Janeway stopped him in midsentence. "No! I will not have that emotionless woman touch me! Why, for all I know, she could still assimilate people!"

Her second in command chuckled at her vehement outrage with the very thought of the former Borg touching her.

She continued, obviously agitated at the entire thought of exposing herself so openly. "If anyone must do it, I would rather it be you. I feel the most comfortable with you...." she stopped suddenly, realizing the gaff she had committed.

He stood there, smiling at her. "Really? You are the most comfortable with me? Not with B’Elanna or Sam or..."

She turned and walked away from him, more than flustered by her unthinking comment.

"What I mean is..."

"Is what?" he continued, delighting in seeing her twist.

"I mean... we are comfortable with each other. We are good friends. We have seen each other in...um... less than perfect situations before, and..." She stopped and turned towards him. "All right. You will do it. And I trust you will remain objective."

He laughed, as he walked over to her, lightly taking hold of her small shoulders and gently pulling her towards him.

"Of course. This is nothing more... than performing a necessary duty. I think that you are far too sensitive about the entire matter. Now... stop being so coy; where is this horrible location?"

Her looked steeled, as did her voice, and she said with no emotion., "It is on the upper inside part of my left thigh, and apparently winds to the back and concludes on my... um... gluteus maximus."

When she first started talking, he had quickly become solemn, matching the mood which she presented. But, but the time her final words were completed, it was all he could do to keep from breaking into laughter. His hands loosened their hold on her shoulders, as he tried to contain himself.

"On... your..." and he stopped, unable to continue until he pulled himself together.

Janeway remained stoic, pulling herself into a formal, erect posture, her eyes daring him to laugh.

"You heard what I said, Commander. Now you understand why I was reluctant to discuss this with anyone other than the doctor. I can just imagine some of the talk that would ensue after the release of such information. Now, I am beginning to wonder if I should have even trusted your confidence."

The use of his title sobered Chakotay.

"Please forgive me, Kathryn; I didn’t mean any disrespect."

But his eyes were still laughing, and their infectiousness reached out and into hers. Suddenly, her shoulders began small, tittering movements, which cascaded along to her arms and legs and face. The rest of her body was quickly caught up in overpowering paroxysms of laughter, inviting him to join in the flippant absurdity of the very private joke, the seriousness of the situation being diffused with inherent silliness.

The tandem laughter threw the couple off balance, with their bodies’ responses to the emotion. And, suddenly, in one synchronous movement, they reached out to each other for physical support, to keep from toppling over. He again grasped her shoulders, his firm hold steadying her, just as she reached out... and up... and took his head between her hands. The sudden stillness brought a silent focus of their eyes and souls. Not a word was said, but they both knew their next move. She slowly pulled his head down close to hers, his lips opening to say her name.

"Kathryn..." he managed to whisper before her lips engulfed his ready and willing mouth.

The only noise heard in the room was that of two rapidly beating hearts, each attempting to match the thumping rhythm of the other. They seemed to have ceased breathing, so wrapped in the euphoria of the sudden action... each delighting in the exploration of the unknown of their tongues touching... probing... tasting; each exhilarated with the hungry responses of the other.

With every sip of each other, their hands began a new journey of their own. Her small hands slipped from the deep crevices of his cheeks to the further depths of his firm jaw. Plummeting into the strong sinews of his neck, each finger found new treasures in the firmament of his body... eager to learn all of his buried secrets. The plateaus of his wide shoulders allowed her hands to rest momentarily, only to begin their long awaited assault onto the hills and valleys of his chest.

His more encompassing hands proceeded with the tenderest of touches. Holding her like a delicate porcelain plate, his hands barely touched her upper arms as they slid down to her elbows. Gently, his fingers led back up her arms, now caressing the soft undersides. A slight shiver ran through her body, as she felt him now move towards the center. His fingers protectively palpitated the soft breast tissue, as he brought both of his hands towards each other, their common goal being to unite in the deep valley between her breasts.

She reluctantly drew back, her voice heavy with yearning.

"Chakotay... I’m sorry. I... I don’t know what happened."

His full lips, still glistening with the residue of their kiss, widened into a warm smile.

"Ummm... and I do believe that you precipitated this."

Her smile radiated back the aura of his. "But I don’t believe you tried to resist."

"I never could resist you," he answered softly, his fingers tenderly tracing the outline of her face, pushing back a weak, wispy wave of her hair.

She sighed. "This will never do. We have a job to perform, and I don’t think that our current frames of mind would provide the... um... objectivity that we need right now."

His smile took on a new mischieviousness. "Why, Kathryn... I thought you said that you could trust me!"

"I guess that it’s my own reactions that concerns me," she answer back. "If your touch can produce the sensations that they just have..." her words dwindled off.

"Sensations? What sort of sensations?" he teased.

She had turned away, hiding the flushed expression on her face. She walked quickly over to her desk.

"Let me see... here is my tricorder. I believe I can adjust it to scan an area up close by taking this and..." her voice dwindled, as she busied herself making adjustments to the instrument. Chakotay stood silently, smiling and observing her obvious ploy to distract him from the question.

"There!" she said triumphantly, turning once more to him. "That should record the pattern with detail, without allowing more... um...personal identifying characteristics to appear."

"Kathryn, we are going to have to let people know the source of the pattern."

"No, we are not," she stated firmly. "We will allow that it was discovered on an anonymous crew member; that is all the necessary identification that is needed."

"And you don’t think that there will be guesses made?" he chuckled.

She thought a minute. "Hmm. You have a point there. All right, you may identify me as the source, if and when it is necessary. We do not need to have this blurted out like orders of the day. But, please, Chakotay... do not mention the where."

"Of course not," he softly answered, now calibrating the instrument himself. But he knew... as did she... that there would certainly be gossip about that, also. Tom Paris just might become a very wealthy man…

She walked over towards the door to her sleeping area. "Umm... let me... ah... get ready for this."

"Certainly," he answered, smiling at her. "Where do you think might be the best... um... locale for our data collecting session?"

Her face responded with various emotional contortions as the possibilities quickly scanned through her mind. Nodding her head, she stated with affirmation, "Perhaps my bed would be the best place. The dark blue coverlet will make a good contrasting background."

It was his turn to put some thought behind an answer. "Umm... but Kathryn... although your bedcover is standard Starfleet, it also has telltale gold threads running through it indicating your rank. Don’t you think that there should be something a little less obvious?"

Once more, Janeway appeared quite flustered, but just as quickly brightened.

"The holodeck... Sandrine’s... the pool table! Nice dark green background... and anyone could be there."

"Sandrine’s it is," Chakotay agreed. "Let’s go."

Moments later, much to their relief, they found themselves outside a vacant holodeck, with no other crewmen around. Janeway quickly called up the familiar recreation program and they entered the popular venue. Sandrine met them at the door.

"Madame Captain, monsieur... bon soir! Zo good of you to..." she purred at them.

"Mlle. Sandrine, we wish some privacy. Would you be so kind..." Janeway asked of their holographic hostess.

The hologram winked at them, looking them up and down.

"But of course. To ze plaisir, n’est pas?" she winked at them, quickly disappearing through the curtained doorway in the rear.

"Privacy lock," Janeway then called out. She turned to Chakotay. "Um... I never quite prepared myself for this back in my quarters. Could I ask you to turn your back while I...uh... divest myself of a couple of layers of clothing?"

Chakotay’s grin became pseudo-licentious. "Whatever you say, Captain," he responded, slowly turning away from her. "But... I’m going to see you no matter how much your modesty forbids it," he chuckled. He could hear her slight grunts as she pulled off her slippers and the form-fitting leggings.

A minute or so passed before she responded.

"All right," she responded in a somewhat faltering voice. "I guess I’m ready."

He turned and looked at her, the tunic now performing as a miniskirted dress, her slender, naked legs pale in the dimmed light of Sandrine’s. Her leggings and shoes were in a neat little stack beside the massive pool table.

Chakotay walked over to her, the tricorder now held in the waistband of his uniform.

"Here; let me help you up," he said, firmly grasping her around her waist. She gave a slight upward leap, as his hands hoisted her slender body up over the edge of the table.

"Unghhh.... this surface is hard!" she allowed, as she quickly assumed a seated position, stretching her legs out in front of her. She daintily readjusted the short fabric of the tunic to cover what bare skin it could. His hands were still loosely around her waist.

"Perhaps you should lie down," he said huskily.

"Of course," she agreed, bending her body backwards, allowing him to guide her into the prone position. When she was down, he backed away a bit.

"Comfortable?" he half-asked, half-swallowed.

"As much as anyone could be, lying on a surface of very hard wood, cushioned by only one millimeter of felt," she half-answered, half-laughed.

Suddenly, they were both silent, as if they were holding their breaths and willing their hearts into stillness. For several seconds, the air became immobilized with their unease. Finally, Chakotay spoke.

"Well, we had better get this over with. Ready?"

She took a deep breath, as her shaking left hand reached towards the hem of her tunic. "Ready," she answered softly.

She closed her eyes, as she felt his right hand with the tricorder come closer to her body. She inched the garment up to within a few centimeters of her groin, knowing that the markings were now visible... hoping that nothing else was. She jumped slightly as she felt his left hand calm her left hand, helping her raise the material ever a little bit more.

"That’s it, Kathryn. I see it," his voice responded. A quick intake of his breath told her that what he saw was important.

"Kathryn... this is truly amazing! This is a continuation of my tattoo... this just might be our hope..."

She felt the barely perceivable vibrations of the instrument as he started his scan; she felt the moist warmth of his breath as his face came closer to monitor the area he was recording. The almost non-existent hum of the tool was being overtaken by the increasingly deepened cadence of his breathing.

Suddenly, his breathing stopped, as he barely said, "Um... Kathryn... I’m going to have to raise your tunic just a little more, and ... uh... you must spread your legs more, so that I can get the image of the coil as it... um... goes around...ungh... your leg..."

With her eyes still closed, and willing her own breathing to stay in control, she answered huskily, "Yes... all right." She raised the tunic; it now was several centimeters above her pubis. She bit her lower lip, knowing that she was revealing an area of her body to him that very few people in her life had ever seen. She heard his breathing take on a more shallow tone, as a very slight, guttural groan came from deep within his throat.

"That’s... fine... Kathryn... yes.. I can... trace it... fine... now."

She ceased breathing again, concentrating only on the hum of the tricorder, willing the session to quickly end.

A large heavy drop of warm perspiration fell from his forehead onto the cool, fleshy crevice between her leg and torso. The surprising sensation startled her.

"Ungh!" she said involuntarily, slightly arching her body and jerking her leg.

He reached down with his free hand to calm her.

"It’s all right; I’m sorry," he said, gently stroking her leg before he realized what he was doing.

Her left hand reached over and covered his, quieting him now.

"My mistake," she stammered. "Let’s finish," she shivered with the sensations of his touch reverberating throughout her body.

Several deep breaths from both of them brought their thoughts back to the job before them.

"I think we are just about there," he said. "I just have to get the final bit on your... um... back. Let’s roll you over now..." he said softly, putting the tricorder down on the table below her feet.

"Right," she responded, flexing her right arm and pulling it under her, as she shifted her body clockwise and lying on her right side.

He deftly rearranged the skirted tunic, pulling it up to reveal the last bit of the design, the elongated horn-like lines meeting at an infinity point on the rounded flesh of her buttock. As he scanned the instrument across the markings, his left hand gently followed the bluish form on her pale skin... so soft, yet so firm.

The scan was complete; he lowered the tricorder. But his left hand seemed immobilized on her skin. He knew that he mustn’t, but the temptation was just too great. He gently allowed his fingers to begin small feathery swirls across the soft roundness of her inviting body. He closed his eyes, lost in the sensation, but knowing full well that her hand was probably even now making its way back to his, to brusquely remove it from its trespassing. But she remained still... calm. The only movement he sensed was coming from her chest, as she exhaled a low moan.

"Chakotay..." she finally murmured, "help me... take... this.. off.." She rose and twisted into a somewhat seated position, pulling up at the lower edges of her tunic.

In a reflex action, he reached over and helped her raise the garment over her head, revealing her now completely naked body, poised enticingly on the pool table. She turned, swinging her legs over the raised edge.

"Kathryn..." he murmured, reaching out and tenderly easing her to lean back again, down onto the hard green surface. Her knees naturally flexed at the wide edge, and her legs spread slightly, once more allowing him to see the path of the design around her thigh. Thumb and fingers of his right hand seductively traced the completing portions of their hidden map, this time leading both of them onto another journey.

As his fingers lead the way, she groaned and pulled her legs further apart. He now saw another invitation, one that he knew she was silently offering to him. He leaned down and kissed the upper corner of the thatch of dark auburn down that presented itself. He lifted his head and quickly offered his fingers yet another area of exploration, this time one of warm moistness. His fingers once more traced a pathway, teasing and pleasing the deep red lips that were ready for him. In response to his touch, she raised her hips slightly, now opening a new delight to him. His fingers sank into the dark cave of delight that she presented.

If Chakotay were the searching treasure hunter, Kathryn was the willing reward. No longer elusive, she offered her wealth freely, drawing him deeper and deeper; her fortune equaling his... her ecstasy commensurated by his.

Her hands could not remain still; the tremors now racing through her body triggered tingles in the smallest nerve. A fever of flush filled her face, as her hand brushed the tense hardness in his groin. Her fingers shallowly grasped the hardness filling his lower uniform. Tandem groans arose, as his fingers found the soft site of her internal release.

He quickly withdrew his fingers, only to replace them with his warm, muscular tongue, continuing the blissful assault to her senses. His moans rapidly joined hers as he drank deeply of the rich flowing wine of her desire. Her trembling hands reached out and grasped the sides of his head, guiding him in yet another unknown mission. Suddenly, she released her hold, as her body could no longer obey itself. She arched her back upward, and with a muffled scream, she allowed herself liberation.

He stood upright, his breathing now rapid and shallow; he, too, was flushed with the hue of passion. However, his eyes were not glazed as her semi-closed ones --- they were wide and dark, glistening with the fervor of unfulfilled desire.

She looked at him through the haze of her climax, sensing his need. He stood there, his legs slightly apart, his arms splayed from his body. She could sense... smell... taste... see his desire, under the restraining bondage of his uniform.

In a husky satiated voice, she called him.

"Chakotay..."

He closed the space between them, as she reached out and started undoing the various fastenings of his uniform. Using his strong form as a brace, she pulled herself to a half-sitting position, and continued her ministrations. Silently, he allowed her to peel away the heavy layers. Only when he alone could pull off his thick boots did he pull away. He swiftly performed the last task, and now stood in front of her, at full attention, awaiting his captain’s next order.

Her eyes issued the silent command. He moved towards her as she once more laid back on the hard table. Gently, his hands rested on her inside thighs, the fingers of his right hand caressing the saving design that would lead them home... the design that had shown them the way. With the slightest of pressure, he urged her legs apart, allowing him a comforting, welcoming space. With a true aim, he entered her... slowly, firmly, surely.

She grasped her lower lip with her upper teeth as the solid silkiness of his tumescence filled her. She drew in her breath as he drew out; a gasped "ahhh" escaped her lips as he re-entered, this time deeper and more forcefully. A progressive rhythm of repeated motions drew each of them further and further towards the oblivion of sweet release. She raised her legs and locked them around his rocking torso, urging him to fill her with his fullness.

A sudden tremor of his thighs signaled her to relinquish her firm grasp. A cry came from the depths of his soul, as he plunged one last time into her, his climax releasing the tension of his body. An unsteadiness quickly overtook his legs, and he slumped over her, his arms on either side of her, his hands holding onto the edges of the table for support. He remained inside of her, as he descended from his crest. Ripples of aftershock of his orgasm sent lesser waves of sensation throughout her, and she reached up with one hand to caress his passion-soaked face, while comforting his heaving chest with the other.

Finally gathering the strength to speak, he gasped, "Kathryn... I’m sorry. I didn’t... mean... for this... to happen."

She continued wiping his cheeks and forehead.

"Shhhh.... it happened, and that’s all that there is to it."

His body was now completely exhausted, and he pulled back... and out of her. His head lowered itself, as limp and weary as his flaccid member. They remained in a silent repose, allowing themselves to assimilate the reality of the moment and summon the strength to move.

After several interminable minutes, Kathryn slipped off the table, and came over to him, drawing him close to her sweat-covered body.

"We knew that this was going to happen sooner or later," she said in a voice that was sweet and soothing, her face slipping into a sunny smile. "Little did we know that finding the way home for Voyager would also find the way home for us."

She took his face between her hands, and, as she had earlier in her quarters, drew him to her, and engulfed his warm, sweet mouth with hers.

"I can think of no better way of exploration. And you, my dear Commander, can really fly a ship!"

He became more animated with a slight laugh.

"Anything for my captain," he said, smoothing back her damp hair. "Well, I guess we did accomplish the primary mission."

She joined her alto laugh with his. "Yes, we certainly did. And we had better get those scans to astrometrics on the double, Commander."

"Aye, aye, Captain," he now laughed heartily, as they started picking up the scattered pieces of clothing from around the room.

Kathryn turned to the pool table to retrieve her tunic, and saw the dark circle of damp evidence of their lovemaking on the felt pool table covering.

"Oh, my," she said, embarrassed.

"It’s a hologram, Kathryn; it will disappear as soon as we close the program."

"You’re right," she nodded, as they tumbled into each other, their bodies still not fully recovered from the strenuous "workout", and fumbling with the clothing. Finally, they completed their task, and tried not to look too much worse for the wear.

"Perhaps I had better go back to my quarters and... um... freshen up before taking this information to Seven."

Janeway laughed. "Yes, perhaps you should. Our ever-inquisitive little girl would surely be able to tell that something was... um... not quite right about her senior officer."

One last smoothing of their clothes, and Janeway disengaged the privacy lock, turned, and said, "Save and close program.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The news about the matching tattoos and the strong possibility of their providing a map for a conclusion to Voyager’s long journey spread quickly throughout the ship. Captain Janeway had promptly reminded everyone that much still had to be done to ascertain the validity of the designs, but that there was much hope.

Most of the off-duty crew had opened Sandrine’s and gathered there for a raucous celebration. The music was loud, the drinks strong, and spirits were high.

Tom Paris was rounding up folks for a game of pool. As he was racking up the balls on the dark green felt surface, he noticed a circle of discoloration on the side of the table.

Sighing deeply as he called out, "Okay... who spilled a drink on the pool table? Is nothing sacred around here?"

And Voyager silently, swiftly continued her homeward trip.

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