Emerging from the shadows

I wake up a couple of hours later, momentarily panicking about how long I’ve been here, until I see from the chronometer that its only 2300hrs. Relaxing, I snuggle up behind Kathryn, allowing myself the luxury of a last cuddle before leaving. She murmurs sleepily and I kiss the nape of her neck.

“Ssh, go back to sleep.”

She wriggles further into my embrace and I know that if she was awake, she’d be very aware of my hardening cock pressing against her buttocks. I take a deep breath and try to concentrate on just holding her close.

A few moments later, my cock still has a mind of its own, burrowing insistently between her thighs. Kathryn moans and drapes a leg over my hip, opening herself to me.

“I have to leave,” I half-heartedly whisper.

“You’ll scare the neighbours … leaving with this,” she mumbles

She’s still wet from our previous lovemaking, allowing my cock to slip inside with ease. I start thrusting, murmuring her name, as I kiss her neck. Kathryn’s too exhausted to respond and I realise, shamefully, that this is just for me. I cuddle her close and thrust faster; chasing my own release as she incoherently whispers encouragement. I should feel guilty, using her body for my own pleasure, but I don’t, because the only thought I have right now is how good it feels to fuck her …

“I’m close,” I whisper into her hair.

Kathryn mumbles, but doesn’t resist, when I grasp her hip for leverage and begin hammering my cock into her.

“Oh, spirits … Kathryn … oh, fuck, you’re so good …”

It only takes a few seconds of hard pumping for me to come. She removes my hand from her hip and pulls it around her, snuggling my arm between her breasts and lowering her leg, trapping my softening cock inside her. I hold her close, inhaling the scent of her shampoo, mixed with the musky smell of sex. Eventually, I ease from her embrace and her depths.

“I have to leave,” I whisper, kissing the side of her face.

“Hmmm …”

“Mind if I use your shower?”

Her head shakes a fraction before sleep claims her once more. I quietly pad into the bathroom and shower quickly, soaping Kathryn’s perfume and juices from my body. Afterwards, I dress in silence and cautiously make my way back into the bedroom.

Kathryn hasn’t moved, she’s still on her side, snuggled into the pillows with a faint smile on her lips. Spirits, I love her. Properly love her … deep, full, passionate, lay down my life for her, love. This is the woman I want to spend my life with, not a woman I want to fuck then sneak out on.

She moves. “You going?” she huskily asks, barely awake.

“Yes, I have to,” I whisper, kneeling beside the bed and reaching out to brush her hair back from her face. “I’ll call you later.”

“Okay … love you …”

“I love you too.” I lean forward and softly kiss her lips. “Sleep well, Kathryn.”

* * * *

Seven’s already home when I arrive.

“I came back early,” she explains. “I thought perhaps we could have had a late supper.”

I keep my head down, hiding the small bite on my neck that I noticed after my shower. “I ate out.”

“That is what I thought.”

I move to the replicator and order a tea.

“There was a message for you.”

“Oh?” I try to keep the tension out of my voice.

“It was Lieutenant Paris.”

Her continual refusal to call our former crewmates by their first names infuriates me, especially now. “B’Elanna or …” the lump in my throat cuts off his name.

“No, Tom.”

“What did he have to say?” I croak, feigning a tickly cough to hide the strange sound.

“He wishes for you to call him in the morning. It sounded urgent.”

“Oh.” I take a swig of tea and try to guess what Tom’s discovered.

Seven’s studying me. “Do you know what it is he wants?”

“Not a clue,” I lie, turning away before she sees the look of guilt I’m surely wearing. “Well, it’s late and I’m tired, so if you excuse me, I’ll go up to bed.”

I hadn’t heard her move so the sudden palm on my shoulder makes me jump. “Would you care for some company?”

“I’m sorry, I’m tired Seven.”

“I see.”

I know she’s blaming herself, thinking that my mood is because she cancelled dinner. I should tell her that I’m not angry, but I don’t. The last thing I want right now is her body next to me in bed – especially since I’ve just walked out on the woman whose body I do want. “Goodnight, Seven.”

“Goodnight.”

* * * *

After another night with very little sleep, I rise and shower early then settle down to the monitor in the den. B’Elanna answers.

“Hey old man!”

“Is Tom there?” My sharpness shocks her.

“Is something wrong? Is this anything to do with Tom’s latest crazy scheme? Because if it is, you can leave my daughter out of it!”

“B’Elanna, I’m sorry,” I tug my ear and try to calm my racing heart. “I asked Tom to do me a favour …”

“What favour?”

“I really can’t explain right now. Is he there?”

I hear a commotion behind her and she steps away, moving out of vision. Angry, heated words are exchanged and then Tom appears. “I need to see you.”

Straight to the point. “Okay, my office in an hour?”

“Make it two; I’ve got to pacify an angry Klingon.”

I nod. “I’m sorry I’ve placed you in this position, Tom.”

“She’s just pissy because I used Miral to get to my father’s consol.”

“But you got the results, right?” the lump in my throat is threatening to choke me.

“Yes, I got them.” There’s more hollering from behind him. “Look, chief, I’ve got to go. I’ll see you in a couple of hours. Paris out.”

I stare at the swirling Starfleet Communications logo as my stomach threatens to throw up last night’s meal. This must be the same nauseous feeling that Kathryn has every morning. I contemplate calling her then think better of it. I don’t want Seven to discover me whispering sweet nothings to our former Captain.

* * * *

Those two hours were the longest of my life, but eventually here I am, sitting expectantly in my leather office chair, awaiting the news that will affect my life. The door buzzes and I stand up as I key admittance.

“Chief,” Tom greets, striding in with a serious expression on his face.

“Tom.”

Paris sits and gestures for me to do the same, which I do.

“Firstly,” he begins, removing two PADDS from his pocket. “Let me tell you I didn’t like sneaking around behind my friend’s back …” He’s referring to Kathryn rather than Seven.

“I’m sorry …”

“Yeah, well, so am I.”

I wonder what he means by that.

“But I’ve got the results you asked for.”

I watch him place the PADDS on the desk and I know that my hands are trembling too much to pick either of them up. I stare at them. “Why don’t you just tell me?”

Tom takes a deep breath. “The female foetus was fathered by you, Chakotay …”

I sigh with relief, my daughter – my child with Kathryn …

“Admiral Janeway’s son was fathered by an unknown male.”

Admiral ….

I stare unseeingly at Paris. “But you said my daughter …”

“You and Seven are expecting a daughter,” he explains.

I jump up and stagger from my desk. “No, no! Kathryn and I are having a daughter … your results are wrong!” I throw the PADDS across the room.

“I’m sorry, Chief.”

Kathryn cheated … no … no!

“No, you must be mistaken … Kathryn wouldn’t cheat … you’re wrong!”

I grab him by the shirt and haul him to his feet. Spirits, I want to pound the fucking pity out of his eyes.

“Easy, Chakotay,” he says, removing my hands. “Hitting me won’t change anything.”

“It’ll make me feel a damn sight better!” I roar, swinging at him and missing, landing in a miserable heap at his feet.

Tom stoops and places a comforting hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“The results must be flawed …” I’m grasping and we both know it.

“I ran them three times. There’s no mistake.”

A hole has opened up inside me, an aching, festering hole and I do something I haven’t done for years - something Tom Paris has never seen me do – cry.

“Come on, Chief,” he says, obviously feeling out of his depth.

I shrug off his compassion and struggle to my feet, clutching at the desk for support. “Peterson?” I choke; referring to the man I’ve long suspected was after Kathryn – obviously he had her too. Bastard! She swore fucking blind she’d never slept with him! Lying slut!

It takes a moment before I actually understand what Tom’s trying to say.

“What?”

“No, the baby wasn’t fathered by Admiral Peterson. I ran his DNA profile for comparison. It wasn’t a match.”

His latest revelation leaves me reeling. “Get out.”

“Chakotay …”

“Leave! Get out! Leave me the hell alone, Paris!” I lunge for him again and he wisely steps back, heading for the door.

He pauses. “Talk to her, Chakotay. You know she loves you …”

“She’s fucking someone else behind my back! Does that sound like love to you?” I holler.

“She’s not got the monopoly on cheating, Chief. You’re the one with a wife.”

The implications of his parting remark stay with me long after he’s left.

* * * *

An hour later, I’m standing outside Kathryn’s front door, hands clenched, and waiting for her to answer. I hear her calling out as she approaches.

“You’re early!” her smile widens when she realises I'm standing here. “Hello, darling, I wasn’t expecting you.”

I stiffen as her lips press against mine. “Who were you expecting?”

“Mark. He’s picking me up. I’m spending the day with him and Carla. It’s Kevin’s birthday and they’re throwing a little party, I’m taking the …” she trails off. “Chakotay what’s wrong? Are you ill? Is it … Seven?” she asks, grasping my arms and peering up at me.

Her touch inflames and sickens me. I shake her off, ignoring the wide-eyed look of surprise. “Who is he, Kathryn?” I growl.

“Who? Kevin? He’s Mark and Carla’s …”

“No! Damnit! Don’t play dumb with me! Who is it?”

My anger scares her and she backs away, a combination of fear and confusion on her face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about …”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“I’m not! I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

I grab her shoulders and shake her roughly. “Your lover! That’s what I’m talking about! Who have you been fucking?”

“Chakotay, please, you’re hurting me!”

“Hurting you? Oh, I haven’t even begun to hurt you!”

She looks genuinely scared.

“Let me tell you a story,” I hiss, tossing her onto the couch and leaning closer, trapping her there with an arm either side of her head. If she’s expecting another Angry Warrior tale, she’s going to be sorely disappointed. Disappointment must be the theme for today.

“Two days ago, after you’d told me about your baby, I noticed a discrepancy between your scan and Seven’s. I thought perhaps Seven had been cheating on me, no matter how ludicrous that seemed because I KNEW you wouldn’t cheat, right, Kathryn?”

She stares at me through wide eyes.

“So I asked Tom to help me out, because, as you’re aware, I know fuck all about medical stuff. I’ve just met with him and do you know what he told me?” She shakes her head, the action barely discernable. “He told me that Seven’s daughter shares my DNA. Your bastard son’s father is unknown! Except I’m sure you know, Kathryn, and I’m not leaving here till you tell me!”

“No …”

I watch, gloating, as her face crumbles.

“No … it’s not possible …”

“Oh, it is, darling,” I sneer, leaning closer. “You see, I’ve had time to think since Tom left and I realise you made a slip – or should that be another slip? You remember that you told me you were six weeks pregnant?”

She nods, miserably.

“We were on a break then. This bastard of yours didn’t even stand a chance of being mine …”

“Stop calling him that,” she whispers, her hand subconsciously moving to protect her unborn child.

“Who is he, Kathryn? Who’s been between your legs? Or has there been so many you don’t have a fucking clue?”

My words hurt her but I don’t care, I just want to hit back at her, cause her the same pain she’s caused me.

“No … it’s impossible …”

“Do you want to see the fucking evidence?”

“It only happened once …”

My gut twists. “Who was it, Kathryn?” I growl, menacingly.

“Mark …”

I’m annoyed she’s worried about him arriving. “Mark can fucking wait till we sort this out!”

“No …” her eyes plead at me for understanding. “Mark. It was Mark.”

I stagger backwards. “Mark Johnson?”

She nods. “Yes, it only happened once …”

“Mark Johnson! You’d go back to fucking a man who wouldn’t kiss you after you’d sucked him off?”

“It’s not like that, please, Chakotay …” her hand reaches out for mine.

My head’s spinning. “What’s the matter, Kathryn? Do you have some addiction to married men?”

“Please! Listen to me! It wasn’t like that!” Her voice breaks from shouting.

“Spare me the details. Have a nice life, Kathryn,” I turn to walk out, the angry, festering hole inside me growing bigger.

Something skims past my head. “It’s your fucking fault this happened!” she screeches.

“This I’ve got to hear,” I roar, facing her.

She’s standing, shaking with anger, tears streaming down her face. “You wouldn’t leave Seven … and I wanted you to be with me!”

“And fucking Johnson was the solution?”

“No! Damn you! We’d split up … I was upset, crying … lonely … I couldn’t talk to mom or Phoebe because we were a secret … I couldn’t talk to B’Elanna or Tom because loving you has isolated me from everyone! I had no one to talk to … Mark knew I was upset over something … he came over … let me cry on his shoulder … we had too much to drink … talked about old times, about us …”

I turn from her, not wanting to watch her as she talks about sleeping with another man.

“I swear, it only happened that one time … we both knew it was a mistake … it was closure on our past … he loves his wife … and I love you, Chakotay.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“No, not really. It was quick and it was a mistake and its one I’m going to regret for the rest of my life, but that doesn’t change how I feel for you!”

“Do you seriously think we can continue?” I yell, spinning around to face her.

“I love you …”

“You disgust me!” I spit. “Johnson’s welcome to you!”

“I don’t want him,” she sobs, reaching out for me.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t contact me! I never want to see you again, you got that?”

“Please …”

The door buzzes and we both know who it is. I march towards it, before finding myself hauled against the wall.

“Please, Chakotay,” she cries, staring up and me through tearful, blue eyes.

“I’m going to kill him,” I rasp, intending to push her off.

“Don’t …”

“Does he know?”

She shakes her head. “They know about the baby … believe he’s yours …”

“Oh, so I look like a complete bastard?”

Her gaze drops.

The door buzzes again and I shrug her away from me.

“I’m going to tell him the truth …”

“Please don’t …”

My hand hovers above the door mechanism.

“Please, Chakotay,” she chokes. “If you’ve ever cared for me … don’t do this …”

I stare at her. “That’s low, Kathryn, even for you.”

“Kath? Are you okay?” Johnson’s voice penetrates the door. Like he penetrated my Kathryn …

“Please,” she begs.

“You’re pathetic.”

“If you want me to crawl on my knees and beg I will … I don’t care … I have no shame here …”

“Evidently.”

The door buzzes again, accompanied by Johnson’s pounding fist. “Kath?”

I stare at the broken woman before me. She’s clinging to the wall with one hand and clutching her bastard swelling with the other. I’ve loved her for eight and a half years. I’ve swallowed my pride for her, risked my life for her, ate Neelix’s lousy cooked meals just so she could have my replicator rations for her coffee … I’ve lusted after her and been driven crazy by her. I’ve fantasised that we would spend our lives together, living in a cosy cottage with a homemade wooden tub. When I leave, I’ll be saying goodbye to everything and hello to a broken heart.

“I’ll keep your dirty secret,” I whisper.

“Thank you.”

I activate the door opening and shove my way past Mark Johnson, ignoring both his greeting and his quizzical look. I hear her sobbing my name and Johnson’s attempts to console her, but I don’t look back. Kathryn Janeway is dead to me.

* * * *

I choose to walk home, rather than transport, needing the time to sort out my thoughts. Images of Kathryn haunt me, her smile, her scent, her laughter, her humour, her broken spirit …

The house where I live with Seven looms and I hope Seven’s not at home. I’d thought about taking on one of Boothby’s boxers, but I think I’ve walked my anger off and right now, I want to climb into bed and never have to get up again.

What I don’t want, or need, is a conversation with the person standing in my lounge area - Voyager’s former Chief Medical Officer.

“What can I do for you, Doctor,” I growl, walking past and heading for the kitchen to grab a cold beer. Strike that, I’ll have a whiskey – a whole, fucking bottle.

“I asked him here,” Seven informs me, stepping into the room carrying a case.

“What’s going on?” I’m too weary for another one of Seven’s discussions.

“The Doctor called me this morning …”

The Doctor’s keeping quiet, I notice. “Go on.”

“Early this morning he noticed a discrepancy in his medical files. He asked for my help …”

“I’m a Doctor, not a computer programmer,” he injects then wisely shuts up when I throw him a glare.

“I ascertained that somebody had hacked into the medical database – into my patient records,” she adds and I have a nasty feeling where this is going. “This person performed a diagnostic profile on our unborn child’s DNA. They also performed one on Admiral Janeway’s unborn child. I believe they were comparing paternity data.”

“Do you know who it was?”

Seven’s brow arches. “Yes, as I believe you do too.”

I try to think of a response and fail.

“Lieutenant Paris is a devious and resourceful hacker, but he underestimated my involvement. I traced his signal back to Admiral Paris’ office.”

“Have you spoken to Tom?” I ask, slumping into her hard-backed armchair Seven has insisted on buying.

“Yes.”

“I see.”

“You had reason to believe you were the father of Admiral Janeway’s child, therefore, you have been conducting an adulterous affair with her behind my back. Correct?”

Her voice is pure ice, as is her glare. “Yes, but …”

“I was under the assumption that you had promised to forsake all others, is this not true?”

“I can explain …”

The Doctor ‘harrumphs’ in the corner.

“I do not wish to hear your explanations, Chakotay. I realise that this marriage has not been as mutually satisfying as we had both hoped, but I had always believed we would be able to resolve these issues. I had faith in you – in us – but now I discover that you have been lying and sleeping with another woman, a woman I considered a friend, my mentor in humanity. Tell me, did I miss the lesson regarding betrayal, or is this it?” Tears sparkle in her eyes.

“I, we,” I amend, ignoring the painful stabbing in my heart. “Never wanted to hurt you …”

“But you have.”

I stand up and approach her, holding a hand out for her to take. She refuses it. “I’m sorry … and I promise you it’s over … we can start again …”

“Your promises are worthless,” she says. “I am aware that your decision to terminate your relationship with Janeway is the result of you finding out that the child she carries is not yours.”

She couldn’t have hurt me more if she’d use her fortified Borg hand to punch me in the guts. “I …” What can I possibly say?

“I wish to end our marriage. I want you to leave.”

“But … I don’t want to …”

Her gaze shifts to the case at her feet. “I have packed some personal items for you.”

“This is OUR house, our home! I’m not leaving, Seven.”

She seems at a loss for a comeback and the EMH steps gallantly in. “Captain, please, have a heart. Seven is pregnant, with your child, it is imperative she remains here.”

Your child – another dig.

“I …”

“I will make arrangements to vacate the house by the weekend,” Seven promises. “But, please, I wish for you to leave. I do not want to see you again.”

“The baby … as you’ve pointed out, this baby is mine … you can’t shut me out completely!” Is this how Kathryn felt? Begging for consideration.

“Perhaps you should have considered that before.”

* * * *

Epilogue:

Six months later …

I pull up onto Seven’s drive and switch off the hover-car’s engine. Stepping out, I walk around to the rear door and open it to reveal Freya’s beautifully, cute, chubby face.

“Come on, angel, lets go and see mama,” I say lightly, hiding the heartache that I always get when its time to return my daughter to her mother.

I unfasten her from her car seat and lift her up into my arms, smiling fondly as Freya showers my chin with sticky, wet kisses. At two and a half months old, she already has me firmly wrapped around her little finger. From the moment I first saw her, in the crib beside Seven’s biobed; I have been utterly besotted with her.

Freya’s a beautiful baby and a complete joy, but I suspect every new parent says that. She inherited very little of my looks, fortunately, and is a perfect replica of her mother, with fair skin and pale blue eyes that seem to penetrate your soul. Despite earlier worries, Freya has not inherited Seven’s Borg implants, except for the tiny silver star in the middle of her tummy where her belly button should be.

I talk continuously to Freya as we walk up to the front door, telling her the things we’re going to do next week and how I’ll take her to see her uncle Tom and aunt B’Elanna.

Seven opens the door and greets us with a smile and Freya immediately lurches in my arms, waving her arms out towards her mother.

“Hello, sweetheart, did you miss mama?” she asks, taking our daughter from me and kissing her. “Did you have a nice time with papa?” Seven turns to me. “Was she okay?”

“She was a perfect angel, as always,” I reply.

“I am glad.”

I hand Seven the baby bag containing various supplies and essential sleeping partners. “We had a minor panic when Flotter was lost under the couch, but other than that …” I break it off with a grin.

“Ro’lec replicated three more last week, when we mislaid it, but Freya seems aware that they are not the original. Fortunately, we discovered it before bedtime.”

“Yeah, that Flotter does get into the strangest of places,” I chuckle.

We fall silent, but its not the same awful silences we used to have directly after our split. Seven kept her word; she vacated our house within the week, moving in with her business partner, Ro’lec. I know he and the Doctor were extremely supportive of her during her pregnancy and more than once I envied them.

I think Seven and Ro’lec’s relationship has changed in recent months, not that Seven has said anything, but she seems happier – happier than I ever made her.

“Business going well?” I ask.

“Yes, very. We are contemplating opening another restaurant on the other side of town.”

“I wish you well with that.”

“Thank you. How is your current project advancing?”

I tickle Freya’s chin and make her giggle. “Professor Gilbert and I have a meeting later this morning at Starfleet headquarters with Admirals Hayes and Paris to discuss our proposal.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you next week.”

“Yes.”

I take Freya and cuddle her tightly, showering her with kisses, before having to hand her back. “Bye my angel, papa loves you.”

Swallowing my tears I walk back to my hover-car and climb in. Starting the engine, I look back at the house just in time to see Seven and Freya disappearing inside. It hurts. Every time I hand Freya back it breaks my heart. What hurts the most though is the knowledge that I threw all this away.

* * * *

I head back to the small academy apartment I took shortly after my split with Seven. Entering, I survey the mess. How can one tiny baby create so much havoc? With a tender smile, I begin tidying Freya’s things, putting the toys back into the basket and returning her toiletries to my small bathroom. Satisfied that the room is once again tidy, I grab a quick shower and change my clothes ready for the meeting. I don’t think Hayes and Paris will appreciate me turning up with baby spit on me!

Thirty minutes later, and armed with a multitude of PADDS, I’m standing outside Owen Paris’ outer office, awaiting Professor Gilbert’s arrival. I hear his heavy footsteps, and even heavier breathing, way before I see him.

“Bob,” I greet.

“Chakotay. Are you ready to do this?” he wheezes.

I gesture to the PADDS in my arms. “All set.”

“This could be history in the making for the Academy.”

“Fingers crossed.”

We enter and are welcomed by Paris’ aide who shows us immediately through. Admiral Paris is seated behind his desk, but the chair beside him is empty.

“Come in, gentlemen,” he says and I’m not mistaking the animosity in his gaze when he looks my way. Keeping Kathryn’s secret has made me a few new enemies. I only hope that it doesn’t affect the Academy and my students any.

“Take a seat.”

Bob Gilbert and I dutifully sit.

“Before we begin, gentlemen, I must apologise for Admiral Hayes’ absence. I’m afraid he has a family situation that requires his immediate attention.”

“I hope its nothing too serious,” Gilbert ventures and I know its his way of probing for more details and, evidently in this case, it works because Paris goes on to explain how Hayes’ youngest daughter has been involved in a shuttle accident whilst on holiday in Europe. I nod politely, not really listening until I hear something that make me sit upright in my seat.

“… and so, I have had to call upon the only other person who has the in-depth knowledge required to make a decision on this project. Gentlemen, Admiral Janeway has graciously decided to join us, despite being on maternity leave, and so I ask you to please keep this brief. I’m sure we all recall how exhausted our wives were during the latter stages of pregnancy.” This time I know he’s glaring at me.

Paris taps his comm. badge. “Paris to Janeway, would you please join us, Kathryn?”

My breath hitches as I hear the door opening. Bob and Paris stand and I realise I should too. My legs feel like they’re shaking as I see Kathryn for the first time in six months. She’s heavily pregnant and it takes her a while to waddle over to the large table. I mentally do the calculations and realise she’s two weeks over her due date, unlike Seven who was induced a month early.

Paris holds out the chair and I watch as she slowly lowers herself into it with a grimace.

“Are you okay, Kathryn? Can I get you something before we start?” Paris clucks around her like a mother hen.

“No, thank you. I’m fine.”

I’m fine – Kathryn Janeway’s standard answer. She looks tired.

“Captain Chakotay, please sit down,” Paris says and I realise too late that I’m conspicuously staring at Kathryn.

“Sorry,” I mumble, returning to my seat, but unable to tear my eyes away.

“Lets begin,” Paris announces and I’m vaguely aware of Gilbert launching into our proposal.

Their voices are white noise surrounding me, because the only thing I can concentrate on is Kathryn. I silently plead for her to look my way but she doesn’t, she keeps her head down, looking determinedly at the PADD she is clutching. She appears pale, obviously the pregnancy has taken it’s toll and maybe our split has too. I’ve missed her and although Freya’s arrival helped heal some of the huge open wound festering inside me, a large part still remains.

“Oh, my God!” a wide-eyed Kathryn suddenly stammers.

We all jump to our feet but only Paris asks what’s wrong. An agonised groan is torn from Kathryn’s throat and the PADD she was clutching drops to the floor as she grabs her swollen belly.

“I …” her voice breaks off into another painful cry.

Without thinking I rush to her and take her hand. “Kathryn?”

There is a sound of dripping water and I peer down, noticing the puddle surrounding Kathryn’s chair.

“I think my waters have broke,” she whispers. “I’ve ruined your carpet, Owen, I’m sorry.” She moans again and almost crushes my hand as another contraction rips through her.

I smooth the hair back from her face. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” Her eyes search my face, trying to read the meaning behind my endearment.

“Not to worry, Kathryn.” Paris slaps his comm. badge once more. “Paris to Dr Pulaski, it seems Admiral Janeway’s baby has finally decided to make an appearance.”

“Is she safe to transport?”

“Affirmative,” Paris answers.

“She can answer for herself,” Kathryn growls.

“My apologies, Admiral, prepare for transport.”

“Chakotay, I don’t want to do this alone,” she rasps, locking her eyes with mine.

“You’re not alone,” I whisper, kissing our entwined fingers.

Paris takes control of the situation and orders a beam out for me and Kathryn to Starfleet Medical.

We rematerialise in a surgical bay and a middle-aged woman with short hair approaches us. “I’m Dr Pulaski,” she explains. “Could you please lift the Admiral up onto the biobed for me?”

Despite her pregnancy, I’m still able to easily sweep Kathryn up into my arms. She tenses, as another contraction rips through her. “You’ll be okay,” I say.

Her fingers grab my shirt. “Oh, God, it hurts!”

I place her on the biobed.

“We need to get these clothes off you,” the doctor says, unzipping Kathryn’s maternity pants.

I hover uncertainly.

“Don’t just stand there, Captain,” the doctor snaps. “Help me.”

I look at Kathryn and see her answering nod. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” she shyly says, before her body twists once more in agony.

“Can’t you give her something for the pain?” I bellow, hating to watch Kathryn suffer.

“I have to examine her first,” Pulaski retorts, removing Kathryn’s uniform pants and panties. Right, Admiral lets see how close we are to greeting your son.”

I try not to look as the doctor unceremoniously hoists Kathryn’s legs into a set of stirrups.

“Hmmm, five centimetres,” she announces.

“What does that mean?” I ask.

Dr Pulaski gives me a tight smile. “The Admiral has got to dilate another five centimetres before this child can be born.”

“How long will that take?” Kathryn’s hand is gripping mine.

“It will take as long as it takes, Captain. Nature won’t be rushed – not even for Starfleet Admirals.” She approaches Kathryn and touches her shoulder. “I’m going to leave you for a while but I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Yes … thank you …”

“I’d suggest you get more comfortable, there’s a gown on the chair over there and also one for you, Captain. Now, I have to ask, do you wish to change your mind regarding your decision on pain relief?”

Kathryn forces her answer out through gritted teeth. “No.”

“Fine, but if you do change your mind at any time, just hail me, okay?”

“Yes.”

Dr Pulaski nods then departs, leaving us alone.

“Why don’t you want any pain relief?”

“I want to feel my baby’s arrival.”

I frown, not understanding. “But you’re hurting …”

“I’ve been hurting for months, another few hours won’t kill me,” she answers, attempting to pant through the pain. “Could you pass me that gown? I’ve no intention of giving birth in my uniform.”

I grab the gown and pause again. “Do you need assistance?”

“Yes, but if that makes you uncomfortable, I’m sure one of the nurses could help me.”

“I’d like to.”

“Okay.”

I lift her up and together we push and pull at her clothing until it falls onto the floor. Helping her into the front-fastening gown, I try not to stare at her body.

“I’m sorry … I know this can’t be easy for you …”

“You’re beautiful,” I solemnly whisper.

Her eyes meet mine and I think for one moment that she’s going to say something, instead her eyes suddenly close and her face screws up, as another contraction hits her.

I hold her, trying to help and feeling utterly useless. I wish I’d been allowed to attend the antenatal classes with Seven, at least then I might’ve known what to do. She eventually calms as the pain subsides.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too. I wish I could help you.”

“Your being here is helping me.”

I smile at her. “Do you want me to contact your mother?”

Her eyes cloud over. “No, I haven’t spoken to my mother in a while. She doesn’t approve of me having this baby.”

“Oh.” I don’t know what else to say. “What about your birth partner?”

“I don’t have one,” she quietly admits. “My sister Phoebe agrees with my mother and although I have contact with Tom and B’Elanna, I wasn’t comfortable enough to ask either of them. Carla and … Mark … offered, but obviously that wasn’t an option.”

Hearing that bastard’s name still angers me.

“Maybe you should leave,” Kathryn sighs.

“No.” I can’t walk away and leave her here alone.

“Okay.”

“Did you ever … tell him?”

She holds my gaze. “No. What would’ve been the point? What happened was a mistake. We’re friends, good friends, and I love them both dearly. They’ve held me together these last few months.”

My reply is forgotten as I try to help Kathryn through another contraction.

“You know, for a man who’s experienced this recently, you’re pretty lousy,” she grunts.

“I wasn’t there,” I admit.

“What?”

“Seven was induced while I was visiting my cousin in Arizona.”

“But that’s only a transport away …”

“I know. I didn’t see Freya until she was four hours old.”

“Oh, Chakotay,” she pulls me to her for a brief hug and I take the liberty of inhaling the sweet, familiar aroma of her perfume.

“Its okay.”

Kathryn arches wildly. “Oh, shit, this hurts!”

“Do you want me to get the doctor?”

“No! Stay here, talk to me … tell me about Freya …”

* * * *

That’s how we spent the next six hours; me telling her tales of Freya, Miral and Tom’s latest scheme, and Kathryn gasping, moaning and practically crawling off the bed.

“Okay, Admiral, I want you to give me one final push. Can you do that for me?” Dr Pulaski asks.

“Oh, God, I want this over …”

“And it will be, soon, but you’ve got to help me, Admiral.”

Kathryn gasps. “I think … doctor … that given the circumstances … and since I’m clearly not in uniform … we could dispense with the formalities …”

“Very well, Kathryn, but I still need your cooperation.”

Kathryn is sagging against my chest and I know she’s completely exhausted. “Promise me this will be the last one,” she rasps.

“Promise, now come on, one last big push …”

I’m kissing her hair and whispering how proud I am of her.

“Urrrghhh!” she screeches, digging her nails into my arms as she bears down.

“That’s it, Kathryn,” Dr Pulaski soothes, “You’re doing very well.”

“You lied!” Kathryn sobs.

“One more.”

“You said that last time!” she hisses and I see a flicker of Voyager’s Captain.

I bend my head and speak quietly and calmly into her ear. “Come on, Kathryn, you can do it, you’re almost there, darling …”

Her naked body is drenched with sweat; the gown, along with Kathryn’s modesty, was abandoned a long time ago.

“What do you care? Why are you even here? You left me, you miserable son of a bitch!”

“Concentrate, Kathryn,” the doctor reprimands. “First we deliver you son and then you can hurl abuse at Captain Chakotay.”

“I’m not finished with you,” Kathryn growls then pushes with all her might, her tiny body trembling with the effort.

“Good girl,” I encourage.

“Shut up!”

“That’s it, Kathryn, I can see the head … just a little bit more …”

“Urrrghhhh!”

“Okay, Kathryn, you can stop now. The head’s out and I just need to ease his shoulders out.”

Kathryn’s completely limp in my arms. A moment later, a shrill wail pierces the air and the sound makes her sit up. “Oh …”

“I just need to cut the umbilical cord, Kathryn, and then he’s all yours. Unless you’d like the Captain to do that for you?”

She peers up at me. “Would you like to?”

I can barely see her through my tears. “I’d be honoured,” I whisper, releasing my hold of her and moving to the other end of the bed. “Spirits, Kathryn,” rasp. “He’s beautiful …”

Kathryn’s son is wriggling and screaming on the biobed between his mother’s legs and even though he’s covered in blood, he’s absolutely perfect. I can’t take my eyes off him.

“Captain,” Dr Pulaski softly urges, handing me a pair of surgical scissors. “You need to cut the cord here, okay?”

I nod dumbly and do as she says. As soon as I’ve done, Dr Pulaski lifts the baby and wraps him in a large white towel.

“Say hello to your son, Kathryn,” she says, handing Kathryn the tiny bundle. “He needs a little clean up, but that can wait a moment.”

Kathryn reaches for him. “Hello, sweetie,” she whispers through her tears. “Oh, my God, Chakotay … he’s perfect …”

I return to her side and lean closer. “He’s beautiful, Kathryn,” I choke, brushing his tiny cheek with my finger and overjoyed when he grabs it.

“I can’t believe he’s really here …”

“I’m so proud of you,” I tell her, kissing her hair.

“Thank you for staying with me.”

“I hate to interrupt,” Dr Pulaski begins, “but if you give him to the nurse for a moment, she can clean him up whilst we deal with the after-birth.”

“I’d almost forgotten about that,” Kathryn grouches, before kissing her baby and handing him to the nurse. I notice her eyes don’t leave her son and she’s watching, with a hungry fascination, as he receives his first wash.

“Right, you know the drill, Kathryn, push …”

The nurse carries him back and hands him to me with the words that break my heart, “I’ll give you to daddy whilst mommy’s being looked after.” I look at him lying contentedly in my arms. He should’ve been mine. I hear my father whispering to me, ‘He could be yours …’

Kathryn eases herself into a sitting position and reaches out to reclaim her baby. “Hello darling …”

Her smile is bright enough to illuminate the entire facility. “When will he need his first feed, Doctor?” she asks.

“You can try whenever you’re ready, but it generally takes a little while for your milk to come through.”

Kathryn’s eyes snap up. “But he won’t starve, will he? I mean, I’ll have enough to feed him, right?”

The doctor smiles indulgently at mother and son. “Don’t worry, Kathryn, everything will be fine. I’m going to give you a couple of moments and then we’ll transfer you to a private room.”

“Thank you,” Kathryn’s gaze is once more riveted to the tiny bundle in her arms. “Are you hungry, sweetie?” she tenderly asks, holding an enlarged breast to his tiny mouth and wincing as he latches on, sucking enthusiastically.

“Does that hurt?” I query, unable to tear my eyes away and thinking that this is the most beautiful, natural thing I’ve ever seen.

“Only a little – I suppose he’s a typical male!” she chuckles, stroking his dark, wispy hair and golden chubby cheek. “He has his … father’s colouring,” she falteringly whispers.

‘Your colouring, Chakotay,’ my father observes. 'Any man can conceive a child, Chakotay, but it takes a special man to become a father …'

“Kathryn …”

She looks up. “Yes?”

“I realise …”

The doctor’s entrance prevents me from saying anything more. “We’re ready to transport you and baby to a private room. Unfortunately, the Captain will have to make his way on foot – we are only allowed to transport mothers and babies. Sorry.”

“That’s okay.” I wonder if Kathryn will want me visiting her.

She must have sensed my indecision. “You will follow us, right?”

“If you’d like me too.”

“Would you rather leave?”

“No.”

“Good, that’s settled then.”

Dr Pulaski watches us with an amused expression on her face. “Well, now we’re all decided … Pulaski to transporter room, please beam Admiral and baby Janeway to room 810.”

I hold Kathryn’s gaze as she disappears.

“If you’ll follow me, Captain, I’ll show you the way to the Admiral’s room.”

* * * *

It takes me an hour, and plenty of soul-searching, before I arrive at room 810. I tap lightly, mindful that Kathryn could be sleeping.

“Come in.”

The run is bright and sunny, with views looking out onto the Academy. Kathryn, freshly showered and wearing a light blue robe, is sitting on the bed, propped up with an array of fluffy pillows. Her son is sleeping peacefully in her arms.

“I thought you’d changed your mind,” she says.

“I spent some time thinking … and shopping.”

She gives me a puzzled look.

“I brought this for the baby.” From behind my back I produce a small, brown bear.

“His first teddy,” she whispers, melting instantly.

I put the teddy in his crib. “Have you thought of a name yet?”

“I’ve been thinking about Charlie … well, Charles officially,” she amends. “Charles Edward – after my father. What do you think?”

I hesitate for a moment.

“You don’t like it.”

“Could I make a suggestion?”

She nods uncertainly.

“I think you should add another name onto the end.”

“Such as?”

“Kolopak. Charles Edward Kolopak Janeway.”

“That’s quite a mouthful,” she remarks, holding my nervous gaze.

“I know, but this way he inherits both of his grandfather’s names.”

She sucks in a breath. “Exactly what are you saying here?”

I sit on the bed beside her and gently hold her hand in mine. “These last six months have been hell without you and seeing you today, sharing all this with you, has made me realise I can’t walk away from you – either of you. I love you, Kathryn, and I know I’ve treated you badly, called you horrible nasty names … but I was lashing out because I was hurting … and if you give me a second chance I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I know I’m not Charlie’s biological father, but I’ll be the best father to him that I can, because I fell I love with him the first moment I saw him. I love you both; I want you both in my life. Can you accept my apology? Can you accept me and Freya?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes.”

“Just ‘yes’?”

Her eyes are glistening with unshed tears. “What more do you want?”

I’m grinning at her. “Well, an ‘I love you’ at least.”

“I love you. Happy?”

“Almost,” I whisper, leaning forward and capturing her lips in a sweet, tender kiss.

The End
Feedback??
Return to Main Index