All the usual disclaimers apply. The characters may belong to Paramount, but what they do between episodes, between scenes, and in my rather dangerous mind are my concern. This is, after all, my alternate universe.
A Kathryn Janeway Log
I've not mentioned this topic in any of my logs before. In fact, this evening I am creating a log that no one else--not even Star Fleet Command--will ever see or hear. It is my private log and I plan to keep it separate from Voyager's Computer.
I need to talk to someone about this, about Chakotay and myself and I don't feel comfortable talking with anybody else. Kes would be a logical choice--except I think she is in favor of such a relationship and I doubt could give me unbiased advice. Tuvok is another choice--except I also suspect he thinks I've isolated myself too much to.
Command Isolation. Command school teaches that we should be distant from our crew, a respectable distance: that works well for a six day or even a six month tour of duty. But it doesn't work for a tour of duty that has already lasted a couple of years and could possibly last a lifetime. I've tried to maintain an optimistic outlook, but it is becoming increasingly difficult to do so. Everybody realizes that the odds of a wormhole back to the alpha quadrant magically opening up next to us are remote. The crew is getting on with their lives, making the transitions to life in this ship, this ship that has become our home.
And me?
Since this odyssey began, I have had to deal with my growing attraction to the man I picked to be my First Officer. I ignored it for a long time--refused to admit there was anything there--evoked the name of Mark to keep him from pursuing his attraction to me. It didn't stop him.
And then we were left on New Earth, and he finally found the courage to tell me, in his own oblique way, that he loved me. How that story affected me, I was too scared to reveal. But he saw--and his courtship became more obvious. He started leaving me things--a bouquet of flowers, a bowl of my favorite mushrooms...Then Voyager returned and things returned to the status quo of before. Except our feelings could no longer be hidden from the other. He would stand a little closer to me than necessary. I found my hand lingering on his arm a moment longer than before. And his debates with me about command protocol, safety of the Captain--that I shouldn't take risks--took on a personal note.
We've tried to hide our feelings from each other and especially from the crew. It hasn't worked.
I've observed Tom Paris watch us. I sometimes suspect that he may have a betting pool on us. But I haven't wanted to pursue that investigation. I selected Tom Paris to serve on Voyager for several reasons: primarily because he knew the Maquis cell, Chakotay, and how they operated. But there was a secondary factor: I understood a little of what had influenced his life. We are both children of Admirals who managed to not find time for their families. I responded by driving myself to succeed at everything I did, he worked hard to fail at everything. In the end we both succeeded because we wanted to, not because of any overwhelming need to please a father who wasn't there.
It feels good to be able to talk like this--even if it is to machine.
There is an old adage that people will rise to the level of your expectations. It is true. Everybody on this ship has met my expectations and most have exceeded them. There is a sense of community developing that is stronger than on any ship I've ever served on. We work together not because we have to, but because we want to. OK, so we do have to, or we wouldn't get anywhere. But the motivation is stronger than simple need.
I've allowed myself to wander--sort of.
In the alpha quadrant, a relationship between a Captain and First Officer would not happen, especially if serving on the same ship. And would be very difficult to pursue if on different ships. As if that would even be a consideration. If we hadn't been pulled into delta quadrant, I wouldn't be making this log entry. He would right now probably be in some Federation jail along with the rest of his crew.
Strange the whimsies of fate.
I had never considered fate: the Caretaker had used some sort of displacement wave to bring us to him. A good scientific explanation, quantifiable, repeatable (if we could figure out how), and recently...A whimsy of fate. Since my experiences at the temple, I've been able to see that whimsey or capriciousness. It's also made me look at my relationship with the crew in a different light. I can't continue the myth of Command Isolation and survive as a person.
Which brings me back to the original purpose of this most private log.
Chakotay.
There is no question that he loves me, and I know that I love him. But how will the crew respond if we become lovers.
Probably with a party. There are probably a few who would disapprove, but I suspect the majority would be delighted. Because this is a community our home, we have no choice but to continue our lives here. Or fade away like the Chesire Cat and not even leave a smile.
I have spent a long time thinking about this. Can we become lovers and still work together? Can I still command him? Will my concern for his safety, put others at risk? Or the opposite, will my concern that I'm too concerned lead to putting him into greater danger? What if we have a fight?
I will talk to Tuvok. I just need to hear his logic, his unemotional words, to hear another perspective before I make my decision irrevocable, final.
A Kathryn Janeway Log
I talked with Tuvok for almost an hour, soon after I closed my first entry in this personal log. I hadn't realized how much I just needed to say what I did in that entry--to say it, to acknowledge the truth, to hear it.
I almost hesitated at his door, but went ahead. He raised his eyebrow only once, at the beginning of our conversation. He had not expected me to discuss the ramifications of a relationship with Commander Chakotay.
The two of them have developed a good professional working relationship and I know they respect each other's abilities. They are not friends, and may never truly be such. There is too much history between them. Tuvok worked for the Maquis and Chakotay, while spying for Star Fleet. I think Chakotay has *forgiven* him but not forgotten. The betrayal in his case was double--there were two spies working in his cell. Seska. She betrayed Voyager too. Yet at her death, he seemed to have forgiven her too. And she had betrayed him worse than Tuvok ever could. She had betrayed him as man. They had been lovers. The relationship had been over sometime before we entered the delta quadrant, yet we never talked about her. It was like he wanted to forget her completely. I watched as he looked at her body--maybe trying to remember the good, to come to terms with the betrayal, to say good-bye. He had been so tender--I had not been as forgiving, I had wanted to... I was never jealous of Seska, but I still have not been able to forgive her the hell she put us, the crew of Voyager through.
Tuvok and I talked for almost hour. He had known that Chakotay and I were attracted to each other. We discussed the hazards of such a relationship. Finally I stopped, I don't think I've ever come as close to losing emotional control in front of him as I did then. 'I love him,' I finally said. Tuvok passed no judgment on me, but started talking of the Commander's qualities. We also talked of Command Isolation and the worries I have that my command judgment is being affected by the very real loneliness I feel.
In the end he gave his approval--oh he didn't say 'Captain Janeway you have my permission to...' But by a look, that almost smile he has.
I had avoided being alone most of my young adult life and to be quite honest haven't always picked my *companions* well. But hindsight and a little age are good at finding the waywardness of youth.
Mark--my companion, lover for so long. I owe him more than a thought--an attempt at a telepathic link to say good-bye. But he's too far away and there is no other way to wish him well and happiness: to ask him to continue with his life as I have. He'd understand.
Now there is just one more person to tell, and I surprise myself by just how much I am looking forward to telling him. I have fantasized about this moment: the feel of his arms around me, his lips on mine...
Well, there is no time like the present.
A Harry Kim Log
Tom had invited us for a poker game in his quarters earlier this evening, just B'Elanna, Neelix, Tom, and myself. Neelix is a recent convert to the game. He says it resemble a Talaxian game called Spitela. Neelix is pretty good, and tonight was so we could try to regain our losses from last week. Tom can be quite a character, and recently it looks like he's been putting the moves on B'Elanna. The poker games in particular--he's gotten good at knowing when to stop riling her--just before her Klingon temper takes over.
Tonight was no different from the others--at least the beginning. Neelix was winning--like usual. He has an incredible poker face, which still throws me and tonight must have really thrown Tom, who was losing badly. We usually play for 3-4 hours, but after two Tom announced he was broke. Neelix had just raised the pot 2 rations and Tom was convinced he was bluffing, but neither B'Elanna or I were willing to loan him the 'funds'. So Tom offered information.
Tom is an observer--he notices and hears things the rest of miss. I can tell when he gathering information. He sits quietly watching everybody--but usually he has a target. If you need to know what is going on, ask Tom--he knows everything. Recently, since the Kazon captured and then *lost* Voyager, he's had a project. Unlike previous projects, he's been incredibly closed mouth about this one.
Well Tom wouldn't let Neelix bluff his way through this hand, so he offered a piece of information. Tom has done this before, usually the information is very good and gossipy. The offer was accepted. Neelix had 4 twos. Tom had a full house. We sat there waiting for him to pay up. He just grinned. I thought B'Elanna would strangle him, he took so long. Finally he said, "the Commander snores." That's all--and he was still grinning--there was obviously more, but he was saving it. B'Elanna swallowed her tea wrong and nearly spilt the rest over the table and card. "And how the hell do you know that Tom Paris?" I couldn't decide if she was angry or teasing him. Tom just replied, "That information will cost you," he picked up the cards and shuffled them. "Five card stud, aces wild." He won the next two hands so we didn't learn anything more until the third, when I won on a bluff.
Tom looked at us, still grinning. "I overheard someone tell him that." This got our attention. We looked at each other and smiled. We all had a pretty good idea who that *someone* was.
Tom lost the next hand too, and confirmed that the someone was the Captain.
That explained their awkwardness on the bridge today--I had wondered what was happening--so had everybody else. It wasn't anything really noticeable, except it was. After two years working together, we've become very adept at reading our colleagues. And their usual banter was missing. This had happened before, usually after they had had a disagreement--the mood on the bridge would be, tense and cautious. This time the mood was cautious, but with a happy undercurrent.
We'll be meeting next week to again try to win back our losses from Neelix.
A Kathryn Janeway Log
It is a night for reminiscing. I don't know why, but for some reason I am just staring at the stars and remembering.
I remembered when I first truly learned what Peace was--as I lay in his arms that first night. Not just in my mind, but in my heart, my soul. It was as if I had found something that I had spent my life looking for.
I guess I have. And had to travel across the galaxy to find.
He once called my brave, wise, and beautiful--three traits I would never have applied to myself. Had never used to describe myself.
Has being in the Delta-Quadrant changed me so much, or have I just learned to look at my world and myself differently? Or some combination?
Probably both.
Funny thing is, is the example I keep thinking of is my hair. I had never liked it. That's why I wear up most of the time. It's fast, easy, and I don't have to deal with it. I'd contemplated doing something with it over the years, but that would have taken time--time I'd wanted to spend on more meaningful things: science, studying, and research. Chakotay likes my hair, he likes to run his fingers through it, bury his face in it. He once called it sensuous.
I remember asking him why he thought me brave. He replied, that giving the order to destroy the caretaker's array was one of the bravest acts he'd ever witnessed.
He likes to tease me too. When I asked him why he thought I was wise, his reply was simply that I had finally wised up and crawled into bed with him.
Later he told me it was how I'd adjusted to life in the Delta-Quadrant, adjusting rules, protocol (that had been said with that wonderful smile of his) to fit our chancy existence. My willingness to accept people without condemning them because of their pasts. How I had managed to maintain a level of sanity, and a sense of purpose on Voyager. A ship far from home that had become our home.
Am I truly a different person, or is this who Kathryn Janeway always was. Just buried deep within, hidden.
Peace is found when you accept yourself as is. In both our cases, it took acceptance by another for us to find it in ourselves.