed. "Computer, holodeck program Janeway four seven alpha."
*Janeway four seven alpha is now running.*
Their eyes met for a long moment, and then Chakotay gestured for his Captain to lead the way. The doors parted and they entered daVinci's workshop, and then the doors closed.
They were alone.
Janeway had taken great care to not be completely alone with her First Officer over the past month or so since he had kissed her. Since we kissed, she corrected herself. She had wanted plenty of time and space to think about what had happened to them, and he had freely given it. She had written the message on impulse, and now they were here to see what the result would be. Who would take the next step.
"This is very nice," he said, stepping into the streaming sunlight and looking out the central window. "Where's the Maestro today?"
"I didn't activate that subprogram," she said, busying herself with the sculpting tools she had last abandoned on the table three days ago. Out of the corner of an eye she watched him putter around the room, picking up a drawing for a closer look, running his fingers along the wooden banister, peering up at a hanging mobile. He was an inherently creative person, and she had known he would enjoy being here as much as she did. "He'd like to meet you," she said, and then bit off a curse. She hadn't meant to say that aloud, and the surprise that flitted across his face told her that he knew it. He stopped on the opposite side of the table, nodding thoughtfully.
"Where do you want me?" he asked suddenly.
A dozen images collided with each other in her mind, and a few of them soon had a blush creeping up her cheeks. With some effort, she focused on the surface meaning of the question and silently indicated a cushioned sofa against the wall. She was amused to see him kick off his shoes before laying back against the overstuffed pillows, crossing his hands on his stomach and turning his head to face her.
"Take a nap if you like," she said, selecting a tool.
"I didn't come here to sleep, Kathryn."
She sighed softly. "No, I suppose not." Carefully she began to work on the clay, willing the self-consciousness she felt at being watched to lift. She worked silently for several minutes before he asked:
"What made you finally decide to invite me here?" No stalling with you, Chakotay, she thought, her stomach lurching. She regarded him in silence for a moment, and then a rueful smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I don't suppose you'd believe it was a whim?" At the shake of his head, she muttered, "Of course not." Her hand stilled on the clay as she struggled with her thoughts and decisions. You asked him here, Kathryn, she chided herself. Tell him why.
"Kathryn?" his voice was concerned. "You don't have to answer."
He was giving her an out, as he always did. It would be all too easy to take it. She was sure he expected her to take it. That alone was enough to make her tell him, and part of her wondered if that was his plan.
"The genetic mutations," she said finally. The protocol business, he thought, his heart sinking. He had read in Tuvok's report about Janeway's tirade on ship's protocol and the reprimand she had delivered to Tom and B'Elanna. She must have asked him here to tell him she had changed her mind completely.
She watched the shadow cross his face, and knew instantly what he was assuming. "No, Chakotay, you're wrong about that for once. I was angry about Tom and B'Elanna, but a lot of that was alien manipulation on all our parts, and they've behaved well since then."
"What then?"
Their eyes met for a long while, and she laid down the tool in her hand. "I always thought we would be old at the same time," she said quietly, amazed at how easy it was to say. 'Together,' was her unspoken addition that he heard loud and clear.
"As did I," he replied after a moment, his eyes warm on hers. Her mouth went dry, and she reached for the tool again.
"It seemed that perhaps I wasted time," she said, dropping her eyes back to the clay.
"None of our time has been wasted, Kathryn," he said, and something in his voice made her look back up. The warmth shining out of his gaze were enough to make her catch her breath as she watched him stand up from the couch. "It's a lovely day, my Captain, and there's an inviting looking hillside out there and a lot of sunshine. Join me for a picnic?"
* * *
"...I had never seen Phoebe so angry, Gods, Chakotay...and my sister is a notorious hothead. I thought for sure she would kill me that time."
His eyes twinkled at her over the blanket as they laughed together. "Kathryn Janeway, practical joker--who would have thought?"
Her eyes twinkled back at him. "Remember, about two years ago, someone put that Drobrian in Paris' bed?"
Chakotay did indeed, recalling with glee how the Lieutenant had summoned security only to find that the mysterious animal was a harmless domesticated pet from the planet on which they were enjoying shore leave. "Yes, that was very--no!" His eyes widened as he looked at her. "You did that?"
She grinned back at him. "His comments on the Bridge that week had been particularly grating, Commander...someone had to retaliate."
He wagged a finger at her. "That kind of behavior should have you on report with the First Officer, you know."
"I'm sure he would devise a suitable punishment."
His mouth went dry, his eyes grew darker. He saw the blush stain her cheeks, saw her chest rise in a shallow breath. Nervously, she laughed a little, and then silently gasped as he reached out and took her hand. The shiver that ran across her body was both expected and surprising. "Kathryn," he began.
"Chakotay--"
"Sshh." His fingers rubbed hypnotically across hers. "You talk too much. We talk too much--remember?"
I've become more wordy in my association with you than I've ever been.
She recalled his words of weeks previous. Slowly, she nodded. Careful, Kathryn...
He raised their clasped hands and brushed a kiss over each finger, his lips feather-soft against her skin. Her eyes closed briefly at the exquisite contact, each touch of his lips sending a shiver to join the first. Imperceptibly he began to lean forward, his mouth moving towards hers, and then she too was moving, her head tilting on an angle, her eyes beginning to close again. He stopped, a fraction of an inch away from contact.
"Shouldn't Tuvok be calling now?"
She burst out laughing, seeing the dance in his eyes. He caught his breath at the freedom in the sound. "Kathryn, when you laugh, home always seems a little closer."
Abruptly the sound died on her lips, and her throat tightened. "Oh...Chakotay..."
And she kissed him.
This, their third kiss, was full of the joy of discovery and the playfulness of longtime friends. It was a tender, gentle thing, lips only, and their free hands curved around each other's neck as if to prolong the moment. When they separated, Chakotay pulled her into his lap, and they sat that way for a long while: his cheek resting on her head, her left arm around his waist lightly, and their hands still clasped.
"What is this?" Janeway asked minutes later, as his free hand stroked the ends of her hair.
"I miss it," he said.
"What?" she asked, confused.
"Your hair."
She smiled a little. "It was just too much anymore...time for a change."
"And you look lovely...as always...but I do miss it."
The wistfulness in his voice made her raise her head, and her throat tightened again at the look on his face. She swallowed, thinking about what she had done the day she cut it, and made yet another decision. "I saved you a bit," she said quietly. At his look of stunned amazement, she went on, "I couldn't help but notice your thing for my hair, Chakotay."
"I know it seems strange--"
"It doesn't. Touching, and beautiful, but not strange. I braided some of it for you before I had it cut off. I thought I might have an opportunity to give it to you someday, if you wanted it."
"I want it." The ferocity in his voice made her smile. She reached up and stroked his cheek with one hand.
"I'll get it for you later," she replied. "But you haven't answered my other question."
"I know I haven't," he said slowly. "Do we have to speculate right now? I'd ask you a favor--just let it be for awhile. We still have many a year ahead of us, Kathryn. I'd like you to take a few walks with me, and see where we end up."
"Fruitful journeys."
"Always." He stood up and extended his hands to her. She took them, and he pulled her up and into his embrace. "All of my journeys with you have been good ones thus far. This is just another road we've found along the way."
"Well, Commander, right now I think this road leads to the mess hall."
"You're still hungry after all that food we ate?"
She snorted, pulling free of him and tugging on the blanket, and laughing as he struggled to keep his balance and step off of it. "Fruit and cheese does not dinner make, Chakotay, and it was three hours ago. If you don't want to join me for dinner..."
"Shut up, Kathryn. I'm coming."
* * *
"Ensign Kim."
"Huh?" Harry jerked his head back around to meet Seven's gaze. "Yes?"
"Do you typically spend your time in the mess hall staring at others rather than eating?"
"What?" He looked down at his barely touched dinner, and hurriedly picked up his fork. "No. I mean...that is...no. I don't."
Seven raised an eyebrow, and Harry privately thought she had been spending too much time with Tuvok. "That answer is at odds with your behavior this evening."
Harry hastily ate several bites of the salad before him. "I know. It's just that--well--it's Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay."
"I can see that."
"What I mean is, it's the third time this week they've had dinner together."
"I fail to see the point of this observation."
Harry sighed. Seven had come a long way in terms of her human development, but she was still parsecs behind the rest of the crew when it came to observing anything important. "Let me try to explain. The Captain and the Commander used to eat together all the time. And then they didn't for awhile. And now they are again."
Seven contemplated these words for a long moment, and then said, "Do you believe the nature of their affiliation has changed, Ensign?"
He blushed, her words bringing back an uncomfortable memory. "Yes, Seven, that's what I believe. What a lot of us believe."
"Is the frequency of their meals together the only thing you base it on?"
"Of course not. Look." He directed her gaze to the table occupied by Janeway and Chakotay on the opposite side of the room. "She's smiling, and the look on his face is what we call the 'Janeway grin'. He only smiles at her like that. He's grabbing vegetables off her plate, see? She just smacked his hand, but he's still doing it. I heard Paris call her from the Bridge a little while ago, and she told him to 'handle it'."
Seven was nodding. "I understand. You believe they are...flirting, is that the correct word?"
Harry flushed again. "That's correct. You're a quick study, Seven," he said, thinking, too quick.
* * *
"We seem to be the focus of attention in here, Commander," Janeway chuckled, trying unsuccessfully to grab her carrot back from his plate.
"Only because you refuse to share your food with me. You're setting a poor example for the rest of the crew," he laughed, popping the carrot into his mouth.
"Me?" She wagged a finger at him. "You are a scoundrel and a thief."
"Hey, I'm a wanted man, remember?"
"Oh, I remember," she said, her tone mock-serious. "Technically I should throw you in the brig."
"Because I'm a member of the Maquis?"
"No, because you stole half my dinner! How do you think Tuvok would respond to that?"
"We could find out, Captain; is he on the Bridge?"
She grinned back at him. "No, he's off duty and preparing for his latest assignment." At Chakotay's quizzical look, she said, "Neelix has asked him to give the opening speech on the first night of Prixin next week."
"It's time for Prixin already?" A wicked smile raised the corners of his mouth a little further.
"What is that smile for?"
"Oh, nothing...I just remember a certain Starfleet officer who had a little too much fruit compote last year." Janeway managed to look offended. "I am certain you are not referring to me, Commander." She stood up, taking her tray off the table. "If you're quite finished filching my food, I believe we have some crew evaluations to work on?"
"Don't we always?" he said, unceremoniously dumping his empty plate and cup onto her tray. "My quarters or yours, Captain?"
She looked down at him, her gaze narrowed to hide the thoughts that sprung into her head at his words. Safer on your own terms, Kathryn, she reminded herself. "Mine. Half an hour."
"Is that an order?"
She raised an eyebrow. "No, Commander, but I can make it one if you wish."
He got to his feet slowly. "Maybe later," he murmured for her ears only before sauntering-yes, sauntering, damn him!--out of the mess hall. She shook her head in disbelief as she headed for the recycler. Flirting. In front of the crew. I'll have to speak to him about that, she thought, smiling slightly as she walked out past the curious faces.
* * *
Chakotay stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom, running his hands absently through his hair. It had all grown back, he was sure. He was appropriately dressed for the occasion. He was ready early.
But something was amiss.
He pushed the sink back into its wall niche and paced away from it, trying to shake the unsettled feeling that was weighing heavily on him. Everything was fine on board the ship. The crew was safe. Neelix was back from the dead. He and Kathryn were--well, they were--progressing. Slowly. Just as he'd always hoped. He had friends--a family--a home. So why was he feeling so out of place, out of sorts?
The chime sounded softly, and he walked over and palmed open the door.
"A joyous Prixin, Commander," Janeway said as he stepped back to allow her entrance.
"Health and happiness to your family, Captain."
"I certainly hope so," she said, smiling. "We've done okay so far, don't you think?" When his smile did not reach his eyes, she looked up at him, concerned. "What is it?"
"I'm fine."
"Pull the wool over someone else's eyes, Chakotay. I know you too well. Tell me what's bothering you."
His smile was self-deprecating. "How long have you known me this well?"
She paused, and then her shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. "Always, it seems."
Relief of a sort intertwined with surprised joy at her words, and impulsively he reached out and pulled her into his arms. He felt her stiffen at first, and then relax, as he rubbed his chin gently on the top of her hair. Several minutes passed as he felt the edges of his melancholy blur, lured away by the faint sound of her breathing and the warmth of her skin under his hands. She held peace for him, somewhere inside her, and he sought it again, for it had been elusive lately. He had been unable to contact his spirit guide for days and he was suffering from insomnia, but here, for these few minutes, he could feel a semblance of calm.
Finally she pulled back, folding her hands in front of her, curious concern furrowing her brows together. "Tell me."
"Is that an order?"
The furrow grew deeper, and irritation flashed in her eyes. "Of course not, Chakotay. It's certainly up to you whether or not you tell me." He was instantly contrite. "I'm sorry. I'm a little punchy today. I can't stop thinking about the simulation Neelix and I ran on the holodeck." She opened her mouth to respond, and he held up a hand. "But not now, Kathryn. We have a party to get to, and I don't want to be late. Especially not this year."
"You're right," she said quietly. "There's a lot to be thankful for this year."
He reached out and stroked her cheek with a knuckle in silent appreciation for her patience and her care. She took a long breath, and he gestured for her to precede him. "Kathryn." She turned back expectantly.
"You look wonderful," he offered, picking up his jacket. Her delighted smile banished the concern to the back of her eyes.
"Couldn't let you show me up like usual, Commander."
He laughed and opened the door. Perhaps, for this night, he could hold onto peace. He was not alone. He was in the arms of family.