by Andra Marie Mueller
AUTHOR’S NOTE: This story is a sequel to Ghostwriter's “Silent Night” and was written with her permission. While it is not necessary to have read her story to follow mine, I strongly recommend you do so.
Disclaimer: Paramount is the legal owner of the characters of 'Star Trek: Voyager'. I just borrow them for my own nefarious purposes and to give them real lives
“‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring not even a mouse.”
The quote from the ancient Terran poem filtered through Chakotay’s mind as he finished cleaning up the remnants of the evening’s festivities. Although Voyager was obviously not a house, the sentiment still applied. The Mess Hall was deserted, the party having wound to a close over an hour ago as the final crewmembers called it a night. Although not all of them celebrated Christmas or even understood its cultural and religious undertones, Voyager’s crew never overlooked an excuse for a party. Their five years together stranded in the Delta Quadrant had bound them together in ways no outsider could understand, making them more of an extended family than a crew.
“If we are a family, I guess that makes Kathryn and me Mom and Dad,” he mused aloud, the thought bringing a smile to his face.
The swoosh of the opening doors interrupted his train of thought, and he glanced over expectantly as Kathryn strode into the room. Surprised to see her but always delighted with her company, he flashed her a warm smile as she walked over to join him.
“Keeping watch for Santa Claus, Commander?” she inquired lightly.
“Pinch hitting for Neelix,” Chakotay clarified. “Samantha Wildman called him just after the party ended and said Naomi was refusing to go to sleep until Neelix had told her another story. I volunteered to handle the clean-up duties.”
“That was very thoughtful of you.”
“You’ve got the early shift tomorrow. Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?”
“I’m not really very tired.”
“Too much coffee?”
“Too much on my mind. Christmas always makes me a little more homesick than usual.”
“That’s only natural. Important occasions tend to remind us more strongly of who and what we’ve left behind.”
And what we’ve found in their stead. The thought passed through Kathryn’s mind unbidden, bringing to mind the kiss they had shared earlier that evening. Not quite ready to deal with the emotions it had aroused, she instead addressed the reason for her return. “I didn’t get the chance earlier to properly thank you for your gift,” she said. “The timepiece is lovely.”
“I’m glad you liked it.”
The gift in question was an old fashioned pocket watch, which Chakotay had presented to Kathryn along with another “legend”; the tale of a 19th century British Naval captain named Cray, whose ship was caught in a typhoon in the Pacific and considered lost at sea. But eight months later he sailed into London harbor aboard the battered remains of his ship with his crew alive. The tale and the meaning behind it had brought tears to Kathryn’s eyes, the expression on her face giving Chakotay hope that just maybe, the walls she had erected between were finally starting to come down.
“Was the story about Captain Cray true?” Kathryn asked.
Chakotay graced her with a faint smile. “Yes, that particular legend is. I found the story in the Federation archives a couple of months ago while doing research for Naomi’s history lesson, and given the parallels between Cray’s situation and yours, I wanted to find a way to share it with you.”
Kathryn smiled back. I love you, she thought. The realization caught her by surprise, as she had not given much credence to the possibility that she reciprocated the feelings she knew Chakotay carried for her. Yet admitting it now, even if only to herself, seemed to lift an invisible weight from her heart.
“Kathryn, are you still with me?”
Shaking off her wayward thoughts, Kathryn glanced at her First Officer. “I’m sorry, Chakotay. Did you say something?”
“I asked if you wanted to join me for a cup of hot cocoa?”
“I’d love to.”
“Pick a table and make yourself comfortable. I’ll get the cocoa.”
Chakotay crossed over to the replicator to get their drinks as Kathryn wandered over to a table adjacent to the window, and settled herself into the nearest chair. The XO joined her a moment later, handing her a mug of steaming cocoa as he planted himself in the chair beside hers. Flashing him a smile of gratitude, she took a tentative sip of cocoa before speaking.
“You replicate an excellent cup of cocoa, Commander.”
“I’m pleased it meets with your approval.”
“Quite a party we had tonight.”
“That it was.”
“Did you have any luck uncovering the person responsible for recruiting the Doctor to brandish the mistletoe?”
“To be perfectly honest, I didn’t really try. The gesture was prompted by goodwill, so in the spirit of the season I decided to let it alone. But whoever it was, I owe them. If he or she hadn’t taken the initiative to catch us under the mistletoe, it might have taken another five years before we had enough sense to do it ourselves.”
Kathryn quirked one delicate eyebrow. “Is that self-chastisement I hear in your tone?” she prompted, sipping at her cocoa.
Chakotay shrugged. “Let’s just say that as much as I enjoyed the results, part of me is a little miffed that it took someone else to make it happen.”
Kathryn permitted herself a small smile. “I trust you’re familiar with the adage ‘Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth’?”
Brown met blue. “That’s not the reaction I expected.”
“Certainly you know better than to think I would be angry.”
“Not angry. Embarrassed, maybe a little annoyed.”
“But not grateful, or pleased.”
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
Again he was surprised, uncertainty flickering across his handsome face. “For what?”
“For putting you in a position that would cause you to believe I would be anything but happy to share such a simple gesture of affection with you.”
“No apology is necessary, Kathryn.”
She afforded him a brief glance. “I do owe you an apology, Chakotay. From the day you set foot on this ship you’ve gone out of your way to make my burden lighter, putting aside your own feelings about Starfleet - and me - in order to ensure our crew makes it home. And in return you’ve gotten grief from your crew about wearing a uniform again, static from my crew about your past, and endless lectures from me about the importance of maintaining protocol. Yet you never once complained, or shirked your duty, or gave any indication of what you were going through. Quite frankly if the situation were reversed I doubt I could have handled it with the grace and dignity you have.”
I do what I do because I love you. “Then I guess that means you owe me one.”
Kathryn held his gaze for a long, silent moment before setting her mug on the table, then she gently but firmly cupped his face in her hands and pulled him toward her to meet her kiss.
“What was that for?” Chakotay asked when she pulled away.
“Consider it a down payment on what I owe you,” Kathryn answered quietly.
He smiled at that. “I must say I like your installment plan.”
She smiled back, but a moment later it turned to a frown as realization dawned on her. “It just occurred to me that I didn’t give you a gift.”
His smile widened. “I think you just did.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, Chakotay, but…”
“But nothing. The spirit of the season is about giving, not receiving, and you have given me more than you could ever know. You’ve restored my soul, Kathryn, and given me back a part of myself I never thought I’d have again. That means more to me than any trinket under a tree.”
Kathryn’s midnight blue eyes glistened with unshed tears and she lifted her hand to gently place her palm against his cheek. “You are the best thing to have ever touched my life,” she whispered. “I love you.”
Surprise briefly flickered in his dark eyes before he responded, “I love you, too.”
“Merry Christmas, Chakotay.”
“Merry Christmas, Kathryn.”
They exchanged a smile and another kiss.
The End.