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Usual disclaimers; TPTB don’t know how to do it, but we’ll
show them – for free!
Spoilers: A little bit for "Shattered" (NC-17) by Delta Story
(January 2001) ~*~
"Temporal prime
directive," she smiled back at him, her words smug and self-satisfied at having
caught him at his own game. She drained
her glass, purposefully savoring the last drop of the pale gold liquid.
His eyes, dark and
dancing, darted towards hers, his thoughts flashing back to an earlier
conversation she wouldn’t… couldn’t remember. Once more, Kathryn; once more; always the last word. His laughter was low and secretive.
"There is
more, isn’t there?" she asked, suddenly realizing that his thoughts were not of
the moment. His good mood faded; he
lowered his eyes, evading the question, saying nothing. She sank back into the sofa, a deep sigh
answering her own question; each of them suddenly sensed a chasm in the
camaraderie of the evening.
"Kathryn, you know I
can’t say anything more." He placed his
glass on the low table in front of him, leaning forward and clasping his hands
across his knees. "Suffice it to say that I had a replay of much of our past…
even though it was a future to you." He
looked up, his slow smile deepening his dimples. "Don’t worry; nothing changed.
I… I couldn’t face you if it had."
His statement sparked
her curiosity. She stretched her arms
wide across the top of the sofa, a mischievous smile on her face. "Why, Chakotay; why would you say that? Other than bypassing a thousand calamities
and disasters, threatening aliens and never-ending journeys, when has there
ever been a time that we would want to change our history?"
His eyes and smile
took on a slow smolder. "Oh, I can
think of a couple of times," he said, nervously swallowing the words and
reaching for the empty bottle, trying to change the subject. "Say… do you really want me to go get
another bottle? You’ve got to agree
that with all that has happened today… or whenever the hell it did
happen… that it’s something worth celebrating."
But she would not let
go of the topic, now that it had been broached. "You could have changed something, couldn’t you?"
"We can’t go there,"
he said, clearing his throat, obviously uncomfortable with her prodding. With effort, he tried to put a light spin on
the unspoken words. "We can’t go there
because… that part of our lives wasn’t even aboard Voyager, so it couldn’t be
in any of the space-time continuum splits brought on by the anomaly."
They sat in silence,
neither daring to even admit to that time in their lives about which they were
thinking. Finally, without speaking
specifically, she broke the silence. "Do you ever go there?"
He looked up,
smiling. "Often… but only in my
dreams."
She shook her head,
her voice coming in a nervous twitter. "You and those dreams! I can barely remember if I dreamed, much less
what they are about!" She shifted
uncomfortably, pulling her legs up underneath her and assuming a rather
defensive position.
"Do you think you
might… dream about that time?" he asked.
"Always."
"Do you think that we
ever… um… crossed any barriers?"
She hesitated before
answering, knowing that her answer might take them across that forbidden line
she drew so long ago. She swallowed
hard, knowing that her hesitance had given her away already. "Probably," she
said softly. Again, she shifted her body, skewing herself and resting her chin
on her forearm across the back of the sofa.
She looked out of the skylight, avoiding contact with his eyes, drawn
into an alternate universe where there was no such thing as Starfleet protocol.
He rose from the
chair and came over to the sofa, sitting behind her, daring to speak into her
ear… braving one of those barriers.
"Would you like to remember any of those dreams?" he finally ventured.
She turned to him,
his face convoluted by the knowledge of his trespass and by the naive hope that
she might take him up on his offer.
"Wha… what do you mean?" Her
face reddened with the realization that he guessed what she was thinking. She twisted herself so that she was facing
him… so that there was space between them… and his query.
He let out a little
sigh of relief; at least she hadn’t thrown him out! All right; let’s see if we
can proceed a little more with this,
he thought. "Kathryn, do you
remember a couple of years ago when we all had those bizarre dreams… created by
an alien… and you allowed me to enter into a state of lucid dreaming? I could teach you… how to do this… how to allow yourself to remember vividly what
you dream."
She tugged at her
tunic and suddenly became very interested in a piece of lint on the back of the
sofa. "Oh, I don’t know about
that. I seem well-enough adjusted not
to need to analyze my dreams."
"You’re not the least
bit curious?"
Her face became even
more flushed. "Chakotay, I… "
"Tell you what," he
continued, jumping up suddenly. "Let’s
clean up from dinner, and I’ll go get my akoonah
and show you how to do it."
Again, she
hesitated. "I really don’t think…"
He had moved over to
the eating area, already placing items into the recycler. "I’m not going to force you; I just think
you might find it interesting."
She walked over to
him, joining him in the chores. "It’s
been a long time since I’ve had anything to do with that mysterious contraption
of yours; sometimes it scares me…"
"I’ll be right there
with you. And I’ll teach you how to
wake yourself up, so that you can recall what you dreamed."
Her face took on a
look of surprise. "You mean you won’t
be staying with me throughout?"
He laughed. "You won’t need that; you’ll know when to
wake up."
"But… I’d feel ever
so much better if you did stay with me," she said, grabbing his arm in a
poignant plea.
He patted her hand
paternally. "All right; I’ll stay. Now… let’s finish here."
They finished their
domestic chore in record time. Chakotay
excused himself and returned shortly with his medicine bundle.
~*~
Chakotay reverently
opened his bundle on the table by the sofa, where they both sat.
"Do you remember the
words?" he asked.
She smiled. "Not really; it’s been a long time…"
"Yes, it has," he
smiled back at her. He moved to take
her hand, silently asking her permission.
She nodded her assent, and he took her hand between his, warmly guiding
it to the surface of the akoonah,
reciting the age-old mantra as he did so.
"Ah-koo-chee-moya – we are far from the sacred places of our
grandfathers, far from the bones of our people. We seek a sleep to remember our dreams of a time long past…"
Their hands rested
together on the mystical instrument, their bodies rapidly assuming a somnolent
state… neither realizing that his words had called both of them under its
spell, taking them together into a state of co-joined dreaming… of a time long
ago…
…He stood next to
her, having run out in worried response to her cries. She stood beside the bathtub he had built, wrapped in a towel,
pointing into the darkness of the woods.
"Out there… I heard something!"
she said.
A few moments later,
they knew they were no longer alone, that they had a "friend" on this desolate
planet, one that Kathryn hoped would lead her to a cure for their illness. She looked over her shoulder, seeking his
approval of her hopes and saw another message, one that should not have
surprised her. His eyes wrapped around
her, oblivious to the practical aspect of the situation, focused only on the
water glistening off her rosy flesh, naked in their desire of wanting her. Their eyes met, and the message could not be
more clear. She froze, afraid that any
movement would end in a response that she knew she couldn’t allow to
happen. "Chakotay, we can’t…" she
began. But her words had been enough…
just admitting that she knew what his thoughts… and yes, her thoughts… were. Even if she could find a cure, Voyager was
gone; they were going to be here for the rest of their lives. And she could no longer put off what they
both knew had been growing ever since that first fateful day in the Delta
Quadrant.
She said nothing
more, but stood there, her feelings raw and open to him. He lowered her hand from the towel,
loosening the knotted fabric that tenuously held it in place. She remained motionless as it fell into a
pool of fabric at her feet. She reached
over to him and eased him out of his vest… then his shirt. Her hands fumbled somewhat with the belt
buckle; he guided her movements, releasing its closure and slipping out his
pants. She backed him up and sat him on
the edge of the tub, helping him take off his boots.
"Maybe I should wash
first," he whispered, slipping a leg over the edge of the tub.
"No," she answered
quickly. "No… I can’t wait any
longer…" She pulled him out and away,
locking him in a slow, embracing dance across the grassy surface of the
clearing. Hands roamed and explored,
eager to discover new territories; mouths devoured one another, their bodies
equally hungry in their long fast of denial.
He backed her up
against a partially fallen tree, its upward surface thick with moss, forming a
dense cushion under the strained curve of her back. The broad, rounded breadth of the tree trunk urged her legs
apart, flailing each to a separate side of the thick column of wood; the limbs
could do nothing else but follow its burgeoning path. Her arms grabbed out around its sides, securing her body and
balance, spreading her legs further apart.
The bow of her back arched against the firm structure, accentuated by
the deep panting exploding from her body.
She licked her lips in anticipation.
The cool moss reached up and embraced her nether lips, its small stalks
caressing their warm engorgement. Swollen with her surging blood, engorged with
anticipation, the dark red labia framed the sacred orifice, issuing an age-old
invitation. Her warm wetness glistened off their surfaces, like the luscious
flesh of a ripe pomegranate… juices dripping with sweet succulence.
He dipped two
fingers, then three, into her luscious fruit, tenderly scooping the warm
interior walls, urging out the delectable juice of the flesh, eager to
experience all of her. His motions
urged her to raise herself higher… presenting an even more open display for his
delight. He pulled his fingers out,
replacing them with the broad swirls of his tongue. As his tongue sought deeper depths, his fingers, viscous with her
rich wetness, found the hard nub of her desire, straining up and seeking
him. He rubbed her slickness onto its
rounded surface, anointing her in long, loving strokes. His tongue again
followed the path of his fingers, slowly circling her labia, alternating its languishing
licks with sudden pulling sucks of her hard clitoris. She knew that she was going to explode shortly and wanted him
with her. He sensed her urgency and
pulled back, allowing her level to become more controlled. But her relief was only momentary, for as
soon as he knew that she was "in control again, he once more assumed his
teasing stimulation.
His body revealed its
own growing passions. He, too, was
straddling the tree, balancing himself on the trunk below her. With each movement he made to pleasure her,
the tree’s rivaling textures of its scaly bark and cushioning moss rhythmically
rubbed against the delicate sac of his scrotum, his twin balls rolling back and
forth over their surfaces, urging them into a heightened state of response, becoming
more and more compact and hard and firm.
The fleshy pillar of his penis replied to this silent message in its own
way, growing rigid and hard like the trunk that supported them, like the tree
itself responding to the warmth of the sun, becoming more and more insistent in
its own mission.
As he sensed the rise
of the imminent inevitable outcome for both of them, he slid up the trunk,
simultaneously lifting up her body and quickly impaling her onto his now firm,
upright phallus. He left her no time for
surprise, so quickly did he accomplish the act, so perfectly inserting himself
in her; he slid into her swollen welcoming cunt, seeking complete consummation
inside her.
Her eyes slowly
flitted open, only long enough for him to see the sight denied both of them for
so long – the smoky glaze of her pending sexual climax, hazy and ethereal,
their message for him alone. Her eyes
rolled back and closed as she succumbed to the guttural moan she had been
withholding so long. She leaned back,
allowing him deeper entry into her welcoming body. He put his hands in the small of her back, supporting her and
allowing him to push further into her.
They both began a slow dance of their balanced bodies, back and forth,
dipping and twirling, each following the inviting lead of the other, awaiting
the crescendo of their act.
The rhythms became
more intense, their motions matching the thundering beat until all the notes
became one. His hands held her tighter,
their bodies continuing the contrapuntal movements; deeper and deeper, harder
and faster… it was all a blur to each of them now. She could not hold off any longer; she leaned back, pressing his
shaft hard against her most delicate spot, sending her body and spirit into spiraling
paroxysms of light and energy. The
sudden pressure on his member was the only trigger needed for him to join her
in the eternal phantasm of sexual release.
In tandem, their
bodies remained frozen for several seconds, as light traveling faster than
sound. After several seconds, he took
a deep breath, as if he had not breathed for quite a while. He gently laid her back down onto the
surface of the tree, slowly pulling out of her as he did so. Her eyes languidly opened, suddenly fraught
with a look of fear of loosing him as he did so.
He understood their
meaning, and he leaned down and softly kissed her swollen, flushed lips, his
eyes and face warm and smiling. "Don’t
worry; you’re not going to lose me so easily."
As if to emphasize
his words, his relaxing penis twitched with an aftershock of motion, it surface
warm and sticky with their mingled fluids.
She reached down and encircled the softening phallus with her hand,
caressing and calming it, gently massaging the viscous remnants onto the cool
skin of his stomach and groin. The
organ, still in a heightened state of sensitivity, sent waves of request
throughout his body, triggering a rebirth of his manhood. He threw his head back, leonine and savage,
crying with pain and pleasure. "No… no… too soon… I can’t… we…"
"I’ll do the work,"
she whispered, her voice low and soothing.
She slid out from under him, deftly exchanging their positions, with his
legs falling to either side of the tree trunk, its mossy surface warm and wet
from the remains of their lovemaking.
He welcomed the
support under his back, sighing in relief.
His breath came in small pants; he was getting dizzy. He wanted to slow down long enough to fill
his lungs fully with oxygen, allowing his body to recoup and restore
itself. "Kathryn," he managed to say
between breaths, "don’t you think we should… aghhhhhh!!!!"
His request died on
his lips as her mouth engulfed him. Her
lips tightly circled just the first inch or so of his phallus, her tongue,
strong and dexterous, dancing around its circumference, icy hot in its
caresses. What he thought was spent
quickly revived, the spongy flesh expanding and engorging, straining against
the soft tissues of her mouth. One of
her hands surrounded the lower part of the member, matching the movements of
her tongue with a fractioned rhythm of its own up and down the slick surface of
his shaft.
Her other hand deftly
cradled the soft tissue encasing his hardening testicles, ever so slowly
closing her fingers tighter and tighter around the precious package.
Involuntary motions
took over as he began thrusting his hips up and down on the trunk, his hands
reaching back, wrapped around the trunk, anchoring their two bodies but
providing him with little flexibility.
Her glazed eyes slowly rose to greet his face, contorted in the pleasure
pain of the situation; a sheen of minuscule perspiration droplets glowed on his
face and body. Her enclosing lips took
on a slight slip of a smile, as she reveled in taking him deeper and deeper,
her fingers playing their magical music on his sensitive flesh.
He chanced a release
of one hand, the pleasure of her mouth becoming almost too much for him.. He
reached up and grasped her shoulder.
"Kathryn… I can’t… I want… ohhhhh!!!!"
She slowly pulled
away, his swollen hot penis slowly sliding from her opening lips. She moved her hand, gently calming it… and
him. "What? What do you want?" she
purred, her voice low and feline.
"You… inside… I want
to be… inside… you…" he moaned.
She slithered out of
her position and stood, only to quickly re-position herself straddling him, her
short legs spread wide to either side of him.
She planted her feet firmly on the
ground and lowered
herself the short distance between her still-wet thatch and his erect member,
leaving about a finger’s breadth between them. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," he whispered.
She lowered herself a
few millimeters more, allowing her nether lips to barely graze his slickened
tip. With the same control she always
maintained, whatever the situation, she brushed back and forth a few times,
long enough for him to feel the readiness of her hot lips against the
rhythmical throbbing of his organ. He
groaned as she backed away, only to feel her lean into him, her mouth hot on
his chest, her lips and teeth seeking his nipples. Gently but firmly she took one between her teeth and tugged ever
so slightly… tightly… pulling it up against the tautness of his muscles,
rolling it now between her teeth and tongue, flicking its aroused tip with her
tongue. He began bucking, his engorged
penis now thrashing against her inner thighs, anointing them with the pre-cum
that was oozing from him, pleading with her to put an end to this divine
torture. Still she tugged and teased
him. She reached her hand between her
legs and grabbed the beast between them, holding it still while she switched to
the other awakened nipple, her bird-like nibbles and nips, arousing bolts of
virile energy through his body.
He was losing his
balance; he needed both hands to anchor him to the tree, or they would roll
off. He was at her mercy, and he
desperately hoped that she would complete her task. Again, he pleaded with her, his voice small and helpless. "Kathryn… please…"
The time had come;
they both knew it. She stood,
positioning herself directly above him, and slowly lowered herself onto his
awaiting pleading member. He sighed as
her wet, warm chamber welcomed him, wrapping itself around him as she lowered
herself more and more, allowing him to seek the end of his journey. Their bodies sought to harmonize their erratic
oscillating movements, rearranging their rhythms into synchrony.
Higher and higher
they went… faster and faster. Her hands
moved from their hold on his shoulders to his waist, and she leaned back,
desirous of the full effect of his stimulation, wanting him to trigger that
secret place that would give her sweet release. As their center of gravity shifted, he released his hold on the
tree underneath him and grabbed her hips, quieting their gyrations so that he could
meet her in the completion that was so close.
Instinctively, he grasped the trunk with his knees, providing a new
foundation for their intertwined bodies, ripe and ready for imminent, impending
climax.
The combined states
of sexual and physical tension of their bodies anchored their positions, as
their motions blurred the silhouette of their bodies against the backdrop of
night. In one final fervent thrust, the
violent motion ceased, rapidly becoming quieting quivers. With only the sounds of sylvan nocturnal
whispers around them, their voices softly sang out each other’s name, a codicil
to their consummation.
Suddenly aware of
mutual stiffness from their acrobatics on the tilted tree trunk, they gently
eased their bodies off, onto the cushioned carpet of grass surrounding
them. They stretched and turned, but
didn’t want to let go of each other. It
had taken them this long to become as one that they could not… would not…
relinquish the moment. Like lovers spun
together into a cocoon, their arms and legs swirled around each other, further
united by the products of their lovemaking.
He began to soften inside her, punctuated by an occasional twitter of
aftershock; her body responded with a shiver of its own in response to his
movements. Their silent smiles spoke
all that needed to be said; the time for words would come. Their bodies became more relaxed; they
pulled apart, ever so slowly. He leaned
down and softly kissed each of her closed eyes… the tip of her nose… and then
her smiling lips. She sighed, and
snuggled into the curve of his arms, resting on his chest. They fell asleep, satiated by the sweet
satisfaction of sexual fulfillment.
~*~
Huh? his eyes
called out as he jerked awake, his mind still muddled in the murky limbo
between sleep and alertness. He felt a
weight on his chest; he blinked his
eyes, trying to adapt them to the darkness and reality. Remnants of dreams… of memories… told him
that the weight he felt was Kathryn.
Yes… that was it! They had been
summoning their spirits to… no, no! It
was only supposed to be her; he hadn’t meant for it to be… them… together!
His body, as well as
his eyes, shifted to attention as the mists of the other world cleared, as the
sensations he felt registered in his mind.
His night vision quickly acclimated, and the surrounding scene became
all too clear to him. Yes, Kathryn was
asleep against his broad torso; he felt the moist warmth from her steady
breathing and the fine silkiness of her hair – he felt them too well, too real.
He called for minimum
illumination in the room, while gently shaking her. If what he suspected was true, she was going to have enough of a
jolt when she awoke. Spirits… what have you led us into? he
thought, continuing his awakening motions.
"Kathryn… Kathryn…" he whispered.
He wanted to brush back her hair, to touch her; but he decided against
it.
She stirred, rolling
slightly onto her back and stretching ever so slightly. "Mmmmm," she murmured, lost in the remains
of her reverie. Her eyes batted open;
through sleep-laden slits, she saw his dark eyes, two glistening black holes
drawing her into their unfathomable depths.
She raised her arms, pushing away the vision vestiges as well as her
disheveled hair, a flush of red flowing up her face as she remembered the
dream.
He spoke before she
could. "You had a dream… and you
remember it."
She tried to stifle
the smile but couldn’t. "Yes, I
certainly did."
He responded calmly.
"I did, too."
It was just then that
several realizations hit Kathryn Janeway at the same time. She bolted upright and away from the man
seated next to her as the scene came into comprehension.
"Chakotay…" she managed to squeak, her hand reaching out
towards his chest… his naked chest.
He took her hands
between his, trying to calm her. He
nodded soothingly at her. "I know; and
I really don’t know what to say…"
In order to confirm
her suspicions… to guarantee that her mind and eyes weren’t playing tricks, she
called out, "Computer, lights at fifteen percent…"
Her gasp grew in
tandem with the summoned illumination.
She looked at him… then herself.
A mask of horror froze itself into her face. "Chakotay… we’re… we’re… "
"Without clothes…
naked. Yes, I know."
"Wha… what happened?"
she eeked out, her eyes now scanning the room, as she realized that they
weren’t on the sofa anymore but in her bed… a quite tousled bed at that!
He tried to put a
humorous spin on the situation. "You tell me your ‘dream’ and I’ll tell you
mine."
"Dream," she
muttered, shaking her head. "I’m
beginning to wonder…"
"If it really was a
dream?" he finished. "I am, too." His firm grip on her hands relaxed. "If I let go, will you promise to behave and
not get mad?" His smile widened into
his characteristic deep dimples, disarming her of whatever vitriol had begun to
surface.
His hands moved away,
and she laughed as she pulled hers to her side.
There they sat, their
legs curled up underneath them, an expanse of an arm’s length separating
them. Their eyes gleamed with a mixture
of delight, dilemma and discomfiture, their postures trying to regain a modicum
of modesty but merely making matters worse.
Silently, they took visual inventories of each other; it wasn’t
difficult to come to the same conclusion, of knowing what activities brought
them to this state.
The time for false
modesty was long over. Kathryn slumped down onto the bed, her arm pulled up
under her head as it found a place on a pillow, her body languidly stretched
out over the rumpled covers. There was neither malice nor malcontent in her
voice as she stated the obvious. "Well, I guess there’s not much more to
say. It looks like all those carefully
guarded protocols have been breached."
He leaned down,
brushing away a few flying strands of loose hair. "Does it upset you?" he asked softly but feeling his body tense
against an expected outrage of denial from her.
She took his hand in
hers and kissed each fingertip. "I
thought it would. But it’s quite
obvious what my subconscious has wanted all along." As if in affirmation of what she said, she placed his hand over
her heart. He smiled at the strong
rhythm that matched that of his own.
They remained quiet, lost in the communion of their hearts.
"Do you have an
explanation for what happened?" she asked, breaking the silence.
"No more than I do
for anything else that has happened today."
He smiled at her. "You’re the
scientist, Kathryn; what do you think happened?"
She was drawing
little designs with her fingers over the smooth surface of his chest. "I think that the more we learn, the more we
find to question. Alternate universes,
parallel lifelines, shadow worlds… who knows?"
"Is this the Kathryn
Janeway I’ve known for seven years? Is
she finally admitting that maybe there’s something which science can’t
explain?" he grinned.
She shook her head.
"Now I never said that…"
"No, but you’ve
always ‘poo-pooed’ any hint of not having rational or logical answers to each
and every situation."
She put a finger
across his lips. "I didn’t laugh at
your spirit guide, did I?"
"No; but you never
made another attempt to contact yours after that one time so long ago."
"True," she said, her
eyes sparkling. "But then I discovered
that I had you to guide me."
He nibbled on her
finger. "When you deign to listen to
me…"
She pulled her finger
away, and began running a line down his chin, his chest, his stomach. "I listen to you when I feel that it’s
necessary; you know that I’ve always valued your input… even when I’ve ignored
it." She stopped just below his belly
button, looking up at him mischievously.
"And what would your advice be to me now… with this particular
situation?"
"Honestly?"
"Honestly."
He took her into his
arms, resting his chin on the nest of hair on top of her head. "I would say that we accept it as the next
step in our relationship. I don’t think
we should make a big deal out of it; I truly believe that it’s the logical
progression in what we have felt for each other for a long time… yes, ever
since New Earth. Whether it was the
effects of our dual touch on the akoonah or some weird transformation of the
chronotonic bursts on that opened cider, I think that the spirits of the
universe were trying to aright things into a natural order of succession."
She sighed, sinking
deeper into his embrace. "What about
the crew? What do we tell them?"
"Do want my advice as
your first officer… or your lover?"
"Both", she answered
softly.
He breathed deeply of
her scent, rich and ripe with its post-passion intensity. "Nothing."
She pulled away and
looked into his confident face. "Nothing?"
"That’s right;
nothing. Kathryn, most of them probably
think we’re ‘an item’ already, and probably have been for a long time."
She still looked
shocked. "How can they think that? Why… we’ve… we’ve been the epitome of
decorum!"
He kissed her gently,
quieting her sudden uneasiness. "Well…
what would you think if, say, Harry and Seven weren’t seen in the mess hall
several nights a week, escaping to have dinner together behind the closed doors
of either of their quarters? Or if they
escorted each other to ‘official functions’, only to leave early, citing ‘duty
calls’? Or… if they continually touched each other, while on duty and in front
of any of the crew, in touches that seemed just a little too lingering for a
platonic pat…"
"Well, I’d certainly
begin to…" Her eyes reflected the horror of the realization that he had
described their very actions and situation.
She sighed, and fell back against the pillows. "That does paint a rather incriminating picture, doesn’t it?" She
propped herself on her elbow. "But…
surely Tom and B’Elanna… and Tuvok and the Doctor… surely they know that…"
"Do you want to ask
them?" he grinned.
"No," she
sighed. "Maybe you’re right; maybe we
have finally… put things right."
"Kathryn, I don’t
want to force you into admitting something that you don’t believe is right… or
true."
A peaceful look of
contented resignation crept across her face.
"No, you’re right… as you frequently are – but I just won’t admit. All
right, we’ll let it play out at its own pace and accord. Given our ranks, I doubt that anyone is
going to ask us point blank…"
"At least not until
the Alpha Quadrant and Starfleet," he grinned, knowing that there might be some
consequences then.
"Well, yes; then."
"And I’ll bet you a
hundred pieces of gold plated latnium that they won’t think too much of
it. After all, at least seven years,
for the most part imprisoned within the confines of a starship…"
"Oh, I’m sure there
will be a few more items in our logs from our years out here that will
overshadow any… um… dalliances between the two senior officers," she chortled.
His laugh, in answer
to her statement, was warm and intimate and understanding, just as they felt
right now. The troubled tensions that long had sustained the barriers between
them had disappeared as quickly and quietly as dew in the desert. They looked at each other, touched each
other, seasoned with their shared history over the years. Everything felt familiar yet new;
long-practiced touches finding new tactile sensations, awakening slumbering
emotions. Fingers traced features only
imagined in the past… hands caressed hidden flesh... mouths devoured forbidden
fruit.
The air around them
hung heavy with sexual kinesis, straining to be released with explosive
force. With great effort, he pulled
away, his words barely discernable. "Kathryn, I really should leave; it’s been
a long day… and I’ve got… we’ve got a lot to try to comprehend."
Every molecule of her
body silently cried out as he withdrew; was this how it had been for him all
these years? "No, no," she whispered,
her voice husky with unfulfilled desire.
"Stay the night."
He smiled at her,
feeling the heat from her body wrap itself around him and draw him once more
into her aura. "If you’re sure…"
She reached out to
him, pulling him into her waiting arms.
"As sure as I can be about anything anymore. Let’s just consider this as a segment in time which the
chronotonic burst split off, and then, when you merged all the segments with
your deflector dish trick, it just never got put back into time."
He didn’t need much
prompting as he pulled her back into his arms, their more-than-ready bodies
already searching for each other. He
kissed her, hard and deep, and slowly pulled away from her passion-swollen
lips. His eyes twinkled as he answered
her. "Who knows? That just might be what has
happened… and we are here in an entirely different dimension of the space/time
continuum!"
Chakotay watched the
rapid succession of expressions on her face, as the possibility that such a
scenario could be true registered in her mind. He smiled as he responded. "And I
guess you’ll never know."
~*~ FINIS ~*~
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