Triptych

Title: Triptych, 1/1
Author: Jaye (Copyright July 2003)
Codes: VOY C/7 PG-13

Disclaimer: Star Trek and all related characters and concepts are the property 
of Paramount. No infringement is intended or profit made. This is PG-13 for 
adult themes. If you aren't interested (or aren't old enough), don't read it.

Archive: Drop me a note first so I know where it's going. Please keep the text 
(especially the disclaimer) intact.

Feedback: Sure but if it's negative, at least make it constructive. E-mail is 
reader8901@fastmail.fm

Summary: Three people on Voyager think about Chakotay.

Note: Part 1 is set just after "Workforce, Conclusion", Part 2 "Human Error", 
and Part 3 "Renaissance Man". Originally written for the 2003 Die J/C Die 
Contest. I go by the original birth dates for Chakotay (2335) and Seven (2348).

***************

PART ONE: THROUGH A MOTHER'S EYES

Sam Wildman winced as she watched the door panel slide shut, cutting off her 
view of what would likely be Naomi's latest combination of temper tantrum and 
crying jag.

The air still reverberated with the echoes of their argument. Sam had lost her 
temper at Naomi's stubborn refusal to accept that she belonged on Voyager. The 
girl demanded to be returned to the Quarren couple who had adopted her. When Sam 
refused, Naomi stormed out to vent her pre-adolescent anger somewhere else. Away 
from the woman she refused to call "Mom".

It hurt, that her own daughter didn't recognize her.

A resigned sigh escaped Sam's lips as she wandered over to the shelf filled with 
holoimages. She ran her fingers along the framed portrait of her beloved 
husband, lingering. The ache of knowing he was so far out of reach was again as 
fresh as if they'd been thrown into the Delta yesterday. Admittedly, she was not 
in the best frame of mind to deal with Naomi's rejection.

Sam's eyes surveyed the collection of memories captured for display. Naomi's 
whole life was arrayed before Sam, from tiny blanket-wrapped bundle to the 
strong-willed girl she was today.

Fingers clenched into fists as Sam willed the fates to spark Naomi's memory---to 
bring her daughter back to her.

************************************************************

Sam didn't know how long she stood there, silent captive to her grief, when the 
door chime startled her back to awareness.

Her hands fluttered a moment, vague gestures of putting herself to rights. But 
Sam knew she looked a wreck. "Enter," she called.

She was surprised to see a chastened Naomi sidle inside, eyes down. Behind her 
came Chakotay, one hand resting lightly on Naomi's shoulder. His compassionate 
gaze assessed Sam as he nodded a greeting.

Naomi suddenly glanced up, and in that moment Sam knew her baby had returned. 
The girl's expression was half-yearning, half-fearful, and she seemed torn 
between pressing into Chakotay's solid frame for support and flinging herself 
into Sam's embrace.

Sam decided to make the choice easier, crouching down and opening her arms. 
"Come here, honey," she said, voice thick.

"Mommy!" It was a cry from the heart, Naomi's upset temporarily regressing her 
to a bewildered child seeking comfort.

Sam felt the thin arms wrap tight around her neck, even as she enclosed her own 
around Naomi's trembling form. "It's all right," Sam soothed, stroking the long 
red-gold hair, "it's all right."

"I didn't know---I didn't remember you. Or Voyager or Neelix or Seven or the 
Doctor or the Captain or Flotter or *anything*." Naomi tucked her face into 
Sam's neck.

Her daughter's horns pricked Sam's skin as she tilted her head to glance up at 
Chakotay's gentle smile. "What happened?" she asked him.

Chakotay shrugged. "I bumped into your wandering whirlwind---or more accurately, 
she plowed into me---in the hallway outside my quarters. She requested an 
immediate transport back to the planet." His smile widened to a sly grin. 
"During the course of our...negotiations...I started speaking in K'Tarian like 
Naomi and I always do when we're alone. It tripped something in her memory. She 
remembered me and a few of our times together when she was little."

Naomi pulled back enough to say, "Chakotay told me a story. *My* life story. And 
the more he talked, the more I remembered."

Her sad eyes tore at Sam's heart as Naomi whispered, "I'm sorry I was so mean 
before."

Sam smiled, and was relieved to see Naomi's whole being relax in response. She 
lifted a hand to cradle her daughter's cheek. "I'm sorry too, honey. I lost my 
temper even though I knew how scared you were when you thought you didn't belong 
here." She gathered her daughter back into her embrace. "I'm just glad you're 
back."

Naomi nodded, then abruptly clapped a hand to her mouth as she yawned.

Sam chuckled and stood. "You've had a tiring day. Why don't you get ready for 
bed. I'll be there in a little while to tuck you in."

"I'd like that." Naomi turned and walked over to Chakotay, who bent down to 
receive his own hug. "Thank you for helping me," she said in K'Tarian.

"Any time, dear one," he replied as he straightened.

***************

When Naomi disappeared into her room, Sam took a moment to go limp, the tension 
of the day leaving her an odd mix of agitated and exhausted.

Dark eyes flashed a quick awareness of her condition. "Why don't you sit down, 
Sam, and I'll dial us up a cup of tea."

Sam nodded and moved to settle in a corner of the couch. As Chakotay walked over 
to the replicator, she took a moment to ponder her commanding officer and 
friend.

In a way, it wasn't all that surprising that Chakotay had been the key to 
Naomi's returning sense of self. Of all the men on Voyager, he was the closest 
thing she had to a surrogate father.

Neelix had taken the part of beloved uncle, Tom and Harry big brothers. The EMH 
and Tuvok were less constant influences on Naomi's life.

But Chakotay had filled the toughest roles, teacher and loving disciplinarian. 
When Sam needed a break from meting out lectures or punishment to her 
rambunctious offspring, he was the one willing to make himself the bad guy. 
Chakotay had been a big help to Sam in showing Naomi right from wrong, proper 
from improper. How to think for herself and stand up for her convictions.

He had also been a good example of how adults didn't give in to children's 
whining, but didn't give up on the kids either. His steadfastness in that regard 
had instilled in Naomi a rock-solid trust that nothing had ever shaken. Years 
ago, when Naomi had defied Chakotay's orders and helped Seven pull Voyager out 
of the bliss-inducing, ship-eating phenomenon, there had been no signs of cracks 
in their friendship. They had apologized to each other and continued as they had 
before.

The bond between man and girl had first formed on Hanon IV, the barren planet 
where Seska and the Kazon had exiled Voyager's crew soon after Naomi was born. 
Sam remembered Chakotay offering to carry the baby after Sam grew too weary. She 
had known her daughter would be safe cradled in those strong and tender arms.

When they had gotten the ship back and things had settled down a bit, Chakotay 
had approached Sam with an offer to baby-sit occasionally---and something more.

As an anthropologist Chakotay had studied many other cultures, including 
K'Tarian. He'd offered to be Naomi's guide to the ways of her father's people, 
the language and culture. And stories.

Sam smiled. She'd been a touch embarrassed to learn Chakotay was more fluent in 
K'Tarian than she herself was. But it had been such a joy over the years to see 
Naomi form a connection to the tales and legends of a world she never had a 
chance to see. The birthplace of a man she never had an opportunity to meet. 
Sometimes Sam thought Naomi was more eager to see K'Taria than Earth.

As Naomi aged Chakotay had adjusted the lessons accordingly, adding works of 
history, literature, philosophy. Keeping up his own studies to stay a few steps 
ahead of his pupil.

And now he had helped Naomi find her way, find herself, once more. She sighed. 
Chakotay would make a wonderful father someday.

Sam felt gentle fingers on her own, wrapping her hands around a ceramic mug 
wafting forth the scent of chamomile. "Thanks," she said, smiling up at 
Chakotay.

His dimples flashed as he smiled in response and Sam was struck, not for the 
first time, at how handsome Chakotay was. He wasn't a flashy "pretty boy" like 
Tom or Harry, but in some ways much more compelling. His look was more mature, 
more masculine. The rugged planes of his face would have seemed forbidding 
except for his expressive dark eyes and that disarming grin. They made him 
approachable and warm---and sexy.

Right now, his face was filled with concern. "Will you and Naomi be all right 
after this?" Chakotay asked, cradling his own mug of tea as he sat at the other 
end of the couch.

"I think so." Sam sipped the fragrant brew, feeling its warmth suffuse her 
being. "Now that Naomi believes Voyager is 'home' again, I think the worst is 
behind us."

"I'm glad to hear it. You've had a rough time," Chakotay said.

"We all have." Sam watched him out of the corner of her eye. "It must have been 
really hard for you, seeing us all...that way." She wanted to show support as a 
friend, but hesitated to breach the quiet man's privacy.

Chakotay's expression turned wry. "You mean seeing the captain with Jaffen, 
don't you?"

Sam felt a guilty flush climb her cheeks. "I was just---um, I mean, we always 
thought..." she trailed off, ducking her head.

A rich chuckle from Chakotay brought her back up in startlement. She sat a 
moment, stunned, as he set his cup down and turned to face her more fully.

"Sam, does the crew really think I've been pining for Kathryn all these years?" 
Fond amusement softened his features as he looked Sam straight in the eye. "For 
the record, Sam, I'm not going to go into mourning because she managed to find 
some happiness. In fact, I'm sorry Jaffen didn't stay aboard."

Sam chuckled self-deprecatingly and relaxed. "I'm sorry, that *was* presumptuous 
of me. I think we all just assumed there was a reason you never sought out 
any...companionship. After all---" she grinned "---according to the chatter 
below-decks, you're quite a catch."

Chakotay grinned wickedly. "I'll keep that in mind." His mirth faded to a kind 
of wistfulness. "For a long time, I *was* carrying a torch for our fair 
captain." His hands lifted, spread. "But without nurturing even the strongest 
flame dies. So I finally accepted that it was time to move on."

"But have you?" Sam asked. "As a friend, I'd like to think you could make a fine 
match with someone on board." She leaned forward, teasing, "And as a red-blooded 
woman, I'd like to be sure you're not going to waste."

This time Chakotay laughed, the soft rumble making Sam shiver with feminine 
awareness.

"Now I *know* you're going to be all right, Sam, if you're going to say things 
like that." He clasped her hand briefly, then rose to leave.

At the doorway he paused and turned back. "Comm me if you have any more trouble 
with Naomi. I've taken you off the roster for a few days so you can spend some 
extra time with her, to get reacquainted."

"Thank you," Sam said. She watched as Chakotay nodded, turned and left. She 
sighed at the glimpse of what was hands-down the best butt on the ship exiting 
her quarters. "*Definitely* going to waste. What a shame."

Sam rose to tuck her daughter in, then prepare for bed to dream of her husband's 
own quite-respectable derierre, along with the multitude of other qualities she 
loved about him.

************************************************************
************************************************************

PART TWO: THROUGH A CHILD'S EYES

Naomi sat on an disabled cargo-bay console, swinging her feet to her own 
internal rhythm as she waited for Seven to finish her regeneration cycle.

She brightened as the ex-Borg's eyes opened. "Hello, Seven," she said as she 
hopped off her seat and approached the statuesque blonde.

"Naomi Wildman," was Seven's cool reply. She stepped onto the deck and powered 
up the computer Naomi had used as a chair.

Naomi accompanied her to the workstation, watching the woman's fingers dance 
across the touchscreen. "Seven, I was wondering..." she trailed off, biting her 
lip. Then after some internal debate, she straightened her shoulders and said in 
a rush, "I was wondering if you wanted to play kadis-kot with me because lately 
you're always so busy and I know kadis-kot is irrelevant so if you don't have 
time for that could I just maybe stay here and watch you work?"

She looked up hopefully, trying to appear as winsomely appealing as possible.

Apparently Seven was aware of that particular ploy. Her undecorated eyebrow 
lifted slightly as she returned her attention to the computer display. "I am 
behind on my work." But she was also apparently not completely immune to it. One 
corner of her mouth curled infinitesimally. "If you can avoid causing undue 
distraction, then you may stay."

"Great!" Naomi placed her elbows on the workstation and propped her chin in her 
hands. "What are you doing?"

"I am confirming that recent sensor enhancements are operating within acceptable 
parameters." The data whizzed by faster than Naomi could see.

Naomi's brows drew together as she considered her friend. Seven hadn't been so 
businesslike for a long time. She wondered if it had something to do with the 
secret project Seven had been working on so often lately. She hesitated to ask 
about it, since the one time she'd tried---during a rare moment Seven was 
actually willing to talk to her---the adult had left so quickly Naomi had been 
surprised not to see scorch marks on the carpet.

She decided on another tack. "We missed you at Neelix's cooking lesson 
yesterday. Commander Chakotay said he was sorry he couldn't persuade you to 
come."

Seven seemed to stiffen even further than her usual ramrod-straight posture, but 
she said nothing.

"He wasn't mad or anything---" Naomi hastened to assure her, "---he just said he 
was disappointed you were too busy to join us." She grinned at the memory. "He 
was hoping you'd exert your influence on Neelix. You're always so 
very...efficient in reminding him that there is such a thing as too many 
spices."

Seven seemed to hesitate, then said, "I'm surprised the commander would even be 
there. I thought he preferred the replicator."

"Oh, no. He doesn't get much chance to cook, but when he does it's always 
delicious." Naomi smiled warmly as she reminisced, "He taught me how to cook 
K'Tarian food---just like my dad ate when he was growing up."

Naomi noticed that again Seven seemed to still. Seven's voice was less than its 
usual confident declamation as she said, "That was...very kind of him." She 
seemed absorbed in her calculations.

"Yeah," Naomi agreed as she shifted position. "He walked me back to my cabin 
after the lesson because Uncle Neelix was busy cleaning up and Mom wanted to 
finish a project."

She sighed dreamily as her thoughts drifted. "I hope someday I find someone like 
the commander---'a real gentleman', my mom calls him."

Naomi contemplated the man she had once had secret dreams of marrying. He was 
strong, brave, handsome, funny, principled, smart, had those killer dimples and 
that awesome tattoo.

He wasn't *quite* Naomi's ideal husband---now that she was more grown-up Naomi 
knew Chakotay was too old for her---but she still had a bit of a crush on him.

"The commander has...many admirable qualities." Seven's statement refocused 
Naomi's attention. She looked up at Seven, and was stunned to see a slight flush 
on her friend's normally pale cheeks.

"My mom certainly agrees. She told B'Elanna the other day that it was a real 
shame Commander Chakotay was alone." At Seven's suspicious glance Naomi quickly 
continued, "I wasn't sneaking around or anything. They were talking about that 
project of mom's when I was studying for my astrophysics test and I just, well, 
happened to hear when they changed the subject."

"Because you also happened to fail to remind them of your presence?" Seven's 
eyebrow was arching again.

Naomi was afraid she was in for it until a hint of curiosity tightened the 
corners of Seven's eyes. She relaxed, relieved that not even ex-Borgs were above 
a bit of gossip.

"Did they ascertain a motive for the commander's reluctance to participate in 
human relationship rituals aboard Voyager?" Seven asked.

Naomi translated the Seven-speak into plain Standard and quickly shook her head 
in response. "No, that's what they were complaining about. They thought maybe he 
was stuck following the fratren---fraternat---"

"Fraternization rules?" Seven interrupted.

Naomi nodded, glad to hear the word again. "Fraternization rules," she 
enunciated carefully. "But B'Elanna said it couldn't be that because Chakotay 
always said that rule shouldn't apply out here, that people just had to be 
careful how they handled things."

"Perhaps the commander has already formed a personal attachment to someone." 
Seven's voice sounded strangely flat, even for her.

"You mean the captain." Naomi shook her head again. "No, that's what B'Elanna 
thought. But Mom said she *knew* Chakotay wasn't interested in the captain 
anymore. She didn't explain *how* she knew that he was before and wasn't now but 
she did say she was absolutely positive."

Naomi's horns shifted as her forehead creased in thought. When she wanted 
Chakotay for herself, she'd been a little ashamed of how jealous she was of the 
captain. After all, she was Voyager's official captain's assistant and here she 
was angry at the thought that the captain might marry Chakotay before she could.

But when she'd decided that she and Chakotay would be better as friends (not 
admitting to herself that that's all Chakotay had ever seen Naomi as), she 
became aware of how wonderful he was *as* a friend, a teacher. Even, maybe, a 
father. And she began to think Chakotay should have kids of his own.

But that was certainly something he couldn't do by himself.

At first Naomi thought he and the captain would be a good match. But as time 
went on she heard disturbing rumors about the captain not listening to Chakotay. 
She realized he was always so nice about listening to everyone's problems that 
he deserved to be with someone who would listen to him, too.

Besides, he told wonderful stories, and it would be a shame if his wife didn't 
want to hear them.

So now Naomi just wanted him to be happy, but she wasn't sure anymore who would 
make him look the way Mom did when she thought about Dad.

Or make that other person look the same way when she thought about Chakotay.

Seven's hands on her shoulders startled Naomi as she was turned to face the ex-
Borg. Seven's eyes were piercing as she stared down. "What, Naomi Wildman, did 
they speculate was the cause?"

"*They* don't know," Naomi said as she moved back a step, throwing her hands out 
for dramatic effect. "They just think it's a 'real waste of talent'."

A sudden thought struck Naomi, and she looked at Seven. "Do you know how to 
stall a turbolift?"

Seven appeared startled by the question. "Why would you require such 
information---or such skills if the answer were affirmative?"

"Well," Naomi replied, "B'Elanna said she was thinking of accepting some of the 
bribes from members of the crew. They want to be stuck in a 'lift alone with 
Chakotay---I'm not quite sure what they'd be able to do in there, though."

Again, Seven's attention seemed sharply focused. "Has Lieutenant Torres had many 
offers?"

"I guess." Naomi shrugged. "She said that if she took them all Chakotay would 
never set foot outside the turbolift and B'Elanna would be eating banana 
pancakes every morning for the rest of the trip."

Her eyes slitted slyly as she gazed at the ex-Borg. "That sounds like a lot of 
replicator rations. Are you *sure* you don't know how to stop a turbolift?"

"I have not answered in the negative---or otherwise," Seven said stiffly as she 
returned to her work.

Naomi glumly went back to her original spot. She wasn't *really* serious. "It 
was just a thought," she grumbled. "Besides, I think it would be nice for 
Chakotay to have someone---like B'Elanna has Tom." Her words rambled with her 
thoughts. "There has to be somebody who'd appreciate him. He's so warm and he 
gives great hugs and can cook and tell stories and he has such nice hands and 
that really neat tattoo and he's handsome and strong and so sweet and I remember 
from when I was little his hair feels soft and he can really make you think 
everything's going to be all right even when there're ships firing on you and 
the decks are shaking and I hear he knows how to give neck rubs and he builds 
things and carves things and can paint and his voice makes me all shivery and he 
smells good and I bet he can really kiss to make you hear bells and see stars 
like in those old movies Tom shows sometimes---"

Abruptly the console beneath her went dark. She looked up at Seven, startled. 
"Are you done already?" She didn't want to leave; she hadn't seen enough of her 
friend these last few weeks.

"Yes." Seven briskly led the way to the door, then glanced over her shoulder 
when Naomi didn't move. "You did say you wished to play kadis-kot, did you not?"

"Yes!" Naomi hurried over, glad she wasn't being dismissed, but puzzled as well. 
"I thought you said you were behind in your work?"

"I suddenly find I am in need of...distraction," Seven replied as she opened the 
door panel.

"Okay," Naomi said as she thought to herself that she would never understand the 
way Seven's mind worked.

************************************************************
************************************************************

PART THREE (CONCLUSION): THROUGH A WOMAN'S EYES

Seven had scanned herself with a medical tricorder, and was surprised to find no 
physical reason for her upset stomach. The odd jangling of her nerves was 
likewise due to no medical ailment the instrument could detect.

She was forced to acknowledge that ex-Borgs were susceptible to nervousness. The 
clicks of her heels sounded a counter-rhythm to her pulse as she paced the 
confines of the cargo bay, waiting.

The sound of the door panel opening stopped her in her tracks, then she swiftly 
moved to position herself by a console.

The fluttery feeling in her middle kicked up another notch as Chakotay walked 
into the room. Seven's eyes swept over him, taking in the way the black-and-red 
uniform set off the bronze tone of his skin, the grace of his movements, the mix 
of curiosity and concern on his handsome features.

"You asked to speak with me, Seven?" he said, stopping near her.

Seven seriously considered scanning herself for a mental imbalance at the rush 
of awareness at the proximity of the man and anxiety for the outcome of this 
meeting. "Yes, Commander."

Chakotay's smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I was considering making my 
first question 'Are you feeling all right?' considering that you *requested* my 
presence, and after shift at that."

Seven tentatively returned his smile, her lips trembling slightly. As much as 
she wanted to pose her question, she was suddenly tongue-tied, too paralyzed by 
a blend of shyness and awkwardness to begin.

Chakotay stepped closer, dark eyes worried and the smile fading from his 
countenance. "Seriously, Seven, *are* you all right? You don't seem quite 
yourself."

Seven dropped her head, studying her hands, afraid of that perceptive gaze. "I 
am---I'm fine."

A part of Seven was suddenly quailing at the very idea of initiating a 
relationship. She was rather surprised the Borg fail-safe switch hadn't 
activated in response to her upset. One small corner of her mind deduced that 
perhaps it was intimate emotion---lust or love---that triggered it.

Panic certainly didn't.

Seven started at the brush of fingers on her chin, tilting her face for 
Chakotay's inspection. "You really look upset, Seven," he said. "Are you still 
bothered by that scene with the Doc earlier?"

Seven jerked out of his light grasp, surprised at her sudden sense of loss as 
she put distance between them. "No, no. I---I've explained to the doctor that 
while I'm very grateful for his efforts to teach me about humanity over the 
years, his...feelings...are unrequited." She straightened. "I told him I hoped 
we could still be friends."

She couldn't interpret the flash of emotion in his eyes---it gleamed and was 
gone before she could fully analyze it.

"I'm sure he was disappointed, Seven, maybe even hurt or angry." Chakotay 
stepped closer again but only to give her shoulder a quick squeeze before 
letting go. "But believe me when I say that you did the right thing by telling 
him the truth. It's better than letting him linger in false hope."

"Like the captain did to you?" The question was out before Seven even considered 
the inappropriateness of it. She opened her mouth to withdraw the impertinence, 
but couldn't bring herself to do so.

Based on what Naomi had told her, she didn't think the captain figured into this 
equation. But some part of her needed the reassurance of hearing the words 
herself.

As everyone was so fond of telling her, she *was* only human.

Chakotay sighed, and his gaze seemed to be focused somewhere in the past. 
"Perhaps. I don't know how much was genuine encouragement and how much was me 
reading too much into the situation. But if there had been a clear moment when 
'maybe' became 'never', things wouldn't have been so...muddy...between us. As it 
is, I'm not even sure when I stopped yearning for Kathryn." He gave a rueful 
smile. "And I've never known whether she ever wanted something more from me."

"But you are certain you have stopped...loving her?" Seven asked the question 
carefully, her entire being focused on his answer.

"As anything more than a friend, yes, I'm very sure." Chakotay reached out 
again, this time lightly clasping her hand. "Seven, is that it? You're not 
entirely certain of how you feel for the Doctor and you're regretting turning 
him down?"

Seven suddenly reversed their hold so she enclosed those long, strong fingers. 
The contact made her tingle in a way Chakotay's hologram never had. The 
sensation gave her courage to continue. "No, Commander---Chakotay. In fact, the 
incident has done just the opposite."

He shook his head slightly, frowning. "I don't understand."

Seven took a deep breath and dropped her eyes to their joined hands. "The Doctor 
made his declaration because he thought he was decompiling. He wanted to share 
his feelings because he thought he would cease to exist."

Chakotay's forefinger shifted to stroke one knuckle, a silent encouragement to 
continue. A quick glance showed Seven he was completely focused on her.

She had often suspected that the crew made appointments for counseling simply to 
avail themselves of the feeling his regard engendered, a sense that for that 
span of time nothing else in the universe existed for Chakotay but his visitor's 
words and what lay behind them.

It was a unique sensation. Seven swallowed and continued, "His experience made 
me realize that I, too, have been concealing an...interest...in a fellow 
crewmember." She looked up and met his gaze. "I do not wish to make the same 
mistake, to wait until it is too late to experience a relationship with him."

Chakotay gave her hands a quick squeeze before he released her with a smile. 
"That's wonderful news, Seven. Did you want my help in approaching the 
gentleman? Is he on a different shift or something?"

"No." Seven got a hold of her failing nerve, reminding herself that she had 
faced greater terrors than this. She spoke quickly. "I do not require your help 
in that task. You *are* the man. I wish to initiate a relationship with you."

Myriad expressions crossed Chakotay's face. Seven was fascinated---it was like 
watching a nebula or the corona of a star, a constant flow of different 
emotions.

There was surprise---shock, probably, widening the dark eyes and dropping the 
jaw---confusion, delight, pride, embarrassment, lust, tenderness and affection.

But the final picture was one of regret. Chakotay's lips tightened a moment as 
he held some internal debate. Finally he sighed. "I don't think that would be a 
good idea, Seven."

"You do not wish to become involved with a Borg," Seven snapped, disappointment 
making the words sharper than she intended.

"No, that has nothing to do with it." Given his implicit rejection, Seven was 
surprised to see Chakotay edge closer to lightly grasp her elbows. "You're a 
wonderful person, Seven. You've come a long way in rediscovering your humanity. 
You have a fine sense of irony, an agile, tough mind, a unique perspective on 
the universe, a tender heart beneath all your bluster of 'irrelevance'. And 
you're very beautiful." He shrugged, releasing her. "I just don't think we're 
right for each other."

Seven couldn't doubt his sincerity. The truth of his words were clear in his 
eyes, his appreciation of her and his belief in their unsuitability. She asked 
simply, "Why?" It was a cry from the heart.

There was an air of knowing about him, not cynicism but an acceptance of the 
inevitable. Chakotay smiled sadly at her and captured her hands once more, 
drawing them together. He held her gaze as he answered, "Because you seek 
perfection in all things, Seven, and you'll never find that with me."

Seven shivered as he lifted a hand to cradle her cheek and the corner of her 
jaw, his thumb brushing the edge of her implant. "You see, Seven," he explained, 
"perfection isn't something I would ever aspire to. I'd never even try."

That revelation stunned Seven, as she had always assumed Chakotay was constantly 
striving. "Explain." She softened her tone, "Please."

"It's simple enough, Seven. Nothing that's perfect can be alive---sentient 
beings especially are too unique in their make-up to ever achieve any kind of 
ideal. And I value that individuality---it makes each person precious, as it 
does each moment I spend with them."

He shrugged. "If I was seeking a perfect relationship or a perfect moment I'd 
spend my time only seeing the flaws. And that's no way to live."

He leaned in to press a single kiss to her forehead, then stepped back. "I never 
imagined you'd be interested in me, and your telling me so is a gift I will 
always treasure. But the simple truth is that I'm afraid I'd never live up to 
your expectations."

When he started to move away, Seven instinctively grabbed his wrist, keeping him 
in place. He turned back, a question in his eyes.

His deep, dark eyes, that drew her in a way no others did. Seven studied his 
face, not knowing what she was searching for. She asked herself if he was right, 
if she had some picture of them in her mind from her holodeck experiments. A 
dream that would never be achieved.

Seven suddenly wondered why she was interested in *him*, out of everyone on 
Voyager. There was an attraction, a pull that went beyond his strength and 
intelligence, his warmth and compassion, his tenderness and steadfastness, his 
looks and charm. After all, he was older than she, and he had lived a rather 
unusual life. His perspective was vastly different from her own.

And yet...he understood her. Partly because he'd shared the experience of 
assimilation, but more because over the years he had honestly tried to grasp her 
point of view.

During the course of Seven's stay on Voyager others had offered support, but it 
came with a price. They were always trying to change her through cajoling or 
lectures or even force. They sometimes made fun of her differences---not 
intending to be mean-spirited, but still hurtful because they did not accept her 
for who she was.

Imperfect. They saw her as imperfect. In her own, unique way. The realization 
struck her---she wanted to be loved for who she was, not for who someone else 
wanted her to be. And the nascent woman in her had recognized Chakotay as a man 
who would give his heart without reservations or conditions.

But Seven now had to ask herself whether she was mature enough to take Chakotay 
as *he* was---his own blend of blessings and flaws.

She smiled, raising one hand to run a finger down his bold nose, feeling the 
small bump where it had once been broken. Chakotay's face didn't have the 
symmetry usually held as the human standard for attractiveness. He was 
imperfect.

Yet beautiful. Singly, compellingly, irresistibly so.

Chakotay stood quietly under her touch, his own slight smile tinged with 
uncertainty and a hint of shyness.

"Our individuality makes perfection impossible. I understand that," Seven said 
gravely as she stared into his eyes, hoping he could see the truth in her own. 
She gathered both his hands in hers. "But what if all I expected---all I wanted-
--out of the relationship was a chance tto explore that individuality. To share 
our lives?"

"Then, Seven," Chakotay replied with an achingly tender smile, "I'd say let's 
make our first date a toast to the journey."

And in that instant Seven knew a moment of perfect happiness.

THE END