Solace (a sequel, of sorts, to "Last Communion")
by Melissa
Author's Note: I've had many people writing to me wondering where the J/C was in my epilogue to "Hunters". Geez, isn't a writer allowed one B'Elanna story? :-) This is in response to those queries-though I doubt it's exactly what they meant.
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The stars streaked by the viewport, and for once, the sight did not comfort her. She had viewed constallations from a hundred planets over the last four years, yet these were still unfamiliar. Nowhere before her was Orion; Vega was lightyears away. Thousands of them. She remembered countless evenings at the Academy when she would crawl up to the roof of her dormitory, turn her face up to the bright pattern that spread itself out before her and dream of the day when she would be flying through it. When she went home to Indiana, she would sit in the backyard at her mother's feet, eyes focused above her, and listen to her father spin wild tales about how the constellations had been formed. All her life, it seemed, she had been focused on the stars. She had felt at home within them, among them, around them. Out here, so many miles away from the patterns that had been a part of her for as long as she could remember, it was hard to stay focused on home.
It was hard, even, to determine what she thought of when she thought of home.
Four years, she had held tight to her faith that they would return to it.
Four years, Chakotay had spent trying to tell her that they'd already found it.
Every once in awhile, for a few brief moments, she would believe him. She would round a corner in the corridors and see crewmembers, laughing, and instead of stifling their noise and stiffening up, they would smile and greet her. She would walk into the mess hall and Neelix would sing out a hello, bustle her to a table and insist on serving her his latest "masterpiece". Tom would tease Harry from across the bridge and with a smile, include everyone. Samantha Wildman had a child. Couples were forming all over the place. She would look around, and it would feel like home. Just for a moment.
And New Earth had felt like home, no matter how hard she had fought the feeling. No matter how many times she tried to forget it.
Chakotay had been there through all of it. Through the Kazon, through the Borg, through Q's posturing, through the loss of Kes. Arguing with her, arguing for her, and never leaving her side.
He was her First Officer. Protocol did not allow it. The first safe excuse.
She was engaged. Morality did not allow it. The second.
Today, a PADD had informed her that there was only one excuse left. Tonight, staring out at the lonely expanse Voyager was sailing through, it seemed like a poor one.
Neelix had thrown one hell of a party. Sandrine's had been dragged out and dusted off; Tom had programmed a rollicking band. There had been drinking, and dancing. Crying remembrances. Joyful embraces. Mourning and celebration. She and Chakotay had sat in a corner for a long time, just watching. People would catch their eyes, wave, smile, and go on. Respecting their privacy. They had sat in silence for most of the evening, comfortable with it as only two people who completely understood one another could be. It had been disturbing. Only Mark had known her that well-right? She hadn't let Chakotay in that far.
Had she?
He had disappeared for awhile, and eventually, curiosity had gotten the better of her. The computer had given his location as holodeck two, and she had gotten up and walked over. Watched silently as he and B'Elanna prepared to toast their fallen comrades. Meant to leave. Found herself walking into the midst of it instead. Found her throat tightening, looking at the faces of the friends Chakotay and B'Elanna had loved and left behind. Saw how bereft they were. She knew she would have similar feelings if any one of them were to vanish from her life forever. So she had raised her glass to them, honored the loyalty, the friendship that had bound them together.
B'Elanna had come to the party soon after Janeway and Chakotay had returned. They watched, silently, as Tom spotted her hovering by the door and walked quickly to her. They watched, silently, as he cupped her face gently in his hands, seeing the trace of tears on her cheeks, and understanding the feelings that were reflected in her eyes. They watched, silently, as he drew her into an embrace, and then pulled her to a corner table where he proceeded to play waiter for her until she smiled and made him sit down.
"Unlikely, but lovely," Janeway had said softly. Chakotay had nodded, and had not met her eyes.
About an hour afterwards, Chakotay had gotten up to refill his glass. Janeway had taken advantage of the absence and fled to the solace of her quarters. She had been standing in front of the viewport since then. Twenty minutes. She knew her door chime would ring any moment, knew Chakotay would not allow his concern for her to sleep the night. He would come to check on her, and then bow out of the room, giving her the space she needed. It was frightening sometimes, the feelings that shone out of his gaze when he forgot to hide them. The way he always seemed to know what she was thinking, what she needed.
The door chime sounded, and she smiled a little. If she thought about it long enough, she knew him about as well as he knew her.
"Come," she said without turning. She felt the door open, felt him hesitate in the corridor, watching her, before he entered. Felt him walk across the floor, slowly, and stand beside and just behind her, his reflection distorted next to hers in the window.
"You missed Neelix attempting to play the clarinet," Chakotay said quietly.
"Harry's a little too nice sometimes," she replied. Part of her stood off, detached, watching the game they played together. Each circling the other, he reaching across, she backing away. Around and around, year after year.
"How did my letter from Mark make you feel, Chakotay?"
She felt him stiffen, the tension suddenly so thick she could almost reach out and touch it. She had surprised him. It was very rare that she could do that. She heard the slight sound as his mouth opened, and quickly went on, "And don't tell me that you're sad for me, or that you hate to see me hurt. I know all that. I want to know how it made you feel."
"You don't want to have this conversation, Kathryn." A hardness to his voice. Anger, maybe, or frustration. Janeway said nothing. Just waited, listened to him breathe. In the silence of her quarters she could hear the rasp in it, very low. She waited.
"I was...glad...that you have other...opportunites now." He shifted, weight transferring from one foot to the other and back. Nervous. Uncomfortable. Hopeful. Cursing himself for it.
"I clung to the thought of Mark for a long time, and now that it's gone...I feel odd. Free, but weighted. So many choices, Chakotay--but then, I've always had those, haven't I?"
She felt him nod. "For a very long time. A very long time."
"It's good to have you here, to help me decide. To prop me up if I slip. That letter...it widened a path a little."
"Maybe," he said, his voice soft, "I can help you find what's at the end."
"Maybe," she agreed. "Soon, I think."
"I didn't expect you to act on it right away, Kathryn. Just remain open to the possibility."
Janeway turned and regarded him silently for a long moment. The sincerity, the peace, in his eyes, would center her. They always had. And when the time came to make the decision, she would be ready. "I've always been open to it, Chakotay."
His eyes widened slightly, and slowly a smile twitched the corners of his mouth. She turned her back to him, knowing that she would soon feel his hands on her waist. He did not disappoint. She lay her arms on top of his, and smiled when his chin came to rest on top of her head.
Outside the viewport, just beyond their reflection, the stars streaked by. It was a comforting sight.
FINIS
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