(Timeframe: Anytime after "Pathfinder")

~*~

Stardate 53547.1, Captain’s Personal Log

It was my fault, I know, and I can’t blame him. He once said that that he was probably the only Indian who couldn’t make a fire. But he did tend and nurture the spark for a long time; I’m the one who doused and buried it, quenching any hope of a glimmer, much less full flames. And now… now I’ve got to try to re-ignite the remains to prevent the worst of outcomes for him.

~*~

The doors of the turbolift opened onto Voyager’s bridge. The figure of Kathryn Janeway was through the slit of an opening almost before the crew noticed the familiar "whoosh".

She swooped around the platform of the command con and took her seat, crossing her thin legs with classic ease. "Report, Commander."

Chakotay spun the monitor around in front of her, its tables of figures scrolling slowly for her examination. "As you can see, we’ve entered an area of interstellar microasteroids. We’re getting recordings of minute quantities of sodium and potassium content in the particles, and perhaps some enclosed gaseous carbon dioxide. I would recommend an in-depth scan for other trace minerals; we just might be able to find some duranium for the gravity plating repairs."

"Excellent suggestion, Chakotay. Relay the order to astrometrics. Mr. Kim?"

The young man at the ops station looked up from his screen. "All sections are fully operational. We have sustained some minor fluctuations in the hull stability readings due to microscopic impacts with the particles, but again, nothing that we haven’t seen before. Repairs are in progress."

"Fine. Continue on our designated course, Mr. Paris. Warp 2, mark 74.0 …" She nodded her approval of the state of the ship and slowly rose, stepping off the comm platform and headed towards her ready room. "Mr. Tuvok, if you have a moment, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you in my ready room."

His head nodded his assent even as he began to follow her.

Chakotay looked up, his eyes wide with inquiring surprise. He was usually the one she called into her ready room for early morning conferences. "Captain?"

"Later, Commander," she responded, as she and her tactical officer disappeared behind the closing doors of her office.

Every hair on Chakotay’s body prickled at her response. Something was going on, and he sensed that he just might be the center of focus.

~*~

Janeway silently motioned to the dark Vulcan. "Please… be seated, Tuvok. Coffee?" She was already pouring two cups without waiting for his response, handing the steaming liquid to him as he sat on the sofa under her viewport.

His eyes followed her as she came over and joined him, assuming a rather casual sprawl along the length of the couch. He, however, maintained his ever-present officer composure. "This action is not your standard morning protocol, Captain. I would presume that you have a matter of concern on your mind?"

She lowered her head, attempting to hide a small smirk at his serious inquiry. "Not really concern, Tuvok; just advice… of a personal nature."

His left eyebrow raised, the only indication of his response. "Indeed? Usually it is Commander Chakotay that you look to for such advice."

"Not when it directly involves him," she answered, her body quickly shifting slightly. "I guess I do have some concerns, Tuvok, and I need your wisdom and insight to help me think them through." She sipped deeply from the gilt-edged cup, allowing the dark contents to help her focus.

Tuvok studied the nuances of her body language as she spoke. He leaned forward and placed his cup on the low table in front of them. "I sense that this concern of yours – and his – might be one with some… emotional impact." His normal stoic composure seemed momentarily uncomfortable.

She got up, and began a deliberate pacing around the table, locking her hands behind her back to keep them from trembling as she continued. She feigned interest in the warping star streaks lighting up the dark space outside. "It could be, I guess. What it really involves is the Commander’s… future." She turned around to face her long-time friend. "Tuvok, for all the excitement and hope that our recent communications with Starfleet brought about, it also has initiated uneasiness and anxiety regarding what may await us upon our return."

He made a silent nod towards her, agreeing and inviting her to continue.

Her pacing resumed with a nervous intensity, belaying her usual calm exterior. "There is no denying that, in addition to a celebration of our return, we will have myriad questions thrown our way, many of them uncomfortable. I am not that concerned about answering to my own actions; I take full responsibility for those and for many regarding actions of the crew as a whole, as they were responding to my orders. However, at the top of my list of concerns is what will happen to our crew members who were once the object of our original orders – what about the Maquis? What will happen to them? Most of all – what will happen to Commander Chakotay?"

Tuvok sensed a strange uneasiness in his old friend, something he had not seen in her for a long time. "Captain I do believe that you are anticipating the worst possible scenario. Remember, I also was with the Maquis. I’m certain that my records will add substantially to any judgment that is made. Not all of the Maquis efforts were detrimental to the Federation. Surely there will be a thorough and impartial review of the Maquis who have served with us so well over these last six years. Their actions aboard Voyager have, for the most part, been exemplary -- particularly those of Commander Chakotay. He has been an conscientious first officer, and in your absence, proven himself to be an excellent leader." With his typical patience, he fell silent and waited for her to continue, to sort out her thoughts as she went along.

She resumed her position on the sofa and leaned into him, her eyes aflame with emotion. "Yes… yes, I know. But somehow or another, since he was the senior officer on that ship – their captain – the ultimate blame for their subversive actions must rest on him; he alone must answer for their treasonous acts. As I am in the position of captain, I must take responsibility for the actions of all my crew – and that includes those of Chakotay."

She paused, rubbing her nervous hands along the creases of her pants, studying their movements as she composed her thoughts. "There is an old Terran law – spousal testimony privilege – that could be invoked. Basically, what this law states is that a spouse can refuse to testify against his or her partner if he or she feels that such a testimony would be incriminating. While in my deepest heart I feel that Chakotay has more than redeemed his Maquis days, my logs do cite times of intense disagreement – even instances when he directly disobeyed me. I know that Starfleet, if they want to really indict him, will call upon these instances to prove that he never was truly rehabilitated."

"But, Captain – such a suggestion means that you and the Commander must be legally bonded to each other. You are not…”

Janeway cut off his words. "Exactly." She inhaled deeply before continuing. "What I am going to propose to him is…" she chuckled at the pun of her statement before continuing. "That’s it; I’m going to propose – I am going to ask him to marry me. And then have you do just that – marry us."

She quickly got up and circled to the other side of her desk, seeking the defense of putting her desk between them. "But – again to use an old Terran term – it will definitely be a marriage of convenience, one in name only. I will not make any other demands on either of us."

"Surely you would not believe that Starfleet wouldn’t see through such a fraudulent action? The lack of a fiduciary nature to such a relationship would be most obvious…"

"But it will be legal and binding; that is the important thing. Tuvok, so many times all of us have said that things were different here in the Delta Quadrant. While I have struggled to keep all of our actions and dealings within the confines of the Prime Directive and Starfleet protocol, survival has always been our main objective. Even Starfleet would not deny that. What I… we… the Commander and I… would be doing is merely guaranteeing survival for ourselves and our futures; is that so wrong?" She began pacing at a furious rate, all of her anxiety betrayed in her frantic movements.

His voice was calm and firm. "I do not see how this would be of any benefit to either of you. There is no evidence or record to indicate that your relationship with the commander is anything other than a professional one that shows platonic loyalty between two senior officers. Indeed, I would see the relationship between you and me as having more emotion to it than between you and the commander. If memory serves, there have been many instances in which your behavior towards one another has been less than cordial, even hostile. Surely you know that Starfleet would not be so naďve to believe for a moment that this proposed arrangement was based on anything except as a legal safe harbor."

She stopped, turning back to him. "Yes, that’s true. But we do know each other and know about each other enough to convince them that our relationship is rather… intimate. And – it’s not as if I’d be coming ‘home’ with an alien ‘war bride’ from the Delta Quadrant." She sat down on the sofa for a third time. "It’s not as if we don’t know physical things about each other, either." She chuckled to herself. "My god, we probably know things about our poor beaten bodies that our mothers wouldn’t even know." Her face took on a somber tone as she continued. "There was once a time, several years ago… when we almost did… almost…"

Tuvok nodded and said softly. "It was New Earth, was it not?"

She nodded, her face contorting with the long-repressed memories. "Yes. But that was long ago, and we have overcome… those earlier feelings." She shook her head, as if waking from a dream and looked back at her old friend.

"Perhaps those feelings are still there, Captain."

"No; the time is long past for any rejuvenation of those times." She sighed and then laughed. "Tuvok, I’m surprised at your even mentioning ‘feelings’."

"I am not totally without emotion, Captain. In fact, I can sense emotions quite deeply. It’s just that I do not respond superficially to them. This request of yours, while rather illogical, might just be appropriate after all, given the ‘history’ of you and the Commander."

Her eyes sparked curiosity. "In what way?"

"I have noticed that in many human marital relationships that as the years progress and the ‘thrill’ of early romance fades – as two people learn to know each other on a daily, routine basis – that their attitudes towards each other take on an almost antagonistic outlook. They have viewed the darker sides of their partners; they have seen each other sick, angered, and jealous. The nakedness of emotions is frequently more horrifying than a less than perfect physical appearance. Each feels spiritually vulnerable now that these imperfections are on the surface, and each attempts to rid the other of these blemishes in their ideals."

She was enthralled with his analysis. "Go on."

"We are now almost seven years into our journey. As the attraction between you and Commander Chakotay has been evident almost since the beginning…"

"What?" she cried out, her face aghast. "Whatever do you mean, Tuvok?"

Unflapped, he continued. "…since the beginning, and, given the necessity for the close, even intimate, relationship that you and he have had, I would propose that what you are experiencing is something I have heard Mr. Paris refer to as ‘the seven year itch’. It isn’t that you and Mr. Chakotay are not married; quite the contrary – it’s almost as if you have been married for several years."

He leaned back on the sofa, as a rare Vulcan-like smile crossed his face. "Indeed, Captain; perhaps your idea does have merit. In retrospect, it would appear that you and he have been involved in a marital relationship, albeit without the physical consummation." Her face reddened. "Or am I incorrect in that assumption?"

She laughed nervously, her blushing face lowered. "No, no; you are quite correct in that. Even though…"

"Just as I thought," he concluded. He sat upright, proceeding with her idea. "Just how would you carry through with this idea?"

She calmed herself, but her nervousness was evident with the way she began twisting her hair and denying him eye contact. "I… I haven’t figured out how to approach him yet. I wanted to use you as a sounding board first, and then… well, anyway… Now that Tom and B’Elanna have broken the ice, so to speak, with their marriage, I’m sure there are several couples champing at the bit for me to approve of legalization of their relationships. I’ve heard but not really wanted to confirm the rumors that Ensigns Brooks and Murphy and Crewmen Lang and U’Lanai already more or less share living spaces."

His silent nod confirmed her suspicions. "And would you and the Commander join in your living arrangements?" he queried.

She laughed nervously. "One step at a time, Tuvok. Yet I guess we would have to think about that – just to make everything on the ‘up and up’, wouldn’t we?" Her voice sounded like a twittering sparrow. "I can’t even begin to think what it would be like to share living space on a Starship…"

She became serious again. "Besides, my chore before even thinking about that is how to revitalize a long dormant relationship." She sighed deeply. "Over the last few months, we’ve said some… some pretty damaging things to each other. Sometimes it has been almost unbearable to sit next to him or be in the same room with him, knowing his animosity towards my decisions – and even me. And I can’t stand the way he has almost let me – and others – walk all over him. At times, I think he just doesn’t care anymore."

"That’s only… human, given the tediousness of the journey," Tuvok murmured.

"Yes, yes, I understand that. And I’ll be the first to admit that I haven’t been exactly an angel all the time either.” Her eyes glimmered impishly. “But he’s become so withdrawn – barely speaks on the bridge unless spoken to. I’ve heard that he’s socializing less and less with the senior crew."

"Do you socialize with them any more than he?" Tuvok asked.

The question pierced her deeply. "It’s different with me, Tuvok. You should know that… the leadership position is one of isolation."

"Perhaps that’s part of the underlying problem. Each of you is denying that other exists, both personally and professionally. If memory serves, Captain, lately you have almost solely sought my company for social companionship."

"Have I?" she responded, reflecting on her recent minglings with the crew. She shook her head. "I guess I have been rather negligent in ‘spreading myself around’, so to speak. I’ll have to start making amends there."

She began pacing again. "Well, do I have your support on this decision, Tuvok? If I can convince the Commander of the necessity of this action, I would like for you, as next in command on the ship, to marry us."

"I would prefer to think that I were not purporting a duplicitous relationship," he said.

"You won’t be," she answered, a gleam creeping into her eyes. "You will be helping save the career – and possibly the life – of a fine Starfleet officer."

He rose, knowing that she was determined to follow through with her plan. "I would hope so, Captain."

She linked her arm through his as they walked towards the door. "Tuvok, of all the people aboard this ship, you are the one I would hate to disappoint the most. I will make it work."

The ready room doors opened and Tuvok walked onto the bridge, his face stone-like and uncommunicative as to what he and Janeway had discussed. Twelve pairs of eyes followed him as he solemnly took his former place at the tactical station, but they knew better than to ask him about the thirty minutes he had just spent in conference with their Captain.

An hour passed by and Janeway remained in her ready room. Nervous silliness engulfed the bridge crew, with the exception of Voyager’s tactical officer. All suspected something was afoot, but knew better than to try to extract any information from the Vulcan.

The sudden sound of Janeway’s voice came like a photon burst from the unknown, crackling through the charged atmosphere. "Chakotay, I’d like to see you for a moment.”

"On my way, Captain," he answered, glancing first at Tom then the rest of the crew. Her words almost sounded like a summons to a suicide mission. He attempted to put a smile on his face, but walked like a condemned man. His last look before reaching her office was towards Tuvok, whose eyes were lowered and glued to his conn monitor.

Chakotay did not need to activate the ready room doors; they opened via her signal, having timed his response. Their vertical jaws opened and swallowed him into the unknown of her space, and closing with a loud finality. "Captain…" he responded, assuming a modified pose of attention as the doors closed.

She stood between him and her desk. "Commander," she greeted him. "Please – take a seat." She walked around her desk and sat, waving him to the chair across from her. He followed her nonverbal request and partially sat on the chair, balancing himself in an alert position. He steadied his nervous hands in his lap, his face looking as if he’d been called to the principle’s office. The silence was leaden, but he waited for her to continue. Her discomfort level superseded his, if that were possible. Her hands were below the surface of the desk, twisting nervously. Damn it, Kathryn; you’re the captain; this request is no different than assigning him to an everyday mission; just get on with it. Yes, yes; she had to do just that.

"Chakotay…" she swallowed his name. "Chakotay," she said, more firmly and in control. "I have a… proposition for you."

He looked at her, his eyes suddenly full of questions. She raised her hand towards him. "Please… please hear me out before you say anything."

She couldn’t sit still. Just as her conversation had begun with Tuvok, she got up and wandered over to the wide window overlooking their ever-changing homespace. She took a deep breath and turned to him, repeating her well-rehearsed request.

"Chakotay, now that we are able to communicate with Starfleet and can begin anticipating the possibility – even the probability – of our return to the Alpha Quadrant, we must begin to plan for what will happen once we get there. I know both of us have done some soul-searching and already lost some sleep about outcomes and reactions to all that we have done these past six-plus years, including the merging of our two crews and our revised mission agendas. Our experiences have been such that we might as well have been in another universe."

She walked away from the window, steadying herself against the railing that separated the upper part of the room from her desk area. "I would be a fool to think that you aren’t concerned about Starfleet’s reactions to you and your crew and your previous Maquis actions. Would it surprise you to hear that this same thing tops my list of return anxieties? Oh, yes; from a selfish standpoint, I know that I can be accused of collaborating with the enemy… being captured myself… but you – and your crew – have become as much a part of Voyager and my life as those who began on this vessel with me. You have put your lives on the line over and over again for the good of this ship and all her crew. Now, I’m faced with seeing to it that this solidarity can convince Starfleet, upon our return that indeed, we are all one."

"Kathryn…" he said walking over to her, sensing that she was once again going to offer herself for the good of all of the crew if Starfleet wanted a scapegoat.

"Shh," she said. "Let me finish, please. Chakotay, this isn’t easy for me, either, but it’s for the good of all of us." She walked back to her desk, feeling that from her position of ‘captain’ she could explain herself better.

He followed, and resumed his original seat. It was a good thing, too, for if had been standing, her next words would have knocked him off his feet.

She looked him firmly in the eyes, and with a firm, resolute voice made her request. "Chakotay, I want you to marry me."

After several seconds, he realized that he had stopped breathing and was growing cold from the shock of her question. "You WHAT?" he finally blurted out.

Again her hand cued him for silence. "It’s… it’s not what you think. I know… that… that… it could never be as we once thought it could be. This is purely as a protective action, to shield either of us from any repercussions that might occur due to the… er… alteration of our original missions. Chakotay, I don’t want anything to happen to you; you are a good man, and, despite our personal differences now, I would be devastated if I had to testify against you for any supposed ‘war crimes’ you might be tried for. Don’t you see – I can then fall back on an ancient law that will allow me immunity from having to make any testimony if I am your legal spouse."

She picked up a padd that was on her desk, and began to play with it, needing to find some activity for her hands… her eyes… anything that would prevent her from having to look at him. "Starfleet knows that over our extended journey and close quarters that personal relationships probably have developed throughout the crew. Protocol notwithstanding, these partnerships would probably be more accepted if they see me in an exemplary position. Besides, it would not be a ‘forever’ arrangement. As soon as we passed an acceptable period beyond the statute of limitations, we could quietly divorce. And don’t worry; I wouldn’t hold you to any binding agreements or anything that would hamper your…"

He stood, although his knees threatened to buckle. His barely discernible voice interrupted her. "Uh… let me get this straight. You’re asking me to marry you, breaking the very Starfleet regulation that you have held so sacred over all these years so that you can save me. All right, so we can save us from having to testify against each other for any of our actions here in the Delta Quadrant – don’t you think it’s a little late for that? They’re going to see right through it. Come to think of it, don’t you think it’s a little late for us? For god’s sake, Kathryn – the logs are full of our disagreements and horn-locking!"

His words pierced her; she retracted as if he had slapped her. "Is that what you think, Chakotay? That because of our differences we don’t care for each other?"

"Well, that is the case, isn’t it? You’ve gone out of your way to let me know how dissatisfied you’ve been with my performances. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you’ve done your damnedest to see to it that a lot of my responsibilities have been given over to other people." He was pacing furiously now, as the lid had been taken off all his pent-up grievances. "It seems that any problem that arises can be taken care of by any of your star pupils – is there nothing that Seven can’t do? Isn’t the EMH even capable of handling technical jobs now? And you seem to have Tuvok to lean upon when you need to ‘chat’ about something personal. Let’s face it, Kathryn; I’m irrelevant to this ship… and in your life!"

She came over to him and reached up for his shoulder, the comforting action that once was common between them. "Chakotay, that’s not true; please… understand that…"

He viciously pulled out of her grip. "Understand what? That you care for me and want to help me? If that’s the case, then I would suggest that we just find a nice little M-class planet somewhere soon and I’ll take a shuttlecraft and ‘retire’ there. Then, you wouldn’t have to ‘worry’ about me – or how my presence upon Voyager’s return would be a blemish on your illustrious future with Starfleet. Let’s face it; you will be the hero in all of this, and I’ll just smile and perform for you, like the good little dog you’ve trained me to be, a mere postscript in the log of the good ship Voyager."

This wasn’t going the way she had planned, and uncharacteristically she had not thought of an alternate plan. It had been a long time since she had seen him this emotional, and several of the things he now blurted out cut her deeply, for she knew they were true. She had been ignoring his abilities, pushing him aside in favor of others. She had convinced herself that she was providing ‘learning experiences’ for them, but down deep, she knew that she was punishing him for proving her judgment less than Starfleet perfect at pivotal moments.

She followed in his wake. “Chakotay, please…”

"I’m not playing the part of your lackey any more, Captain; I’ll face any charges Starfleet might have and stand on my own two feet. I didn’t need you before, and I don’t need you now."

She felt a knife cut into her, not smoothly, but with a deliberate jagged twist. The inflicted wound hurt and would not heal easily. She ventured to touch him again, but his recoil was instantaneous. Her voice trembled. "Have I hurt you so much, Chakotay… that we can’t even be friends?"

His words were cold. "That time is long over, Kathryn. You seem to be the only one not to notice that."

She sighed, walking over to the sofa; her small form was enveloped by its cushions as she sat down. With great effort, she kept her shoulders firm, not wanting to give in to defeat. "Chakotay, I never meant for us to drift so far apart. Truly, I didn’t. It’s just that…"

He walked over to her, his form towering over her. "Did you ever really care, Kathryn? Or has it been a game – a hoax – all along?"

She reached up to him, hoping to calm him. At least he allowed her to grasp his hand in between hers. "You don’t know – you really don’t know – how many times all I ever wanted to do was lose myself within you," she said softly.

He sat down, his face still red and smarting from his outburst. "You certainly know how to express that well." His words dripped with irony.

A small smile crept across her thin lips. "I never really was one for sensitivity; you know that. I’m a goal-oriented person, Chakotay; you’re a people-person – that’s why you make a good first officer. I look at life with a philosophy of the end justifying the means…"

"Even when you hurt or destroy people in the process," he muttered.

She sighed, allowing her head to fall in acknowledgement of his statement. "Even then. Yes, Chakotay – I’m guilty of all of that. It’s one of those situations in which my greatest strengths are also my greatest weaknesses." She turned to him. "Don’t you see? That’s why we have worked well together over all these years; we compensate each other… we complement each other."

"Sort of like opposites attracting?" he proposed.

"Exactly," she answered, a small chuckle arising from her.

"What’s so funny?"

"A little while ago, I was discussing my idea with Tuvok…"

He groaned. "Tuvok knows about all of this?"

"I had to discuss it with someone, and obviously it couldn’t be you… quite yet," she smiled. "He made an interesting observation. He said that the state of our relationship right now is not unlike what frequently happens a few years into most human marriages… that we have been hit with the realities of the relationship and not just the ‘glamour’. It’s like we must decide if it’s worth pursuing any further… if we’re really in it for the long haul."

"Interesting. That really doesn’t sound like Tuvok."

"Oh, I think he knows more about human nature than he lets on."

"So… is that our situation?"

"I’m beginning to wonder…"

"Kathryn, back on New Earth – do you think that… that…"

"That if we had been there any longer… would I have given in to all your physical charms?" She laughed, the sound ringing like delicate bells. "Probably so."

He smiled at her. "It’s good to hear you laugh, again, Kathryn; it’s been a long time."

She looked over at him, her eyes glistening. "It has been a while, hasn’t it?"

The warmth of their laughter seemed to melt the wall of ice that separated them. He reached over towards her, wrapping his large arm around her slight shoulders, pulling her towards him. "Do you really think that it would work?" he finally asked.

"What?"

"This suggestion of yours – this ‘marriage of convenience’."

She looked up at him, a twinkle in her eye. "Well, according to Tuvok, we’ve already weathered a few years."

"But not exactly the way I would have pictured them," he answered.

"Do you think it’s too late for us to try? Can we give it a fresh start and hope that we’ve learned some lessons along the way?" she asked.

"For the sake of our crews," he said, his eyes full of tease. He gathered her hands between his and began kissing each fingertip, his breath warm and inviting,

"Exactly," she answered him, closing her eyes and reveling in his touch – so long dreamed of, so long in coming.

Breaking free of her reverie, she pulled him up. "So… shall we tell the ‘children’?" she asked, leading him towards the bridge.

"Oh, somehow or another, I don’t think this will come as much of a surprise to them," he smiled, kissing her just as the doors opened onto the bridge.

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