| Need Codes: J/C Rating: NC-17 Disclaimer: Not mine Setting: Immediately after “Endgame” – because I didn’t like how it was left! Captain Janeway stood looking out of her Ready Room window at the bright blue sphere Voyager orbited. Earth. Home. She sighed. Three days ago Voyager had come hurtling through a Borg hub into the Alpha Quadrant. It was over. She had fulfilled her promise. She had brought them home. She sighed again. The sight of her home planet could not alleviate the heaviness in her heart. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. He was supposed to be by her side, forever. Wasn’t that what he had once promised? Her mind told her to be realistic; she had never led him to expect anything more than friendship from her. But her heart … oh, that screamed out for him, hurt, wounded, bleeding. “Oh Chakotay,” she whispered, tears blurring her eyesight. The last three days had been hectic, chaotic. They had barely spoken to each other. Starfleet formalities had taken precedence. Greetings, appointments, records to be assembled, logs to be updated and closed … it all took priority – especially for the Captain. Most of the crew were off ship, currently housed at headquarters awaiting de-briefings. Janeway and the senior staff were required to remain aboard, supervising the transfer of data from Voyager to Starfleet. It was a weird sensation for Kathryn, walking around her ship, not recognising any of the Ensigns that scurried by. Oh, they were respectful, but their open-mouthed gawping only heightened her discomfort. She was a stranger, on her own ship. Everything was being wrapped up. The last seven years sealed nicely. Ending. Time to move on. Except one matter still needed to be resolved. Needed closure. “Computer, begin recording,” Kathryn instructed. “Dear Chakotay … this is probably the hardest letter I’ve ever written, and it is also one you will hopefully never see. Oh, I can hear you now, asking why on Earth I’m writing it, if you’re never going to read it. Truth is, I have so many thoughts and feelings running through my mind, and I don’t know how to deal with them, so I thought maybe this would help. “I know … about you and Seven, the Admiral made sure of that. Did she see the pain it caused me? Did she know? It hurts Chakotay, like a physical ache and I can’t shake it off. Did I hurt you like this? God, I hope not. “I cry, for the future we can never have, and the past I was too afraid to let us share. I sit alone in my quarters and let the tears fall freely, a testament to my sorrow. I was a fool, but please believe that I always had feelings for you. I’ve loved you for a long time … unfortunately, I am the Captain … I had to get our crew home. “And now I have … and I lost you, to a woman I considered a daughter. I don’t blame you Chakotay. I never gave you a hint as to how I felt. I pushed you away, just friends, close friends … never lovers. “Oh God, if I could have another chance … If I could only tell you … Tears choked her voice and Kathryn paused a moment to collect herself. “Tuvok to the Captain … “ The Vulcan’s stoic voice sounded in the Ready Room. “Janeway here.” “Admiral Paris wishes to speak with you.” “On my way,” she informed him, placing the active PADD on her desk and leaving for the bridge. Much later, Kathryn returned to her “sanctuary” and headed straight for the replicator and a cup of hot black coffee. She was tense, her whole body taut. A hand moved to ease the knot in her neck and she groaned softly, making her way over to the couch. A grunt slipped passed her lips as she sat, leaning backwards, head resting on the grey padding. She had the mother of all headaches, not surprising, considering she had barely slept since Admiral Janeway’s arrival. Lifting her head, Kathryn took a long gulp of coffee, and grimaced. The dull ache that throbbed at her temples had increased to piecing shards of pain. “Janeway to …” she tailed off, remembering that the holographic Doctor was no longer on board. Her own intelligence told her that she didn’t need a hypospray; she needed rest. Needed … ‘No … I’m not going to torment myself with those kind of thoughts,’ she chastised herself, feeling her heart constrict and her pulse quicken. ‘No … what I need is to close my eyes … just a moment.’ Kathryn’s breathing slowed, becoming more regular. The coffee balanced precariously in her lap, her grip on the handle loosening. In her mind visions swam before her. Home. Admiral Paris. Chakotay. Tom. B’Elanna. Harry. Earth. Her mom. Chakotay. Seven. Chakotay. Phoebe. Her older self. Chakotay. Seven. Chakotay. His wedding. Chakotay. Chakotay … Chakotay … Chakotay … Kathryn jolted awake. The luke-warm coffee spilt on her Starfleet pants. She cursed. The visions continued haunt her. Him, happy, with Seven. Children, their children, running and laughing. Sunshine. Happiness. The dull ache in her heart matched that in her temples. ‘Let him go, Kathryn,’ she repeated to herself. ‘It’s too late … You can’t change things.’ Her eyes roamed the room, involuntarily remembering their times together in there. The arguments, heated, fuelled by their repressed passion. The times when she saw into him, saw how he wanted to force her against the bulkhead and claim her. Didn’t he ever see the invitation to do just that? Didn’t he know that she would have been unable to stop him? Wouldn’t have wanted to? ‘Oh God …’ Another ache joined the one in her heart and temples, centring between her thighs. This was one ache she could relieve, and had, on too many occasions. Expertly, her fingers roamed downwards towards her legs, and they spread wide. She traced the outline of her swollen fleshy lips through the black pants, feeling the growing warmth. Kathryn gasped, and arched her back, pushing against her own hand, imagining it was his. “Chakotay …” she hissed, pressing harder, trembling slightly, rocking steadily. The coffee cup dropped to the floor, her hand needed elsewhere … yes … there … pinching a stiffened nipple, tugging it through her coarse uniform. Not enough - more. Her hand roughly pushed inside the jacket, grasping her whole breast, moulding, squeezing, twisting the rigid peak till she whimpered from the pain. Sometimes pain was all she felt. And sometimes she liked to punish herself. Liked to imagine it was him, dangerous, insistent, forceful. Her head swam, her body floated. The touch of the fingers that rubbed at her sex became firmer. She was close. Close to coming on the couch of her Ready Room, by her own hand. Not for the first time, but probably the last. “Yesss …” she whispered, afraid to voice her passion for fear of being heard out on the bridge. Her hips rotated and her hand moved at a frenzied pace. The material was chaffing, but at the moment she didn’t care, the friction only adding to the arousal that consumed her body. A savage tug on her tender nipple drove her further upwards. Higher and higher up that hill that she would soon fly off. Stars danced behind her closed lids. She bit her bottom lip and panted, sucking air in through clenched teeth. Soon, oh so soon. “Chakotay to the Janeway …” For a moment she thought she had imagined his voice. “Chakotay to Janeway … respond.” No, this wasn’t part of her fantasy. “Janeway here,” she croaked, her hands frozen, her breathing hard. “May I see you for a moment?” it wasn’t a question, more like a direct summons. “Can it wait?” … She asked and continued silently, ‘Just a few more minutes?’ “No,” he answered, his voice edged with anger. “Ok … on my way,” she acquiesced, her body screaming in protest as she pulled away from her open legs and heavy breast. Walking to her bathroom, with the intention of freshening up, Kathryn noticed something wrong. Her desk. It was tidy. More to the point it was empty. The PADDS had been removed. Not one remained. A cold chill settled around her heart, and nausea gripped her stomach. Forgetting about the bathroom, she stormed out onto the bridge. “Tuvok, has anyone been into my ready room since I left it earlier?” “Yes Captain. One of Admiral Paris’ Ensigns. I believe he was gathering data. Indeed, he delivered this report to me,” In his hand, Tuvok held a tactical report, one that Janeway had earlier read and thumb printed. “Is something wrong Captain?” “No … no …” The coldness and nausea turned to panic. Alone in the turbo lift, Kathryn took a deep breath. ‘Relax, it could just be a coincidence, he might not have read it,’ she tried to reassure herself – and failed miserably. She knew damn well he had. The lift stopped and she stepped out. The crotch of her pants was damp and rubbed teasingly against her aching clit, as she strode towards Chakotay’s quarters. The headache was back, along with the tension in her neck and shoulders. Outside his door her stomach lurched and she took another deep breath before activating the chime. Chakotay stood against the viewport, his back to the door. Kathryn hovered nervously, fingers twitching. She could tell he was angry. Her heart dropped as she watched him raise his hand; there was the PADD she had desperately poured her soul into. “Is this true?” he growled. Kathryn continued staring at his broad back, almost frightened to answer. “I said, is this true?” he repeated, his voice dangerously low. “Yes,” she whispered. Chakotay turned to face her and she saw for herself how angry he was. The dark compassionate eyes she had come to love were hard and narrow, almost totally black. A sob escaped her and she hastily covered her mouth with a hand. Her blue eyes misty and open wide in shock. He moved towards her, still waving the incriminating PADD in the air. “How long Kathryn?” still his voice had that aggressive edge. “Don’t … “ she pleaded, not wanting to answer him, wishing Q would appear and whisk her off on one of his crazy jaunts. He stepped closer, forcing her to tilt her head to see him. “Answer me Kathryn,” he gripped her arm roughly. “You’re hurting me …” “How long?” his fingers continued to dig into her. “What does it matter?” she choked. “It matters to me!” he yelled, throwing the PADD across the floor. “Damn it Kathryn, how long?” Using both hands, Chakotay grasped her, shaking her to emphasise his point. Kathryn cowered. “Too long …” a lone tear rolled down her cheek, accompanying the sad whisper. For a moment the angry flame within his eyes flickered, replaced by … Kathryn couldn’t be sure. Whatever it was had disappeared as quickly as it arrived. She could feel his breath, hot across her burning cheeks, and saw his gaze shift from her face, raking lower. They had never been this close to each other. His spicy masculine scent invaded her nostrils, re-awakening her un-fulfilled desire. She could hear the change in his breathing; see the longing in his eyes as they bore into her own. She waited. Kathryn didn’t have to wait long. In one sure manoeuvre, Chakotay’s lips covered hers, hard, demanding, punishing. He ground their lips together, as the kiss deepened with bruising intensity. Swallowing her gasps, he invaded her mouth with his eager tongue, swirling, learning, tasting. His approach was forceful, weaving a hand through her hair and crushing her to him, mouth to mouth. He was already hard. Kathryn could feel his erection pulsing between them, as he rubbed himself against her, using his free hand to cup her arse and mould her hips to his. So consumed by his actions, Kathryn failed to notice Chakotay pushing her backwards – until she felt her shoulders slam against the bulkhead. His frantic kisses continued, the pace far too quick for her to return. Repeatedly he plundered her mouth, his grunts echoing in the silence of the room. Grudgingly he left her mouth, biting and nipping at the soft skin of her neck. His words, murmured beside her ear, caused a rush of excitement, making her panties even wetter. “I want you Kathryn … I want to fuck you …” A small moan was the only response she could provide, along with the sharp nails that dug into his neck and scalp. Chakotay’s lips continued to lavish attention to her throat, while his hands swiftly divested her of her uniform jacket and grey turtleneck. Her hips rocked with his, and the hand kneading her buttock moved to raise her thigh, opening her to him. Low intelligible sounds vibrated over her skin, as his lips blazed towards her breasts and she heard the lacy bra tear, yielding to him, as she was. “All this time …” he growled, furiously dry humping her, slamming her tiny body against the wall. “All this time and this is what you wanted …” Kathryn clung to his shoulders. “Yes …” “You wanted me to take you …” “Yes,” she moaned, feeling his fingers squeezing her breast, seeking out the puckered nipple and catching it firmly, twisting and tugging it. The friction between their lower bodies was driving Kathryn insane. She was so wet and ready for him. “Fuck me,” she begged, her voice husky with the longing. Urgent hands yanked open the zipper on his pants, and released his straining erection. Chakotay bit down on the top of her breast as her palm pumped at his length. “Kathryn …” he panted. Cupping his neck, Kathryn forced his head level with hers, and delivered her own crushing kiss, it’s passion matching those he had given her. “I need you,” she moaned. “Kathryn … Kathryn …” he repeated, sucking her skin into an angry red mark. “Now!” she cried, arching her back forward, pressing a tender breast into his greedy mouth. Together, they managed to lower his pants and boxers, letting them gather around his knees. Kathryn’s nails pierced his naked buttocks, desperately trying to pull him closer. “Spirits, I want you …” he groaned, trying to find the side zipper on her pants. “Oh God … I need you inside me …” she breathed. “I won’t last long …” he could feel the sticky tip of his cock pounding against her stubborn uniform. He knew as soon as he entered her, he would struggle to control himself. “I know,” she answered, kissing him again. “Neither will I.” Finally her zipper relented, and Kathryn moaned as his hot fingers slipped under the waistband and inside her sodden panties. “Chakotay,” she cried, as he opened her with his fingers, and slipped one inside. She felt so good, wet and ready … and tight. His cock twitched anxiously. “Spirits, Kathryn …” he rasped. “Please,” she begged, shuddering from the effect of his probing finger. Captivated by their passion, Kathryn and Chakotay failed to hear the whine of the transporter. Seven stood still, watching the scene playing out before her. The flowers she carried hung down. Her brow furrowed, her eyebrow arched. This could not be real. Tears pricked at her eyes. Her Captain, idol, mentor … copulating, with her partner, boyfriend, teacher. Seven’s ocular implant and Borg technology missed nothing of the sordid frenzy, registering Janeway and Chakotay’s heightened endorphin levels. Their hormonal changes were almost off the scale. With a critical detached eye, Seven observed that her Captain’s breasts lacked the pertness of her own, that their size was far smaller. Not that Chakotay seemed to mind. Indeed, his mouth was enthusiastically devouring Janeway’s insufficient offering. “Forgive me for intruding, Captain, Commander,” the Borg’s cool nasally tones rang out, as she dropped the flowers and headed for the door. Kathryn and Chakotay jerked apart. “Seven …” Chakotay called, trying to move and staggering, almost tripping, his pants around his legs. As he tried to raise them, Kathryn leant back on the wall, eyes closed, arms crossed over her bare chest, “Oh shit!” Seven took one more look at them. Chakotay was tucking himself, with some obvious discomfort, back into his pants. He looked shocked. Kathryn was frozen, unable to move, her skin flushed with more than arousal, chest heaving as she gasped. “I thought I could trust you,” Seven spat, before exiting Chakotay’s quarters. Chakotay turned back to Kathryn and her eyes opened, revealing her shame and tears. Silently he picked up her turtleneck and handed it to her. With one hand she took it, clutching it to her breasts, covering herself from his gaze. “I’m sorry,” she croaked, tears falling over her cheeks. She knew she must look pitiful, hair messed, make-up streaked and smeared, her bra ripped open, reeking off sexual excitement, pants open, hip exposed. Chakotay took a deep breath … ****** Ok … now choose where you would like this story to go … (Click on pics) Chakotay picks the red-haired, sexy fox … Or Chakotay picks the cool Borg Barbie … Or This is tripe, send me back to the main smut page |
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| “I’ve got something to tell you that I just can’t say. So I’m writing it down in case maybe someday, our lives take a turn down a road we can’t see right now. “I know you’re happy and I’m happy for you, but since you found each other, I’ve been so confused. Cause I believe there’s one soul on the earth that was meant for mine … I was sent here to find … “What if it’s you? What if our hearts were meant to be one? What’ll I do? Knowing that I’ll never love anyone, as much as I do love you … What if it’s true? What if it’s you? “If destiny called and I missed my cue, do I get one more chance? Oh how I wish I knew … I’ll never again put my heart in the hands of fate … If it’s too late … “What if it’s you? What if our hearts were meant to be one? What’ll I do? Knowing that I’ll never love anyone, as much as I do love you … What if it’s true? What if it’s you? “If I ever hold you, I’ll never let go … But if I never do, how will I know? “What if it’s you? What if our hearts were meant to be one? Oh, what’ll I do? Knowing that I’ll never love anyone, as much as I do love you … What if it’s true? What if it’s you? What’ll do? What if it’s true? What if it’s you?” |