Two
by Michele Masterson

Author's note: Okay, so I actually haven't seen "One" -- but since when does that stop anybody? I wanted to write about how Janeway would feel about going into stasis for a long time, giving up all control to someone else. This is a short one. Comments to Libra471@aol.com.

Rating: PG

~*~

Stillness. Though Voyager's engines still hummed, as they always did, though main power was still online, stillness, silence, pervaded the ship, draping over every corridor, hanging like a pall in every cargo bay. She walked, trying not to dwell on the creeping sensation she was fighting, which was a bit too similar to the feeling of walking through a graveyard.

Janeway and Chakotay were the last two crew members set to begin their month-long stasis, and had split up to tour the ship. One final check. She'd covered the upper decks, inspecting the rooms filled with living people inside metal tubes, and though she had ensured that each pod was functioning, each stasis operating within acceptable levels, she could not bring herself to look at their faces. It was silly, really. But she didn't want to encourage her fear that this could very well be the last time she'd see some of them. Or all of them. So she would refuse to look now. Besides, she was being ridiculous. She'd see them, all of them, in one month. Maybe more.

Finally, she arrived at the cargo bay where she would reside for the next month, storing fifty or so pods. All but two were sealed, occupied and beeping quietly. Chakotay stood by one of them, his back to her, turning and smiling when she entered the room. And for some reason she felt as if she'd been punched in the stomach; it would be easier if she didn't have to see anyone, see him, before she went under herself. But she covered and returned his smile.

"Everything check out, Captain?"

"All set," she said. "The long-winter's nap has begun."

He smiled again and checked the readings on their pods. "These are ready to go," he said, and then winked conspiratorially. "I got us the best ones."

She chuckled. "Great. I hope mine has a bathtub."

"Of course," he said. "I think I've got a better deal though. I've got a holodeck. And a replicator."

But they were both a bit troubled, despite the banter. This had not been an easy decision. Total and complete forfeiture of control. Neither of them had been fans of the prospect. But there was nothing to be done about it, control issues aside.

She stood beside him now, running her hand along the cold, smooth metal of the stasis chamber, biting back her growing apprehension. One month. Maybe more.

"You all right?" he asked quietly, though she knew that he knew what she was feeling. It was also what he was feeling, she suspected.

She nodded and smiled. "Well. Who goes first?"

He considered her a moment, and then moved toward her, a hand on her arm, guiding her to the open chamber door. "You. I'll ask Seven to check mine after I'm under." Without listening for her answer, he helped her slide into the pod. He waited as she settled herself, his hand on the lid, poised to shut the pod over her. But her body refused to recline. She remained sitting, legs stretched in front of her. She just needed to breathe a second, just a few moments, and then she'd be ready.

"I know," he said quietly. "I hate it."

"We've done it before," she said, and noticed the surprise in his eyes at her statement. New Earth. That was the only other time they'd both been in stasis together. They hadn't spoke of it in so long, yet with one shared a look the memories flooded back as if it had occurred just a second ago. It was a different part of the galaxy. They were different people now. A sudden longing crashed over Janeway, very like regret. And then the ache that she had almost forgotten took up residence again in her chest, and she had to look away.

"It seemed like more fun back then, didn't it?" she asked, and she smiled, though she felt like crying suddenly.

He must've seen it. Must've felt it, otherwise, he wouldn't have done what he did next. She felt his hand on her face, brushing over her cheek, curling his fingers to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Her breath caught; it was perhaps the most gentle gesture she'd received in a long, long time.

"You'll be all right," he almost whispered. "I'll watch over you."

"Really?" she said, a smile creeping onto her face. "Unless you're planning on staying awake through all this, you're going to be a vegetable just like me."

The look on his face remained serious. His hand was still in her hair, and she found herself wanting it there. Needing it there. For the whole month, actually, if he could only do this the whole time, she'd be fine...

"I watch over you," he said, so close that she could feel his breath against her cheek. "I can."

When she made the sudden decision, she remembered to watch his face carefully -- she had always planned that when this moment inevitably arrived, she'd want to see his reaction, his look of utter surprise. And he did not disappoint. When she wound her arm around his neck and pulled him gently to her, she saw plainly his moment of realization, and it would be something that would comfort and amuse her for years to come. And so, as insane as it was, ill-advised, likely brought on by fear, stress, any number of mitigating circumstances, she nonetheless brought his lips to her own. And she kissed him. Softly, safely, moving her mouth over his, sharing his breath, allowing her eyes to close and just feeling him.

They pulled apart and rested forehead against forehead. There were no questions. There was no "I can't believe you did that." And, perhaps most surprising of all, no regret on her part. At the sound of his soft laughter, she opened her eyes and looked into his, crinkled with joy.

"If you tell me that you don't remember this when we wake up, Kathryn Janeway, I think I'll have to kill you." He laughed again, and she smiled, but stilled him when she placed her hand on his face.

"You know I'd never do that, Chakotay," she said, and the smile faded from his face, sudden tears shining in his eyes. She ran a finger over his cheekbone, his nose, leaned in very close to him and whispered, "I'd tell you that you'd dreamed the whole thing."

She jumped back at his look of mock-outrage, but he grabbed her shoulders and now she was laughing loudly. He pulled her to him and silenced her laughter with a kiss of his own. And this one was decidedly more... serious. For a moment she forgot about everything else, every fear and worry, and only thought of his mouth hard on hers, his tongue blazing a hot trail her lips, in her mouth, his hands moving over her body. By the end she had twisted around in the stasis pod, she was on her knees and they were crushed together, groaning into each other's mouths. When it ended, they were both out of breath, both taken aback by the ferocity of their mutual responses.

"That was probably unwise," she said wryly, breathing hard. "We can't do much about this right now."

"I wonder if it's bad to go into suspended animation with a hard-on," he said, and she sputtered out a laugh, punching him in the arm. After they had calmed some, they held each other gently, and she marveled at how much safer she felt, how much of her apprehension had dissipated. Well, she hadn't thought of this relaxation method, but whatever works...

"Too bad there isn't room in there for two," he said, smiling.

"Oh, that'd be helpful. We'd never fall asleep."

Finally, reluctantly, they released each other, and he helped her lie down, arranging her limbs, her hair, touching her everywhere so that her pulse quickened again and she groaned out loud.

"You're not making this any easier," she said, cocking an eyebrow.

"Hey, I offered to get in there with you." He put an elbow on the ledge of the pod and leaned his head on his hand.

"Good night," she whispered, suddenly anxious to get under so that she could wake up that much sooner.

"It'll be over before you know it. The blink of an eye."

He moved to stand up, but she stopped him with a hand on his shirt, her fingers curling around the material and pulling him closer.

"One more for the road," she whispered, smiling. And he smiled as well, bending over so he was nearly inside the pod. They kissed again, slower this time, not meant to enflame, but as a promise, a glimpse of some future that was at once far off and immediate.

He straightened then, and touched her face before gently closing the lid. The stasis sequence began almost immediately, and she could see him watching her through the glass, his hand caressing it as if he were caressing her. And as the world around her became hazy, her breathing shallow, her pulse slowing, she found nothing of the anxiety she suspected she would feel -- toward this stasis or this thing she had begun with her first officer. As if they had balanced each other out.

Time was a funny thing in stasis. Though a huge amount of time could pass, years even, like Chakotay said, it felt like only a second, a blink of the eye. She knew she would see him in a month, a month that would only be a moment, and it would never be soon enough. For already four years had passed; and they too were only a moment.

A month. Maybe more. But if she never awoke again, it would be all right. For she had shared a lifetime in that moment with him. It would be enough. It would be her life.

FIN

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