G'Day! This is an episode addition to 'Scientific Method', that actually manages to stay in canon... kind of. Anyway, the purpose of this is to explain why Captain Janeway switched to the short 'do between 'Scientific Method' and 'Year of Hell'.

I'm not ecstatic about this story. It could probably be better, but I just grew so sick of it that I basically only finished it so it wouldn't be sitting there on my hard drive glaring at me any longer. Another reason I'm not very happy with it is that it's a bit too much like my last story 'Into Temptation'. They're both written along the same theme, which disturbs me for some reason.

Oh well, I hope you all enjoy it anyway.

This story is dedicated to Sam, because she's been waiting for it for a while.

Disclaimer: The Star Trek universe and all therein belongs to Paramount, not me. No infringement of Copyright is intended.

The soothing sound of rain against the window panes filled the common room of the tavern. Captain Janeway propped her chin on her palm, her elbow resting on the wooden table top. Absently, she swirled the remaining wine around in her glass with her other hand. She breathed in deeply, then exhaled slowly.

It was wonderful to feel so calm again.

As she sat in the dim tavern, sipping a glass of wine, the sound of quiet conversation around her, she revelled in the fact that she wasn't the least bit agitated.

They were past the incident with the aliens... But she knew that the psychological impacts of the encounter would take a lot longer to leave behind. She herself was still dealing with it. Because even if she managed to look past the fact that an ensign had died, and the rest of her crew had been violated... even then she couldn't quite come to terms with her loss of control.

And she had been seriously out of control.

Her actions had been questionable for days prior to the final confrontation with the aliens, but that was nothing compared to her reckless behaviour at the end. Tuvok had been right to use that description of her. She was so disappointed with herself. Captains were supposed to be able to function under great duress - not lose it completely and fly their ship through the middle of a binary pulsar system.

And so now she was here in Renaissance Tuscany - a little town outside Siena, to be precise. She was here to relax, or at least that's what she'd told everyone. And in reality, it was a very relaxing program. But on top of all the 'relaxing' she was doing, she was also working through her experience with the aliens in her mind. Phoebe would say she was brooding, but she preferred to think of it as doing a little self-evaluation.

She didn't look up as she heard the door open over on the other side of the room. Tuvok was right on time, as usual. She lifted her head to greet her old friend as footsteps approached from behind, only to find herself looking at her first officer instead. Her smile turned to a look of confusion.

"Tuvok couldn't make it," he said before she could ask, "Beta team is having a minor crisis, and Tuvok felt he should deal with it himself. He asked me to come and apologise for him."

"What was the crisis?" she asked immediately, hating the fact that she was so out of touch here.

He smiled slightly before replying. "I believe it had to do with their response times working with the new security protocols. It didn't sound too serious, and I'm sure there'll be a nice detailed report on it waiting for you when you return to duty."

She grinned wryly in response. "No doubt. Well, since you're here why don't you join me for a while? I could do with some company."

"Alright," he replied, and sat across from her.

From the expression on his face, she could tell that's what both he and Tuvok had intended by asking Chakotay to come and see her. Tuvok would have considered it 'logical' to send someone else to spend some time with her, since he couldn't make it himself. And from his position, Chakotay was probably the most 'logical' choice.

They looked at each other for a few seconds, and then he opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the arrival of one of the programs serving girls.

"Can I get you something?" the pretty Italian girl asked.

Janeway watched in amusement as Chakotay took in the girl's appearance with raised eyebrows. Although most of the women in the program wore the same kind of attire, the waitress she had gotten stuck with seemed to have taken things to the extreme - almost falling out of her top as she was.

"Yes, another two glasses of the same red, please," she told her, and handed over her nearly finished glass.

"Did you let Paris into the program parameters?" he asked after the girl moved away.

"That's how peasants dressed in the Renaissance, Chakotay." She smirked. "Besides, I checked with the computer when I arrived. He hasn't been anywhere near this program."

"Then I guess we'll just have to... put up with it," he said as the girl returned with their drinks.

She sighed. Some things - including men - would never change. She decided to change the subject instead.

"So aside from beta team's crisis, how is the rest of the ship?"

"We're in good shape, considering. B'Elanna's got repairs under control - her teams will be finished today. People are starting to relax again - not looking over their shoulders all the time. It shook them up pretty badly, thinking that those people were on board for weeks without our knowledge."

"I know how they feel. What about Neelix. Has he finished the preparations for Ensign Cray's service?" her lips tightened as she spoke.

He looked away, feeling the same way, no doubt. "Yes. It will be tomorrow at eleven hundred hours. I've fixed the duty schedule. Neelix is handling the rest."

She raised her glass to her lips. "He must be getting used to it by now," she said grimly.

"Kathryn..." he began, his eyes sad as he leaned over the table slightly.

She let out a sigh. "No, it's alright. I'm not going to wallow in censure and self-reproach. Not at the moment, anyway. At the moment, I'm just... trying to relax."

He heard her pause, and sensed there was something else bothering her. "You said 'trying to relax'. Isn't it working?"

She shook her head wryly. She should have known he would pick up on her lie. Well, it wasn't exactly a lie. She wasn't blaming herself for Ensign Cray's death - no more than she blamed herself for the death of anyone under her command, anyway - but she was indulging in a bit of censure and self-reproach, and she hadn't really wanted to let him know.

"Kathryn?" he prompted when she didn't answer straight away, trying to catch her eye.

She looked up at him, and her resolve failed. He was her closest friend. She should be able to discuss anything with him. She smiled at him then, feeling a little better already simply because he was concerned for her.

"I'm alright, really. It's just that... You read the report on the on the final confrontation with the aliens. Chakotay, tell me the truth. What are your impressions on my actions at the end?"

He considered for a moment, guessing at what was troubling her. "Under the circumstances, your actions were justified." She gave him a disbelieving look, and he continued. "I'm not saying that you wouldn't have behaved differently had you not been under the influence of their experiments. But I think you did the best you could, everything considered."

"How can you say that with a straight face? I flew the ship through the middle of a binary pulsar system, Chakotay. I was completely out of control."

"The 'self destruct' manoeuvre is a recognised tactic, and you know it. Captains have been using it for so long, there's a whole section on it in second semester command school. Your version was just a little more... creative."

She pursed her lips. Was he making fun of her? "Whether or not my tactics were sound, I know myself. It wasn't just what the aliens did to me, Chakotay. I was so far beyond the breaking point... I wanted them gone. I wanted them dead. And I enjoyed the way I accomplished it."

Chakotay sighed, then reached across the table and took her hand. "Kathryn, you said you know yourself. Well, I know you too. I know that throughout it all, you had the best interest of Voyager and the crew at heart. And I support your actions, as your first officer and as your friend."

Damn. She hated the way he always knew exactly what to say to make her feel better. That was one of the reasons she hadn't really wanted to confide in him on this - she'd known he would do something, or say something, that would make her rethink her guilt. And truthfully, it was comforting to know he condemned neither her actions, nor the motives behind them. She looked down at their joined hands, and squeezed his fingers slightly before pulling away.

"Thank you, Chakotay, for that vote of confidence. But what about you? Are you alright? It must have been a little unsettling - growing old before your time."

He let her change the subject. "You're right. It was alarming, to say the least. I'm just trying to focus on the fact that I'm young again... Well, younger anyway," he amended, smiling into his wine, "And it was a definite eye-opener in that respect. We take our health for granted - this illusion of eternal youth that our advanced medical technology has lead us to believe in. But the truth is, even if our life expectancy has doubled in the past five hundred years... Sooner or later, we all grow old."

"So you've decided to live life for the here and now?"

"I'm going to try at least," he said, glad that she'd understood so easily.

She grinned. "I'd say that's a good idea. There's nothing like a life-threatening situation to inspire a little appreciation for what we've got."

"I couldn't agree more."

He spoke so seriously. She glanced up at him then, and there was something in his eyes that surprised her. She couldn't tell what it was, exactly, but it was very intense. She looked away, slightly unsettled, and drank the last mouthful of wine.

"So how complete is this program?" he asked her suddenly, and she wondered whether she hadn't imagined that look in his eyes a moment ago. "Is it just this inn, or is there more?"

"Oh, there's more. You can walk through the village, or there's the surrounding countryside as well. Do you feel like going for a walk? I explored the village this morning, but there's a river nearby that's supposed to be very picturesque."

"Sound's good. Let's go," he replied immediately.

"Alright," she agreed, and couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm as she stood up. "Oh, but let me just turn off the rain. Computer -"

"No, wait," he stopped her with a hand on her arm, "It's only a shower. And there's nothing more invigorating than a walk in the rain."

She paused at that, thinking how she'd always enjoyed walking in the rain when she was younger. He was always surprising her like this - by revealing something new about himself. It sometimes amazed her how much they had in common, especially for two people from such completely different backgrounds. And now she discovered he liked walking in the rain too. Well, wonders would never cease...

Wordlessly, she followed him outside.

They stepped out into the street. The rain surrounded them immediately - the sound, the smell, the soft pattering against their clothing. It was a gentle rain, and it was warm against their skin. They were wet through in a couple of minutes, but it hardly mattered, and was kind of the point at any rate. And so they walked out of the village, in the general direction of the river.

"So much for 'picturesque'," she laughed as they reached their destination and discovered that the river was almost completely obscured by a curtain of rain and mist.

He laughed with her, more than would normally be expected for her comment. But his laughter was infectious, and suddenly their situation seemed a lot more humorous than it had a moment ago - standing in the rain, both of them drenched, walking all that way to see a view that wasn't there...

She watched him for a moment then, as he turned in a circle to inspect their surroundings. He seemed to be full of life, verging on hyperactive. He was all but bouncing on his toes, his eyes bright and alert.

"Chakotay," she asked and placed a hand on his arm to get his attention, "Are you feeling alright?"

He fixed her with an intense gaze as he answered. "I'm just... glad to be alive. We never seem to appreciate the most important things in our lives until we're faced with losing it all."

She was about to make a comment about how life-threatening circumstances have a tendency to do that, but he continued speaking as if he'd anticipated her words.

"I know I've had my share of near death experiences, and I should be used to feeling like this, but what those aliens did to me just seemed so real. I can't imagine ever being ready to grow old like that. But right now," he said, his tone becoming lighter, "I'm glad I'm alive. I'm glad I'm here with you. And I think I feel like celebrating. Computer, a bottle of champagne, two flute glasses and a one metre high table."

Janeway didn't know quite what to make of his behaviour. Certainly he had every right to feel the way he did, but there had been something in the way he'd said 'I'm glad I'm here with you' that was making red alert klaxons sound in her head. And then he handed her a full glass and smiled at her. She couldn't help but smile back. What else was she to do?

"To Voyager," he said, his glass raised, and then hesitated before adding, "And to us."

She started a little at that, but clinked her glass against his nonetheless. She eyed him over the rim of her glass as she sipped the champagne. When had he moved so close? And what did he mean by that toast? And why was he looking at her so intently? And why... Why was she finding it so hard to ignore the fact that his shirt was plastered to his skin as much as her own clothes were to hers?

She looked away from him then, unsettled by the expression on his face. He simply reached out and took the glass from her hand, and placed it back on the table along with his own. She didn't understand what was going on, didn't know what to make of his behaviour, but then his hand was resting alongside her jaw, turning her head back to face him.

She looked up at him then, and read the intent in his eyes, and knew that he was going to kiss her. Her mind seemed to slow to a near halt, or perhaps it just happened so quickly, but either way there was only just time for an indignant What does he think he's doing? to echo through her thoughts, before his lips were on hers.

Part of her knew that she shouldn't be letting this happen - that she had to stop him and that this was highly inappropriate. But another part of her wanted nothing more than to let her arms steal round his neck, and bury her fingers in his short, dark hair, and just forget for a while that she was Captain and had so many responsibilities. Really, was it so much to ask that she might have something for herself? That she might, just this once, put herself before her crew?

And it was that part of herself, that hidden, selfish part of herself, that was in control as she let him kiss her. It was the part of herself standing in the rain, drinking champagne and laughing at nothing. It was the part of herself that even now was revelling in the fact that his lips were pressed against hers, and that her arms were around his neck. And all she could think was that finally, finally, she was kissing Chakotay.

She was kissing Chakotay.

Breathlessly, she pulled away long enough to speak. "We... shouldn't be doing this," she managed before he kissed her again.

"I know," he replied a moment later as he transferred his attention to her throat.

She sighed at the sensation, all too aware of how long it had been since... She pushed at him again.

"Chakotay, wait," she said, speaking out of a sense of duty, and tried to ignore the feel of his mouth on her skin.

She pushed at his shoulders, and he seemed to hear her words all of a sudden. He lifted his face to look at her, his hands behind her head.

"Do you really want me to stop?"

Looking at him in that moment, all she could think was that that was probably the stupidest question she'd ever heard.

She realised a little while later, while she was sucking on his earlobe, that in a few moments she was just going to rip his shirt off. That's when it hit her. This. Could. Not. Happen.

"Wait! No, Chakotay, we have to stop."

She pulled away from him entirely then. She was suddenly cold, away from the warmth of his arms. "I'm sorry," was all she could say. She backed away from him a few steps. "I... I'm sorry," she repeated, and then turned away completely. "Computer, exit," she demanded, and fled the holodeck as soon as the doors arrived.

She left him standing there, bewildered, hurt and confused, and all but ran down the corridor to the turbolift. Her eyes burned as she tried not to cry.

Chakotay was already on the bridge the next day when she returned to duty, as she'd known he would be. She saw him try to reign in his shock at her appearance, and was glad when Tom spoke up in a highly inappropriate tone of voice.

"I like the new look, Captain," he said with a grin.

She was glad he said it, because it allowed her to ignore the way he was looking at her so intently, and instead place a hand on her hip and give the pilot a stern look.

"I'm so glad you approve, Mr Paris," she said dryly, then let her eyes move around the bridge, looking everywhere but at him, "I'll be in my ready room. Commander, you have the bridge."

She didn't hear his reply as she strode through the door into her safe haven. It was a whole hour before he came to see her.

"Come in," she called in response to her door chiming.

He entered and handed her a padd. A report from Engineering. It had to be discussed, so she gestured for him to sit. But first...

"Captain, about the other day," Chakotay began.

Apparently he'd had the same idea as she.

"I'm sorry, Chakotay. I shouldn't have run out on you like that. It was just..." she trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"I know. It's alright. I'm sorry too. It won't happen again," he replied, his tone resigned.

"I think we were both reacting from the strain of our ordeal," she offered, and he nodded.

There. Reconciliation. Though it was a mostly unsatisfying conclusion, and neither were being entirely truthful, it was what they needed to do to move on.

"Kathryn," he spoke again, and she was surprised by the urgent note in his voice, "I know it isn't my business. But... Your hair, why did you cut it?"

She stared at him for a moment before answering. She knew she would never be able fully explain it, and didn't really want to anyway. She doubted she even knew the whole reason herself. But as she fingered the short strands sadly, all she could think of was how his hands had felt tangled through its length only yesterday as they kissed. That was reason enough on it's own.

"Sometimes, Chakotay, there are things we want but can't have. And I suppose we do whatever is necessary to deal with that fact."

A vague response, but in his eyes she saw acceptance, and understanding. Yes, she thought, He of all people would understand.

It would make perfect sense to him.

The End

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or whatever to s371186@student.uq.edu.au

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The Doctor has made 'additions' to his programming.