Title:  In Name Only
Codes:  J/C, P/T
Rating:  PG-13
Summary:  Set a few months after Voyager's return from the Delta 
Quadrant, and told from Janeway's POV.  Chakotay and Kathryn, to 
prevent Chakotay's new posting on a deep space vessel, decide to 
get married -- in name only.  However, their plan doesn't work out 
quite the way they imagined.

Disclaimer:  Paramount owns the toys; I just play with 
them.  (IMHO, I take better care of them, too.)   Anything 
and everything pertaining to Star Trek: Voyager belongs to 
Paramount, and characters you've never heard of belong to 
me.  

"In Name Only" copyright 1999 by JoAnna Walsvik; all rights 
reserved.  Parisite, ASC, J/C, and PTF Archives may post 
freely; everyone else, please ask permission at 
pt4ever@yahoo.com.  Thanks!  A copy of this story may be found at 
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Corridor/2171

Author's note:  Finally, here it is, the story that took me 
over four months to complete.  Why did it take me so long?  
Well, for one thing, it's 43 pages on Microsoft Word.  
There; you've been warned.  Please, please, please send 
feedback, good or bad, to pt4ever@yahoo.com!  This story is 
my first attempt at a major J/C fic, so please be kind.  

Dedication:  "In Name Only" is lovingly dedicated to my 
dearest friend in the entire universe:  Abbi Telander.  
Besides being a wonderful friend, cyber-twin, and 
confidante, she also happens to be the best dang beta-
reader this side of the Milky Way.  Without her this story 
wouldn't be possible.  Abbi, I thank you 47 million times 
over.   Love ya!!  **hugs**  :)
 
So, without further ado:


*     *     *


In Name Only
By JoAnna Walsvik


In all the years I've served with Chakotay, I've never seen 
him lose his temper.  I've seen him annoyed, upset, and 
even angry, but his rage has always been carefully 
controlled.  I've never witnessed a genuine loss of 
composure on his part.  

My experience as a Starfleet officer, a starship captain, 
and especially my journey through the Delta Quadrant, 
however, taught me one of the cardinal rules of the 
universe: there's a first time for everything.

I learned that lesson yet again when I watched my first 
officer -- that is, my *former* first officer -- stalk into 
my temporary apartment at Starfleet Headquarters with a 
face as tumultuous as a thundercloud but twice as fierce.   
At that moment, I ceased to wonder what the Cardassians who 
had died at Chakotay's hands felt during their last few 
seconds of life, because I now felt the same stomach-
twisting panic claw at my insides. 

Chakotay hurled his PADD at the wall with enough force to 
shatter glass.  Luckily, it bounced harmlessly off of the 
wall and landed several feet away from my feet.

"Goddamn son of a -- "  Whether Chakotay cut himself off 
because he was too much of a gentleman to swear in front of 
a lady or because he was so angry he could barely speak, I 
didn't know.   He savagely slugged the wall, grunted 
slightly as the pain of the blow shot up his arm, then 
curled his hands into fists at his side.  I could hear him 
breathing deeply in an attempt to control his fury, but it 
was several minutes before I felt it was safe to speak.  

I gripped the edge of the desk, feeling a ridiculous urge 
to run away.  "Chakotay,"  I said, rather timidly for me, 
"what's wrong?  What happened?"

He turned to face me, and I had to suppress the instinct to 
recoil at the residual anger that still lingered in the 
depths of his black eyes.  "I received my posting 
assignment from Starfleet today,"  he said, tension fairly 
crackling around him.  

"That's it?"  Judging from the ferocity of his temper, I'd 
expected something much worse, such as another world war or 
a large-scale natural disaster.  

Without a word, he snatched the PADD from the floor and 
slapped it down in front of me.  Long seconds passed before 
he could calm down enough to lower his voice to a 
reasonable level.  "They're sending me to deep space."

"What?"  Deep space?  It couldn't be.  Quickly, my eyes 
skimmed the official Starfleet communiqué.  The words in 
the document confirmed my fears.  "The U.S.S. Berman?  
Isn't that ship going to spend two years studying nebular 
activity in the Beta Quadrant?"

"That's right.  Guess who's going to be the first officer."  
He angrily jerked his thumb toward his chest.  "Me."

My heart sank to the bottoms of my boots.  What rotten 
luck!  "Oh, Chakotay, no.  We just got back!"

"Why do you think I'm so angry?  We spent six years -- *six 
years* -- in the Delta Quadrant, and not more then three 
months after we get home, they want to send me away again!  
Not only that, but they want me to spend two years doing 
nothing but charting nebulas.  I can't think of anything 
more dull."

"But why *you*?"  

He laughed bitterly.  "'My experience with deep space 
exploration will greatly benefit the crew and mission of 
the U.S.S. Berman.'  That's the official reason.  The 
*real* reason is that four of the six admirals on the 
Starfleet Posting Advisory Board had family that were 
killed because of skirmishes between Starfleet and the 
Maquis during the war, and they weren't happy when a former 
Maquis captain was reinstated into Starfleet as a 
commander."

I searched my mind for some way, any way, to rationalize 
the assignment.  There *had* to be a reasonable explanation 
for the posting board's actions.  Starfleet wasn't this 
unfair...was it?  "If that's true, then why didn't B'Elanna 
get a similar posting?"

Chakotay gave me an exasperated glance as he slumped 
heavily in the chair across from mine.  "She's married to 
Tom Paris.  Her father-in-law happens to have a lot of 
influence with the advisory board.  If they'd have given 
her a posting like mine, Admiral Paris would've raised 
hell, and they knew it."  

"Admiral Paris is a good friend of mine.  Perhaps if I 
speak to him, he'll -- "

"I've spoken to the admiral already.  I stopped by his 
office after I got the assignment, and he told me that 
since the board has already made their decision, he's 
powerless to stop it."  He sighed and tiredly rubbed the 
tense muscles of his neck with his hand.  "I'm sorry I lost 
my temper.  It's just -- I've had enough of deep space."

"Can't you appeal the decision?"

"I can, but Admiral Paris told me that the only possible 
way the decision could be overturned is if I had some ties 
to this sector -- a wife, or children, or both.  And, as I 
have neither, the chance of a successful appeal is 
practically zero."  

We sat in miserable silence, the seconds ticking away like 
hours.  I closed my eyes, desperately trying to think of 
some way, any way, to stop this horrible turn of events.  
Deep space!  For two years! 

I glanced up at him.  He looked the very picture of 
dejection, and I didn't blame him one bit.  My respect for 
Starfleet plummeted to one step above the regard I had for 
the Kazon.  How dare those pompous windbags on the Posting 
Advisory Board make such a decision!  Chakotay was an 
intelligent, courageous, and altogether excellent officer.  
He would have made a superb addition to any starship in the 
Fleet -- any starship, that is, except the U.S.S. Berman.  
If only he had some ties to this quadrant.  If only he 
had...a wife...

Like a bolt of lightening, inspiration struck.  My head 
snapped up, and my body followed suit.  I had an idea -- a 
wild, reckless idea -- but it was just crazy enough to 
work, *if* he'd agree.  

"What is it?"  Chakotay asked, most likely recognizing the 
gleam in my eyes.  

I grabbed his hands, holding them tightly in my own, and 
dropped to my knees in front of his chair.  "Marry me."

He blinked, then shook his head and laughed. "I'm sorry; 
what did you say?"

"Marry me.  Don't you see; it's perfect!   Starfleet won't 
dare post you to the Berman if you're married to Kathryn 
Janeway."  

He was staring at me in absolute shock, stunned speechless, 
so I babbled on, feeling the need to convince myself as 
well as him.  "If we were married, say in the next few 
weeks, you could use it as grounds for an appeal.  The 
admirals on the posting board serve two year terms, and in 
ten months the current term will be up. I know that Admiral 
Paris is on the next rotation for the board, and you'd be 
guaranteed an excellent assignment if you were to request a 
transfer after the rotation takes place.  We could divorce 
and go our separate ways.  It's the perfect solution.  What 
do you say?"

He was staring at me as if I'd grown three heads.  "I'm 
flattered, I really am, but...I can't allow you to make 
such a sacrifice for me."

I dismissed his words with a quick wave of my hand.  "What 
sacrifice?  We'd be married in name only.  Listen -- I've 
been offered a position on Vulcan, as the second in command 
at the Federation Embassy.  If we married, you'd probably 
be assigned to Starfleet Headquarters or the McKinley 
station.  We wouldn't even have to live together -- the 
only thing that'll be different from our regular lives is 
that we'd be listed as husband and wife on Starfleet's 
official records.  It's been done before by other couples.  
No one would suspect a thing."  

"Kathryn, do you have any idea at all what you're 
proposing?  *That* you're proposing?"

"Of course I do.  You don't want to live in the Beta 
Quadrant for two years, and...I'd miss you if you went.  
Besides, if I'm going to be working on Vulcan, I'm going to 
need someone to keep me sane."  

Chakotay grinned.  "I'd say you're way past that point, 
given the nature of what you're suggesting." 

"Come on, where's your sense of adventure?  Haven't you 
ever felt the impulse to throw caution to the wind and do 
something reckless?  Let's go and get married!  You can't 
*get* any more reckless then that!"

"I'd say more like irrational."  He looked like he was 
actually considering my offer.  "It does seem like the 
perfect solution,"  he admitted, "but it seems so 
dishonest.  I'm not sure how I'd feel about living a lie."

I decided to change tactics.  "I'm sorry,"  I said quietly, 
"if the idea of marrying me is that disturbing to you..."

"No, I didn't mean that,"  he said hastily, his 
overwhelming sense of chivalry kicking in, as I knew it 
would.  "I guess I just need some time to get used to the 
idea."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures.  If you have 
any other ideas, I'd certainly like to hear them."

I did have a point, and he knew it.  "Well..."  He took a 
deep breath.  "Okay, then.  I accept -- if you're really 
sure."   

"I'm positive."  I smiled and patted his hand, the absolute 
picture of confidence.  "Don't worry, Chakotay.  Everything 
will work out for the best.  You'll see."


*     *     *


We were married a scant seven days later in Admiral Paris' 
office, with the admiral himself performing the short 
ceremony.  Chakotay had submitted his appeal to the posting 
board the day before, explaining that he had recently 
become engaged and would rather not be separated from his 
fiancée, Kathryn Janeway, especially since we had decided 
to move up our wedding date.

We decided not to inform anyone, not even our closest 
friends and families, about the real reason for our 
marriage.  Gossip was apt to run rampant in Starfleet, and 
we didn't want to take the slightest chance of the true 
story finding its way to the posting board.  

To our friends, we sent communiqués informing them of the 
wedding, and to some of our closer friends, such as Tom and 
B'Elanna Paris, we'd included a short apology for not 
inviting them, using the excuse that we'd decided to move 
up the wedding date and didn't have time to notify everyone 
-- which was more or less true.

My mother, Gretchen, and my little sister, Phoebe, were our 
only guests.  I was half afraid that Mother would suspect 
something -- she's always had an uncanny knack for reading 
my mind -- but Mother was so overwhelmed by the sudden gain 
of a son-in-law that she'd cried throughout the entire 
wedding, and Phoebe had done the same.  Those two have 
always been overemotional.

The wedding itself when smoothly.  In fact, there was only 
one awkward moment in the entire ceremony -- when Admiral 
Paris told Chakotay he could kiss the bride.  I expected 
him to give me a peck on the cheek, but instead I felt his 
lips on mine.  The kiss only lasted a brief second, but 
when it was over I looked into his dark eyes and, for a 
fleeting moment, saw a glimpse of -- was it longing?  
Desire, or maybe just embarrassment?  I couldn't tell, and 
just as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone.  *It was 
probably nothing,*  I told myself sternly, and tried not to 
think about it anymore.

Admiral Paris swept me up in a congratulatory hug the 
minute the ceremony was over.  Usually he's very reserved, 
but, for some reason, he was absolutely delighted that 
Chakotay and I were now married.  I suspected that was 
mostly due to his son and daughter-in-law.  Upon meeting 
B'Elanna, the admiral had taken to her instantly, and loved 
her almost as much as his son did.  Tom and Owen were more 
alike than either of them realized.  

B'Elanna, I'm sure, had filled the admiral's ears with 
nothing but praise for Chakotay, and the mere fact that a 
man his adored daughter-in-law held in such high esteem was 
now marrying his favorite protégéé pleased Owen Paris 
beyond words.

My mother was in seventh heaven.  In fact, her exact words 
were, "It's about time!"  My sister, who has always been 
considered the beauty of the Janeway family with curly dark 
hair and big blue eyes, as well as a vivacious and outgoing 
personality, was, I think, actually jealous.  

Of me.  

Call me insecure, but I felt a tiny bit smug, and more then 
a little self-satisfied.

After the wedding, Chakotay and I were certain that his new 
assignment would be either on or very near Earth.  He was 
staying at my apartment with me, in my spare bedroom, until 
he received his new assignment.  The day after the wedding, 
he'd been informed that his appeal was successful and he 
would be reassigned as soon as possible.  Everything was 
working out perfectly.

We'd congratulated ourselves on a plan brilliantly 
executed, until our scheme hit one minor snag.


*     *     *


"You've been posted *where*?"  I stared at my new husband 
slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

"Vulcan.  I've been assigned to the Federation Embassy on 
Vulcan."  Chakotay handed me the PADD he'd received that 
morning from Admiral Fitzgerald, chairman of the posting 
board.  "It looks like we'll be working together."

"But -- "  I tried to regain some of my shattered poise.  
"This is impossible.  Starfleet has a policy about husbands 
and wives working at the same place.  They don't want 
emotional involvement to be a factor in decision making."

"If you'd have read the PADD, you'd have discovered that we 
don't work in the same department.  You're in the command 
section, and I'm in charge of the transportation division.  
I guess my piloting experience came in handy."  He smiled 
humorlessly.  "We didn't see this coming, did we?"

I felt numb from my head to my toes.  "I guess this means 
we'll have to live together for a while."

"It would look odd for a pair of newlyweds to live apart."  
He discreetly coughed into his hand.  "And, not that I'm 
suggesting it, but divorce would look even more odd three 
days after the wedding."

"Yes, it would."  I stared blankly at the shiny surface of 
the PADD until my brain started functioning.  "I have 
living quarters on Vulcan already...a small house not very 
far from the Embassy."

"How many bedrooms?"

I hoped he didn't notice the crimson blush creeping up my 
neck.  "Two."

"Well, I guess we'll be roommates.  When do we move in?"

Damn him.  Did he have to be so nonchalant?  "I have to 
report to the Embassy in one week."

"So do I.  So...in five days, then?  It'll give us some 
time to get settled."

"Five days will be fine."  My insides quaked at the 
thought.  Oh, God, we'd have to live in the same house.   
I'd have to sleep knowing he was right next door to me.  
The past few days, while he'd been staying in my apartment, 
had been hard enough.  How was I to stand it for almost a 
*year*?

"Will 0900 work for you?"  I asked, just barely concealing 
the trembling of my voice.

Chakotay picked up his PADD, absently tapping it against 
the side of his palm while he thought for a moment, and 
then nodded.  "I'll see you then." 

The door had barely closed shut behind him before I buried 
my face in my hands, blinking back hot tears that were 
pricking at my eyelids.  

This entire marriage had been *my* idea in the first place.  
Underneath his indifferent exterior, he was probably 
furious with me.  The wedding had seemed like such a good 
idea when I'd first thought of it.  I hadn't dared tell him 
the full reason for suggesting it -- that if he were to go 
to the Beta Quadrant, my heart would break in two from the 
pain of missing him.  That I loved him, and had ever since 
our time together on New Earth.  

It had been difficult beyond words to keep my face neutral 
during the ceremony.  I'd been so afraid that my face would 
betray my true feelings. When he'd kissed me, I'd nearly 
lost control.  I was fortunate that his lips hadn't 
remained on mine for more then a few seconds, for I'm 
certain I wouldn't have been able to pull away if he had 
kissed me longer then he had.  When Mother and Phoebe had 
begun to cry, I'd almost felt like joining in.

What in hell had I been thinking when I proposed to him?  
How was I going to live in the same *house* with him, let 
alone share meals or work together?  

If only I had some sign, any sign, that he felt any love 
for me at all.  On New Earth, it had seemed like he did, 
but after that he'd never made the slightest indication 
that he was interested in anything beyond friendship, even 
after Voyager had returned to the Alpha Quadrant and there 
was no longer a barrier prohibiting a relationship between 
us.  While in the Delta Quadrant, especially on a ship as 
small as Voyager, a relationship had been impossible.  Not 
when we worked so closely together and made decisions that 
could not be tempered with emotional involvement.  

And now we were trapped in this travesty of a marriage, and 
all because of *my* doing.  I didn't blame him if he never 
spoke to me again.


*     *     *


"Kathryn, where's the replicator?"  Chakotay asked, poking 
his head into the doorway of my -- our -- office in our new 
house.

"It'll be installed tomorrow,"  I replied, not looking up 
from the comm screen in front of me.   "The Vulcan who 
previously lived here destroyed it."

"*Destroyed* it?"  

I gave him an amused glance.  "Tuvok didn't go into detail, 
but I gathered it had something to do with the Pon Farr."

He grinned and came all of the way into the room.  "What 
are we supposed to do for dinner?"

I waved a hand absently and returned my attention to the 
computer monitor.  "I talked to Tuvok today, and he said 
that he and T'Pel would bring something by tonight on their 
way to visit their newest grandson."

"Another grandson?  Isn't that their fifth?"  

"Sixth, actually.  The last two were twins."

Chakotay whistled in admiration.  "His children have been 
busy.  What're you working on?"

"Just a letter to Phoebe.  She has an art showing on 
Betazed this week.  Which reminds me..."  I quickly shut 
down my program and pulled up another.  "We received a 
letter from Tom and B'Elanna today."  

He pulled up a chair next to mine.  "What's it say?"

"I don't know.  I didn't want to read it until you were 
here."  I punched in the appropriate commands and the 
letter appeared onscreen.

***

Dear Kathryn and Chakotay,

Your communiqué was quite a surprise!  We're both very 
happy for you, but sorry that we couldn't be at the 
wedding.  You'll have to come and visit us on Earth soon.

That's right -- Earth.  We've both been posted to 
Headquarters.  B'Elanna's going to be designing warp cores 
to put in the shuttles I'm going to design.  (I guess 
Starfleet was impressed with the Delta Flyer.)  Not exactly 
a glamorous lifestyle, but since I'm just an old married 
man -- ow!  

Sorry, B'Elanna just hit me.  Anyway, Chakotay, I know that 
married life will suit you perfectly, because you've been 
serious your entire life -- ouch!  B'Elanna, I'm just 
kidding!

All joking aside, both of us are really pleased with our 
assignments, because the same day we received your happy 
news, we got some of our own.  B'Elanna and I are going to 
be parents!  The baby is due in about six months, in the 
middle of March.  We're both very excited, and very, very 
happy.  I wonder....will the pitter-patter of little feet 
will be sounding around *your* house soon?  

Oh, B'Elanna wants me to tell you that if we were still on 
Voyager, she'd have won the betting pool we had about when 
the two of you would finally get together.  *I* would have 
won if you'd have gotten married six months ago, but, 
unfortunately, you guys didn't accommodate me.  I suppose 
it doesn't matter anymore, but B'Elanna's gloating just the 
same. 

We're moving to Earth in a few weeks, so I guess we'll see 
you then.  I'll contact you when we are moved into our new 
apartment.

All our love,

Tom and B'Elanna Paris

***

I couldn't believe it -- B'Elanna, pregnant!  "A baby!  How 
wonderful!  Owen and Elisabeth must be delighted."

Chakotay was shaking his head, but a smile was on his face.  
"Tom hasn't changed a bit, has he?"  

"You have to admit that B'Elanna's done wonders for him."

"She's not much better.  I never knew *she* was involved in 
the betting pool."

"Oh, everyone on Voyager was involved in that from time to 
time.  Remember when we went on that moonlight sail on Lake 
George -- on the holodeck?  And we had a picnic lunch?"  
That's when I'd watched as he had gathered my body in his 
arms, begging me to return to him.  During that moonlight 
sail, I'd almost said something, but my courage had failed 
me.  I pushed the thought out of my mind and concentrated 
on what he was saying.

"Yes, I remember."  

"The rations I used were from the jackpot of the week 
before."

Chakotay raised his eyebrows.  "What was the bet?"

I smiled wickedly.  "How long it would be before B'Elanna 
would bite Tom."

"Kathryn!  I thought the captain was supposed to set a good 
example for the crew."

"I won, didn't I?"

"You're incorrigible, you know that?"  His lips were stern, 
but his eyes were dancing with mirth.

I winked at him.  "I certainly try."

We laughed together, and I relaxed for the first time in 
many days.  *Maybe this won't be as difficult as I thought 
it would be.*

The door chime startled us both, and Chakotay rose to his 
feet.  "Probably Tuvok with our supper.  I'll get it."

He returned a few minutes later holding a large white box 
and thermos.   I sniffed the air and then sighed.  Whatever 
it was, it smelled heavenly.  "Steak, green beans, and 
mashed potatoes,"  Chakotay announced after peeking into 
the box.  "Thank God -- I was afraid he'd bring plomeek 
soup."

"Ugh.  Tuvok knows I can't stand the stuff."   I eagerly 
eyed the thermos he was holding.  "Please say that's 
coffee."

"Knowing you, Kathryn, what else could it be?"  

"Tuvok thinks I drink entirely too much coffee.  He's been 
trying to break me of the habit for years.  He could have 
very well filled that thermos with Vulcan tea.  That 
stuff's almost as bad as plomeek soup."

He smiled.  "Come on, let's take this into the dining 
room."

I rose to follow him, and suddenly it occurred to me that 
this was our first meal together in our new home.  Most 
newlyweds would be taking pictures right about now, but, on 
the other hand, Chakotay and I weren't the most 
conventional couple.

"Romeo and Juliet must be spinning in their graves,"  I 
murmured to myself.

"What was that?"  Chakotay asked, stopping in mid-step.

"Hmm?  Oh, nothing.  Nothing at all."


*     *     *


The next few weeks passed uneventfully.  I started my new 
job at the Federation Embassy and found that I did, after 
all, enjoy the work.  I'd been afraid that after living the 
adventurous life of a starship captain, Vulcan would seem 
rather dull and tedious, but after a few days I discovered 
that the monotony of the job was one of its merits.  There 
was no longer that element of unpredictability, the worry 
that every day might be my last, or the constant pressure 
to be "the captain"  -- larger then life, invincible, and 
invulnerable to pain or emotion.  There was no longer the 
concern over the state of disrepair that had constantly 
existed on Voyager, or anxiety because there wasn't a 
nearby base or planet to stock up on their supplies.  

For once, I had peace.  The decisions I was required to 
make were minor at most; none of the life-threatening 
situations that had been presented to me on a daily basis 
while on Voyager.   My officers were no longer young 
ensigns and lieutenants ripped from their homes and aching 
for their families; most were experienced Starfleet 
officers or thoroughly Vulcan -- calm and logical.

A little *too* Vulcan, actually.  When I returned home at 
the end of the day, I had to force myself to read a 
humorous holonovel or watch a sad movie; anything to show 
emotion.  It was silly, foolish, actually, but after the 
first days I kept feeling my ears to make sure they weren't 
becoming pointed.  

Chakotay was my lifesaver.  He, too, enjoyed his job, but 
not because it was relaxing.  His duties were to supervise 
the ferrying of various diplomats and ambassadors to and 
from the Embassy, requiring him to interact with almost 
every species in the Federation.  He also acted as an 
unofficial greeter; he was the first person that every 
arriving guest saw upon arriving and the last person they 
saw when they left.  He loved every minute of it, and I 
didn't have a problem seeing why.  

To use an old Earth term, Chakotay was a "people person."  
He delighted in hearing stories and traditions from other 
cultures, and sharing his own.  His previous Starfleet 
career had given him limited experience, but among the 
Maquis he'd been too busy dodging the Cardassians to more 
then briefly have contact with other races, and in the 
Delta Quadrant most of the aliens we'd met up with had 
either been hostile or hadn't stayed long enough to 
extensively visit with.

Now he was in his glory, in a job he thoroughly enjoyed, 
and at the end of the day he could hardly wait to share his 
experiences with me.  Our evenings together were often 
spent exchanging stories, although I rarely participated.  
Nothing worth describing happened in a office full of 
Vulcans, but Chakotay always had an interesting tale to 
tell:  about two Ferengi caught smuggling and had tried to 
bribe him so he wouldn't report the incident, or a riotous 
Klingon celebration that had taken place on a transport 
ship, leaving most of the crew passed out beneath their 
workstations from the effects of too much blood wine.

Whether his stories were funny or thoughtful, silly or 
reflective, I always went to bed with a smile on my face.  

Went to bed alone.

Went to bed alone, and laid awake until the wee hours of 
the morning wishing things were different, wishing our 
marriage wasn't in name only.  So many nights I had looked 
into his dark eyes and almost confessed my true feelings to 
him, but some hysterical, unfamiliar fear of rejection 
lurking at the back of my mind had caught hold of my 
tongue, and I had said nothing. 

It was puzzling that I, Kathryn Janeway, who had faced 
countless hostile aliens, strange phenomena, and even the 
Borg, was now frightened of mere words.  What if, I asked 
myself time and time again, Chakotay shared my feelings?  
As Tennyson had written -- "It is a far better thing to 
have loved and lost then never to have loved."   

But I couldn't take the dangerous plunge.  If his feelings 
weren't the same, if he wanted to remain friends, I'd 
shrivel up and die of either embarrassment or heartbreak, 
or possibly both.  

As much as I wanted to, I just couldn't do it.   


*     *     *


Oh, no.  Not again.  This had to be the millionth time I'd 
come home to find the house looking like a Klingon boar had 
rampaged through it.

Normally it wouldn't bother me, but lately, within the last 
few months, it seemed like every little thing nagged at my 
senses.  I couldn't remember the last time I'd gotten a 
good night's sleep without any of the endless tossing and 
turning that had become my custom. 

Chakotay seemed to feel the same way.  The last few weeks 
he'd been very quiet, barely talking or even looking at me.  
When he did say something, his tone was curt, as though he 
didn't want to waste any unnecessary words.  

As a result, the tension level in our house soared through 
the roof.  Sometimes I felt like I would strangle if the 
mood didn't lighten.

For some reason, tonight I was feeling especially 
irritated.  I hadn't known Chakotay was such a slob before 
I'd married him, and in the first few months after our 
marriage it hadn't bothered me.  Now, however, was a 
different story.  I became increasingly annoyed every time 
I had to pick up a PADD left haphazardly around the house, 
or a sweater he'd left lying on the floor once the cool 
Vulcan morning warmed.  

This particular evening was no different.  Was it too much 
to ask to come home after a long day at work to a clean 
house?  Maybe a hot, replicated meal on the table?  I 
didn't think so.  Yet here I was, exhausted, the house was 
a mess and there was no food in sight.

I could hear Chakotay tapping away at the computer console 
in our office, and as I made my way there, picking up PADDS 
that he'd lain around as I went, I could feel my anger 
smoldering just below the surface of my calm exterior.

"Chakotay."    

"Hello,"  was all he said, not even turning to face me.

"You left these lying around...*again*."  I slammed the 
PADDs down on the desk with a force that surprised even 
myself.

He regarded me with cool eyes.  "I'm sorry."

"You're *always* sorry, but you never even try to pick up 
your things."

"Kathryn, I said I'm sorry, all right?"

"No, it's not all right!"  All of the pent-up frustration 
and hostility that had been building up inside of me 
erupted, angry words pouring out of me like hot lava.  "I 
come home after a long day, totally exhausted, and the 
house is a mess!  Is it too much to ask for you to clean up 
after yourself like a normal adult?  I'm your wife, 
Chakotay, not your mother!  I'm so sick of having to live 
in a mess!"

"How would you know?"  he muttered, almost too soft for my 
ears to hear, but I picked it up all the same.

"What's that supposed to mean?"  I demanded.

"Maybe if you were home once in a while I would clean up, 
but I don't see the point since you practically live at 
your office!" he flared.

"I have a job!"  

"Oh, and I don't?  In case you've forgotten, we happen to 
work in the same building."

"Well, I'm partially in charge of that entire building!"

"There are three other captains besides you, and I don't 
see them working late every night.  You don't need to 
either."  He was standing now, his dark eyes flashing.

"Who are you to tell me what I do and don't need?"

"I'm your husband!"

"In name only!"  Oh, God, I had *not* meant to say that, 
but I was so angry that words were escaping from my mouth 
before I could stop them.

I hadn't thought it was possible for someone with 
Chakotay's skin color to turn pale, but that's what he did.  
"What's *that* supposed to mean?"  

"It means that this marriage isn't a real one."

"If that's the case, maybe I should leave."

"Maybe you should."

"Fine, I will!" 

"Fine!"

He stormed out the door.  I sank into the chair he had just 
abandoned, stunned.  Oh, God, what had I done?

I hardly ever cried, yet now I couldn't stop tears from 
trickling down my face.  I'd let my temper get the better 
of me, and now Chakotay was gone.  I felt as though I 
should run after him, but I didn't know what I'd say if I 
caught up with him.  

This moment had to come eventually.  The last few months 
things hadn't been right between us, and we'd both realized 
it.  I should have known the two of us couldn't continue 
like this forever.  No wonder both of us were unhappy -- I 
was a nervous wreck, loving someone who would never love me 
back, and he had grown tired of our arrangement.  No doubt 
he wished he was free to meet other women, have other 
flings.  I was standing in his way, and I was damned if I'd 
continue this farce any longer.  

When he returned, almost five hours later, I was lying in 
bed, staring at the ceiling and listening for his step in 
the hallway.   I'd been afraid that he wouldn't come back 
at all.  Even now I wasn't sure why he was coming back -- 
perhaps to get his things, or maybe even apologize.  
Whatever the reason, I was relieved beyond words when I 
heard the front door quietly hiss open.

I could hear his footsteps in the hallway.  "Chakotay,"  I 
called from my bedroom.  He paused outside the door for a 
moment, then stepped inside.

"I think we need to talk about this,"  I said, sitting up 
in bed and wrapping my arms around my knees.

"I think so," he replied, stiffly perching on the edge of 
my bed.  He refused to meet my gaze, staring at the wall 
instead.

"Look..."  I began, somewhat awkwardly.  "Things haven't 
been right between us for quite a few months now.  I think 
it's time that we...went our separate ways."

"If that's the way you feel."  He still wouldn't look at 
me.

"It would be more convincing if we separated for a few 
months before the...divorce...anyway."  I bowed my head and 
rapidly blinked back tears that suddenly insisted on 
flooding my eyes.  I had to fight to keep my voice from 
shaking.  "Would you like me to move out?"

"No."  His eyes briefly flickered over at me, then turned 
back to the wall.  "It's your house.  I'll move out."

"When...when do you want to leave?"  

"I can get an apartment in a few days."

"All right."  I reached over and touched his hand.  
"Chakotay, I'm sorry."

He finally looked at me, some unidentifiable emotion in his 
black eyes.  "For what?"

"For..."  *Everything,*  I wanted to say.  *For keeping you 
chained down when you want to be free.*  "For tonight, I 
guess.  I'm sorry I'm such a workaholic, and...I'm sorry I 
yelled at you." 

The corners of his mouth turned up just a bit.  "It's all 
right.  You were that way on Voyager; I don't know why I 
expected you to be any different here. I'm sorry I yelled 
at you, too."

We smiled at each other for the first time in weeks.  In 
his smile I found a sudden burst of courage.  *It's now or 
never.*  "Chakotay -- "

*beep*  The computer suddenly interrupted me.  "Incoming 
message from Tom Paris."

"What?  At this hour?"  Chakotay wondered.

"The baby!"  I exclaimed, throwing my blanket aside and 
running to the office console as fast as my feet could 
carry me.  Chakotay was close behind.

I reached the desk, threw myself into the chair, and tapped 
in the commands to receive the message as fast as I could.  
Tom's face appeared on the screen.  His blond hair was 
tousled and his eyes were bleary, but on his face was an 
ear-to-ear grin.  

"Sorry to call so late,"  he said, "but I thought you'd 
like to hear the good news.  It's a girl!"

"What?"  Chakotay hovered over my shoulder.  "Already?"

"She's only three weeks early.  She's perfectly healthy, 
and the doctor says she looks exactly like her mother.  
B'Elanna's furious with him, and I couldn't be happier."

"Tom, that's wonderful,"  I said, the smile on my face no 
doubt matching his own.  "What are you going to call her?"

His grin was so bright I nearly had to shield my eyes.  
"That's the best part.  We're calling her Elisabeth 
Kathryn, after my mom...and you."

*Me*?  They were naming the baby after *me*?  The shock I 
felt must have registered on my face, for the sight sent 
Tom into gales of laughter.  "We thought you'd be 
surprised."

"That's quite an honor,"  Chakotay was saying, giving me 
time to gather my wits.  "Congratulations, Tom."

"Thanks.  So, when are you coming to see her?"

Finally, I found my voice.  "As soon as possible.  I have 
some leave time coming up."

"So do I,"  Chakotay added.  

"Hey, that's great.  I'm sure B'Elanna and Elisabeth will 
need some time to get settled once they get home, so...how 
about in two weeks?"

"Perfect.  We'll see you then,"  I said.  "And, Tom...thank 
you so much.  I'm honored, I really am."

"Give B'Elanna our love,"  Chakotay said, "and Elisabeth, 
too."

"Sure.  Well, I still have to call Harry, and Neelix, and a 
bunch of others, so I guess I'll see you in a couple weeks.  
Paris out."

Tom's face dissolved and was replaced by a blank screen.  
For a few minutes, Chakotay and I sat in silence, both of 
us absorbing the happy news.  

Chakotay finally broke the silence by turning to me.  
"Well," he said, "would you mind if I delayed moving out 
for a few weeks?"

Tom's message had pushed all thoughts of the separation out 
of my mind, but at his words the memory rushed unpleasantly 
back.  "I...no, not at all,"  I stammered.  "Of course 
not."

"Thanks."  His eyes moved to the chronometer on the wall 
behind me.  "Well, it's late.  I think I'll going to bed."

He walked toward the hallway, but stopped in the doorway of 
the office and turned to me.  "By the way, what were you 
going to say before Tom's call interrupted?"

"I was -- "  My courage failed me.  "Nothing.  It was 
nothing."

"Oh.  Well, good night."

"Good night,"  I echoed as he left the room.  After I heard 
his bedroom door close, I slowly rose from my seat and went 
into my own room, straightened the disheveled blankets, and 
slid under them.  

Never had my bed felt more lonely.


*     *     *


"Oh, B'Elanna, she's *adorable* -- she looks just like 
you!"  My new goddaughter was the very image of her mother, 
with soft dark brown curls clustered around her little head 
and tiny brow ridges -- just like her mother's, only less 
pronounced -- on her forehead.

"That's what the doctor said when she was born."  B'Elanna 
sounded none to happy about it.  "Her eyes are blue, 
though.  They're just like Tom's."  Her voice held maternal 
pride mingled with satisfaction.

"I think she's perfectly beautiful."  I cuddled little 
Elisabeth, or Lissy, as she was now called, even closer.  
It had been so long since I'd held a baby -- not since 
Naomi Wildman had been born, and she hadn't stayed an 
infant for long.  Phoebe was as of yet unmarried and 
childless, and as for me...well, I doubted my dreams of 
children would ever come true.  Not now.  Not ever.

Though she'd only been a mother for a few weeks, B'Elanna 
must have developed a maternal skill for reading minds, for 
she said, quite gently for her, "Do you think you'll have 
one like her someday?"

I looked at B'Elanna, whose glowing eyes and soft smile 
made her the veritable poster child for marriage and 
motherhood, and forced a small, insincere smile to my own 
face.  "No.  I don't think so."

"You don't think you're too old, do you?"  She seemed 
amused, and rightfully so -- medical science had progressed 
marvelously in the last few centuries, and women far older 
than me were having healthy children.

"No, it's not that.  I -- I guess I'm just not cut out for 
motherhood.  The life of a busy Starfleet captain and all 
that."  I purposely made my tone light and nonchalant, but 
B'Elanna, somehow, saw right through it.

"What's the real reason?  What's the matter?"  she asked 
quietly.    

"There's nothing wrong, B'Elanna."  I couldn't bring myself 
to meet her eyes, so I focused my gaze on Lissy's angelic 
little face, stroking her petal-soft cheek with the tip of 
my finger.

"Yes, there is.  I've known you for so long...I can see 
something's not right.  Is it Chakotay?"

Damn stubborn Klingon.  "B'Elanna, please.  I'd rather not 
discuss it."

"It *is* Chakotay.  What's wrong?"

"I *said* I didn't want to discuss it,"  I said, more 
sharply than I'd meant to.  Lissy stirred in my arms and 
whimpered slightly, flailing her tiny fists.  I started 
humming a soft lullaby my mother had once sang to me, and 
the baby quieted almost immediately.       

"Kathryn, please."  I looked up and into a pair of sincere, 
deeply concerned brown eyes.  "I'm not your officer 
anymore.  I'm your friend.  Tell me what's wrong."

I nearly broke down then and there, but somehow I managed 
to contain myself.  "Well, Chakotay and I have been having 
some...problems...lately."

"Problems?  What do you mean?"

"We've been fighting...and..."  I decided to come right out 
and say it.  She'd have to find out sooner or later.  
"We're going to separate, B'Elanna."

She stared at me, her face devoid of all expression.  
"You're joking."

"No, I'm not."

"But...why?"  

"As I said, we've been fighting.  Things haven't been 
working out."  She seemed at a loss for words, so I plunged 
ahead, praying that her shock would keep her from pressing 
for more details.  "We were fighting the night Lissy was 
born, and...well, Chakotay's going to move out as soon as 
we return to Vulcan."

"Are you getting a divorce?"

The question, put forth so bluntly, caused me to 
involuntarily shudder.  "Yes."  At the stricken expression 
on her face, I hastily added,  "We're just too different.  
It would've happened sooner or later."

"Tom and I are different -- very different -- and I can 
remember quite a few people on Voyager who said we'd never 
last a day.  Then they said we'd never last a month.  Then 
it was a year, and then they said we'd live to rue the day 
we married."  She shrugged, smiling.  "Look at us now."

"But Tom loves you."  The words tumbled out of my mouth 
before I could catch them.  My voice was low, almost 
inaudible, so I hoped she hadn't heard.  

I'd forgotten that her hearing was far superior to mine, 
due to her Klingon genes, because she had evidently heard 
every word I said.  She laughed in my face, rolled her 
eyes, and said,  "And Chakotay doesn't love you?  Oh, 
please.  I took one look at him when he came in the door 
and it was obvious that he's head over heels."  

For an instant, I wondered if it could be true, but I shook 
the notion off just as quickly as it occurred.  B'Elanna 
had seen what she wanted to see, and nothing more.  "No, 
he's not."

"How can you be so sure?"  Klingon fury replaced the 
residual laughter in her dark eyes.  "He hasn't said that 
to you, has he?  Why, that -- "

"No!  No, B'Elanna, he hasn't."  It wasn't exactly a lie.  
Chakotay had never outright said he didn't love me, even 
though both he and I knew it was true.  

I could see, though, that I had dug myself too far into 
this hole of half-truths to get back out.  I decided to 
tell B'Elanna the whole story.  After all, I could trust 
her not to let it go any farther then this room, and also 
not to let on to Chakotay that she knew about our true 
circumstances.

When I finished, she was staring at me as if I'd told her I 
planned to paint myself blue and move to the Bolian 
homeworld.   

"This whole time your marriage was nothing but a charade?"  
she asked, struggling to comprehend what I'd just told her.

"That's right."

"But...but..."  She shook her head, as if denying the truth 
would somehow help it to become false.  "He loves you!  I 
*know* he does."

"You're only seeing what you want to see, B'Elanna.  
Believe me, he doesn't."  It was almost funny, really, the 
way she was taking it so hard.

Suddenly, her head snapped up and her eyes bore into mine.  
"But you love him, don't you?"  Before I could answer, she 
added, "Don't lie to me."

Taken aback by the stern tone of her voice, I merely 
nodded.  "How did you know?"

"Because you look at him the same way he looks at you." 

"B'Elanna -- "  I hesitated, trying to phrase my next words 
delicately.  "If he does love me, then why didn't he object 
when I said we should separate?"

"Probably for the same reason you brought it up.  Kathryn, 
don't you see?  You both think you know what the other is 
thinking, and it's blinding you to the truth."

"No, you're wrong,"  I insisted.  "B'Elanna, you have to 
promise me that you won't breathe a word of this to 
anybody, not even Tom -- and especially not Chakotay."

"Kathryn, if you'd just ask him -- "

"Promise me."

"But -- "

"Promise me!"

She shook her head helplessly.  "Fine.  I promise,"  she 
said reluctantly.  "I still think you're making a big 
mistake."


*     *     *


*I still think you're making a big mistake.*  B'Elanna's 
words echoed in my mind as I stood in the doorway of 
Chakotay's bedroom, only two days after we'd returned from 
Earth, watching with sorrowful eyes as he packed his bags.

Neither of us spoke a word until the room was bare.  "I'll 
help you carry your things to the shuttle,"  I offered.

He nodded, barely sparing a glance as he brushed past me, 
bag in hand.  I picked up the other and followed him 
outside.

When all of his things were in the shuttle, we faced each 
other.  "Well..."  Chakotay said slowly.  "I guess this is 
good-bye."

"Not really,"  I said, forcing a smile.  "We'll still see 
each other at the Embassy."

"Yes, I suppose so."  He shifted uncomfortably, balancing 
his weight on his right foot, then his left.  "Well, then, 
I'll see you around."

I nodded, my face frozen in a smile.  I didn't want to 
speak again for fear my voice would crack.  He gave me a 
brisk nod, then climbed into the shuttle.

I shielded my eyes against the harsh glare of the Vulcan 
sunlight and watched as the shuttle flew away, taking 
Chakotay out of my life...permanently.  

When the shuttle had disappeared into the horizon, I went 
back into the house.  I meant to go into the office and do 
some paperwork, but my legs took me to what had been 
Chakotay's room instead.

The bed was barren of his colorful Native American 
blankets, the walls stripped of his tribe symbols.  The 
entire room felt desolate...and so did my heart.


*     *     * 


"The outbreaks have gotten out of control.  The Federation 
Council is quarantining the entire planet."  Admiral's 
Paris' face deepened into a scowl.  "You should have left 
when I advised you to, Kathryn."

"I couldn't leave, Admiral.  Not until I knew that my staff 
had left the Embassy safely."

"Tom and B'Elanna won't be happy about this.  They're quite 
concerned about you."

"Tell them I'm fine, and send my love to Lissy."

At the mention of his new granddaughter, the admiral 
brightened.  "I certainly will.  Did you know that she 
smiled for the first time yesterday?"

I smiled at the enthusiasm in his voice.  "That's 
wonderful."

"B'Elanna called the house just to tell Elisabeth and I all 
about it.  It seems that Chakotay brought her a new toy, a 
rattle or some such, and the moment she saw it, she broke 
out into an ear-to-ear grin." 

"Does Chakotay visit often?"  I inquired, keeping my voice 
neutral. Chakotay had applied and been approved for a 
transfer to Starfleet Headquarters three months ago, only 
two weeks after he'd moved out.  I'd been aching for news 
of him but too proud to ask anyone directly.  I lived for 
the little tidbits I got from casual conversations with 
friends at Headquarters, which wasn't often.  Everyone 
there knew that our divorce would be final in just two 
months, and they were terrified to mention his name to me 
for fear I'd become angry.  I sighed inwardly.  If only 
they knew the truth.

"Oh, he drops in a few times a week.  Occasionally he baby-
sits Lissy whenever Tom and B'Elanna need him to."  The 
admiral paused for a moment, averting my eyes.  "He misses 
you."

I nearly choked on my coffee.  "He...he told you that?"

"Well, no, he hasn't said it to me directly, but I 
recognize the symptoms.  He never smiles except when he's 
playing with Lissy, he doesn't have a social life to speak 
of, and he's working himself to death.  B'Elanna thinks he 
misses you, too."

My spine stiffened, and I had to struggle to keep my voice 
calm.  What had she told him?  "You've discussed this with 
her?"

"Not in depth, no.  She said Chakotay didn't seem like 
himself, I said he probably missed you, and she agreed.  
That's all, I promise."

"Oh."  I sagged back in my chair.  "He's probably just 
trying to adjust back to life as a bachelor."

"I don't think so.  I -- "

"Admiral, can we *please* change the subject?"  I was in no 
mood to have this argument again.  Once with B'Elanna had 
been more than enough.

"All right,"  he said quietly.  "I'm sorry." His eyes 
critically inspected my face through the console screen.  
"Are you feeling all right?"

*Other then the fact that since Chakotay left I've barely 
eaten more than one meal a day and I can't sleep to save my 
soul?*  I thought, but said aloud, "I'm fine.  Just a 
little tired.  I've been pulling a few all-nighters."

"Perhaps you should be scanned for the virus."

I knew what I must look like to him -- hollow eyes, pale 
skin, probably ten pounds lighter then I was the last time 
he saw me -- but I also knew that it was my heart that was 
sick, not my body.  "Everyone who hasn't already been 
evacuated from Vulcan is scanned daily, Admiral.  If I was 
infected, I'd know.  I was checked this morning, and I'll 
be checked tomorrow as well."

His forehead creased.  "I'm worried about you.  Until they 
find a cure or a vaccine, you're in grave danger."

"I've stayed away from all infected areas, and I'll 
continue to do so until the danger is past."

"The virus is airborne.  Merely staying away from the 
infected areas won't shield you completely, and if I know 
you, you aren't about to lock yourself in a sterile 
bubble."  

"I've no doubt that Starfleet Medical will make some 
progress with a cure soon.  I'm telling you, there's no 
need to worry."

"I'll worry all I want to.  I still outrank you, young 
lady."  He grinned, an older version of the famous Tom 
Paris grin that I knew so well, and I smiled back.  "Take 
care of yourself, Captain.  That's an order."

"Aye, aye, Admiral.  Janeway out."


*     *     *


Water...I needed water.  My throat and mouth were dry as 
the desert sands of Vulcan.  The replicator was just down 
the hall, but I couldn't move from my bed.    

I had never felt this much pain.  Short, stabbing bursts 
of 
agony exploded all over my body if I so much as twitched my 
eyelids.  

"Commander T'Sak to Captain Janeway."

T'Sak..oh, God, from the Embassy.  I was late for work.  
Why hadn't Chakotay awakened me?  He knew I was supposed to 
be at work by 0800.  Where was he?

Oh...he didn't live here anymore.  I'd driven him away.  He 
didn't love me.  Reality was almost more torture then my 
physical pain.

"Commander T'Sak to Captain Janeway.  Please respond."

Why was it always so hot on this damned planet?  Maybe 
Tuvok was comfortable in this environment, but Chakotay and 
I weren't.  We'd set the house controls to a much cooler 
temperature.  Why weren't the environmental controls 
working?  That's all I needed...a computer failure on top 
of everything else.  

"Commander T'Sak to Captain Janeway.  Captain, if you can 
hear me, we are going to beam you to the infirmary.  Please 
stand by."

The infirmary?  

What was it the report from Starfleet Medical had said?  
The symptoms of the highly contagious Keytar virus...severe 
bodily pain, extreme thirst, high fever and delirium.  
Admiral Paris had been right.  I was infected.


*     *     *


Time became a blur...I didn't know one day from the next.  
Images floated before my eyes, merging together into 
dizzying colors and shapes.  I could hear soft, muted 
voices, but only fragmented sentences.

"...dangerously high fever...delirious..."

Nothing made sense, not even my own thoughts.  I knew, 
somehow, that something wasn't right, but I couldn't figure 
out what.  

Sometimes I was burning hot, sometimes I was freezing cold.  
Always I was craved water, but no matter how many times I 
pleaded, my thirst was never quenched.  

Searing pain ripped through my body.  My throat felt raw, 
and a strange sound repeatedly echoed in my ears.  It was a 
while before I realized that the sound was my own scream.

I'd never felt this miserable in my life, and for once, I 
wasn't afraid to admit it.  What was it Chakotay had said 
to me once when I was actually feeling unhappy but had told 
him that I was fine?  "You'd say that if you'd just had 
your legs torn off by a Traechan beast."   He'd known, and 
he'd tried to help me.  

Chakotay.  I missed him so much.  Why had I let him leave?  
Why hadn't I broken down and confessed how I felt?  I was a 
coward.  I deserved to wallow in this misery.  

I needed him.  I wanted to see him, to hear his voice, if 
only for an instant.  The sight of his smile had always 
made me feel better in the past.  I needed him now.

The voices were back, hovering above me.  I tried to 
understand what they were saying, but I could only catch a 
few words.

"...send...keeps calling...calm her somewhat..."

Fuzzy images began to drift before my eyes...faces, 
mostly.  Some were pale and pointy-eared...one had skin dark as 
chocolate -- *Tuvok,* a voice whispered from a mysterious 
recess of my mind.  Finally, I saw another face...only 
*that* face couldn't be real.  Chakotay wasn't here, not 
even if I could feel the cool touch of his hand against my 
flaming cheek.  Chakotay was on Earth.  I had driven him 
away, forever, and this unending suffering was my 
punishment.

If I could do it all over again, I wouldn't propose to him.  
I wouldn't suggest that goddamn marriage of convenience.  I 
wouldn't be a coward.  Instead, I'd come right out and say 
it -- "Chakotay, I love you."  Whether he reciprocated or 
not, I'd be no worse off then I was now.     

It was too late...Chakotay was gone, and he didn't love me.  
If he had, he would have said something -- he would have 
stayed with me!  He hadn't, though, and there was nothing 
that could be done about it.  I was lost in a dim, ghostly 
world of pain and anguish.  Until I escaped -- *if* I 
escaped -- I was helpless.  


*     *     *


The room was unfamiliar.  Small but not overly confining, 
the walls and ceiling a neutral beige, bright sunlight 
streaming in from the windows on the wall to my right.  

It was a startling change from the constant haze I'd been 
immersed in for the past -- days?  Weeks?  I had no idea 
how much time had passed.  The time from the morning I'd 
awakened feeling like hell until now was nothing but a 
vague blur of muted sounds and disjointed images.

The stifling fog that had surrounded me for so long had 
lifted, and at last I felt as if I could think clearly.  
Thinking, however, was apparently all I was capable of.  
When I tried to sit up, my muscles refused to obey my 
brain's command.  I couldn't even lift my hand.

I did manage, though with great effort, to turn my head 
away from the sunlit window.  My vision was blurry at 
first, but my eyes quickly focused on a man sitting by my 
side.

There, next to my bed, seated in a chair and staring 
directly at me, was Chakotay. 

The pounding of my heart was deafening in my ears as I met 
his steady gaze.  I tried several times to say something, 
but my voice steadfastly refused to function.  Finally, I 
managed to speak, though my voice was nothing but a 
pitiful, pathetic whisper.  "Chakotay?"

His eyes never left mine as he gently reached over and 
caressed my face with his hand.  "I'm here,"  he said in a 
warm, tender tone I'd never heard him use before. 

Somehow the attempt to produce the miserable little squeak 
that passed for my voice had drained all the strength from 
me.  I struggled valiantly to keep my eyes open.  There was 
so much I needed to say to him, but I was too tired...

Chakotay noticed my effort to stay awake.  "It's all right.  
Sleep, Kathryn.  We'll talk later, when you're stronger."

Gratefully, I closed my eyes.  Just before I drifted off to 
sleep, I thought I felt his lips brush against my forehead.  
I smiled, and slept.

I drifted in and out of consciousness, but each time I 
opened my eyes, he was there.  My slumber was deep and 
peaceful, for even in my sleep I knew he was with me.

When I again opened my eyes, this time wide awake, I could 
tell that the room was darker. Sunlight was no longer 
streaming through the windows; I could see Vulcan's moon, 
T'Khut, beginning to rise.  How long had I slept?  

My long rest must have done some good, for I no longer felt 
paralyzed.  I could move, albeit weakly, and stretch my 
taut limbs.  I did so with great relief.  I felt like I 
hadn't moved in years.

"Good evening, sleepyhead."  I turned my head and saw 
Chakotay grinning at me.  Behind him was something I hadn't 
noticed before; a vase of yellow roses, my favorite flower.  
Had he put them there?

He followed my gaze to the flowers.  "Those are a get-well 
present from Tom, B'Elanna, and Lissy."

"That's sweet of them,"  I said, and was pleased to 
discover that my voice sounded a thousand times better.  It 
wasn't quite back to normal, but I could at least be heard.  
"They're beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you."

Involuntarily, my jaw dropped.  I quickly shut my mouth, 
but not before I felt blood rushing to my cheeks, sending a 
hot blush across my face and neck.  

Slowly, almost shyly, I glanced at him.  He was watching me 
intently, gauging my reaction to his statement.  When my 
gaze met his, he leaned forward in his chair, then reached 
out and grasped my hands.  "Kathryn, we need to talk."

"A-about what?"  I asked, my voice trembling, half in 
anticipation, half in fear.  Was Chakotay going to say what 
I thought -- what I hoped -- he was going to? 

"About *us*."  His fingers tightened around mine.  He 
looked down at the floor for a few moments, then back up at 
me.  "You know, you should have left Vulcan when Admiral 
Paris told you to,"  he said suddenly.  "Why didn't you?"

I blinked in surprise, unsure of why he was changing the 
subject, but answered his question anyway.  "I needed to be 
sure my staff was evacuated safely before I could leave."

"You were very lucky.  You were only given a twenty-five 
percent chance of surviving."

I smiled.  "Well, I've always been pretty good at beating 
the odds."

"It's not funny, Kathryn.  You almost died."  

Chakotay wasn't quite frowning, but his expression was 
sober.  My smile faded almost instantly.   "I -- I'm 
sorry,"  I faltered, unsure of what to say.

He gazed at me levelly and leaned forward, bringing his 
face closer to mine.  "I was frightened out of my mind...I 
was so afraid that you'd die before I could tell you."

"Tell me what?"  I whispered, every cell in my body 
quivering anxiously.

He leaned closer still, bringing his face mere centimeters 
from mine.  "Tell you what I thought about this farce of a 
marriage."  Before my mind could fully register what he was 
saying, his lips were on mine.

All of the yearning, all of the suppressed desire, all of 
the restrained passion I'd possessed during the months of 
our unconsummated marriage unleashed itself like lava from 
a volcano.  I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed 
him with all of the love I had in me.  

The intensity of my response seemed to surprise Chakotay.  
He hesitated for a brief instant, but then enfolded me in 
his arms and pulled me closer, one hand moving to support 
the back of my neck as his kiss became more forceful.

When we finally separated, both of us were gasping for 
breath.  I'd never experienced a kiss like that.  Mere 
words couldn't even come close to describing the power, the 
intensity, or the sheer *emotion* of it.  

Suddenly, it hit me -- I'd wasted over six years because of 
my meaningless posturing and self-denial.  Six long years 
that could have been better spent -- *much* better spent -- 
but I'd been too much of a coward to admit how I felt.  My 
God, what had I been thinking?  

"It was my fault, too."  Chakotay's voice abruptly broke 
the silence.  "I should've said something about how I felt 
long ago, but I was afraid.  I didn't want to lose your 
friendship if your feelings weren't the same."

He could read my mind.  Now, why didn't that seem strange?  
"I felt the same way,"  I admitted.  "After we fought -- 
the night Lissy was born -- I thought it meant you wanted 
to be free of me."

"I guess we're more alike than we realized," he said, 
smiling.  "I thought *you* wanted to be free of *me*."

"Was that why you wouldn't even look at me after you came 
back that night?"  I couldn't help asking.  That small 
nuance had caused me many sleepless nights, and I just had 
to know his reason.   

Oddly enough, his face reddened and he looked away.  "No, 
that wasn't it."

"Then what was it?"  I persisted.

He cleared his throat.  "It was, um, your nightgown."

My eyes widened.  "My what?"

"The nightgown you were wearing.  That pink satin one.  You 
were so beautiful...I was afraid that if I looked at you I 
wouldn't be able to control myself."

Despite myself, I started laughing.  He hadn't looked at me 
because of my nightgown!  Of all things, my nightgown!  It 
was too ludicrous.  

Suddenly, I wasn't laughing anymore.  I was coughing, so 
violently that I had to grip the sides of the bed to keep 
myself from falling off.  

The laughter in Chakotay's eyes instantly gave way to 
concern.  He quickly crossed to the replicator and ordered 
a glass of water, then helped me sip from it.  Gradually, 
my hacking stopped, and I sank back onto my pillows with 
relief.  

"Sorry,"  Chakotay said guiltily, setting the glass of 
water on a table by my bedside.  "I guess I shouldn't have 
made you laugh."

"Nonsense,"  I told him, wheezing slightly.  "It wasn't 
your fault.  I'm fine now."

"Yes, you are *now*, but you scared the hell out of a lot 
of people -- myself, your mother and Phoebe, Admiral Paris, 
not to mention Tom and B'Elanna.  When I heard you hadn't 
been evacuated -- "

"I told you -- "

"Yes, I know.  You had to make sure your staff had left 
safely."  He shook his head ruefully.  "I don't know why I 
was even surprised when I heard you were still on Vulcan."

"I didn't think I'd get infected."  A sudden, terrified 
thought leaped into my head.  "Oh, God, Chakotay -- I'm not 
still contagious, am I?  Should you be here?  If you -- "

"Kathryn, it's all right,"  Chakotay said, squeezing my 
hand.  "Starfleet Medical created a vaccine.  I won't get 
sick."

A vaccine.  Thank heaven.  "You had me worried for a second 
there,"  I said with a half-smile.

"Oh, like you didn't have me worried?"  he retorted.

"I thought we already discussed this."

"We did."  He hesitated for a moment, gently tracing the 
lines of my palm with his finger.  "I don't think you 
realize just how lucky you are to be alive.  Over ten 
thousand people have died, and there are still over twenty 
thousand who are dangerously ill."

He was right.  I hadn't realized the extent of the 
outbreak.  "And -- there isn't a cure?"

"Not yet.  Starfleet Medical is getting close, though."

Perhaps I was just overemotional, but I couldn't keep tears 
from swimming in my eyes.  "Ten thousand..."  I whispered, 
staring out the window.  It was night, and the stars were 
sparking in the heavens.  It didn't seem possible that such 
havoc could have happened under such a peaceful sky.

He gathered me into his arms.  "Shhh.  I'm sorry.  I 
shouldn't have told you."

I swallowed, just barely keeping the tears back.  "I 
would've found out sooner or later."

He kissed the top of my head.  "You're alive, and that's 
all that matters to me.  When Dr. S'Rin contacted me, I 
couldn't get here soon enough."

"Dr. S'Rin?"

"The chief physician of the infirmary.  He was the one who 
told me about the vaccine.  He said that your fever was 
dangerously high...that you were delirious...and all you 
did was repeat my name over and over.  He asked me to come 
immediately because your condition was worsening and he 
thought I might be a calming influence on you."  

He rested his cheek on my hair, absently twining his 
fingers around a few errant strands.  "Tuvok came with me, 
and the minute we got here, they brought us in to see 
you...you were tossing and turning, and all you kept saying 
was, 'Chakotay, where are you?  Chakotay?'  I remember that 
I touched your face...you were practically scorching.  I 
said, 'Kathryn, I'm here, it's all right,'  and you calmed 
down almost immediately.  It was then I knew..."

"...knew how I felt about you?"  I finished softly, and he 
nodded.

"The next day the doctors said you'd improved, and you kept 
improving until they finally said you were out of danger.  
That was a few days ago."

"How long has it been since I was infected?"

"Five weeks."

"Five weeks,"  I repeated incredulously.  "It didn't seem 
like that long...but everything was so hazy..."  

"Dr. S'Rin says you still have a while yet to recover, but 
you're going to be just fine."

"How long is 'a while'?"

"He wants you to stay in the infirmary for another week, 
and then you can go home, provided you have an additional 
week of bed rest."

"The hell I -- "

"Don't even try to argue, Kathryn,"  Chakotay said sternly.  
"You're going to do as he says, even if I have to stay with 
you every minute of the day to make sure you follow his 
orders."  

At first I was startled by the sharpness of his tone -- I 
wasn't accustomed to him speaking to me as though he was my 
commanding officer -- but then I relaxed and chuckled, 
tilting my head to look up at him.  "Actually, that doesn't 
sound too bad."

He laughed.  "You're right.  And, you know, I was 
thinking,"  he continued, his tone casual,  "that in a few 
weeks, after you've completely recovered, we should take a 
belated honeymoon."

The implication of his words was impossible to miss.  "I 
guess this means the divorce is off,"  I said, feeling a 
delicious shiver as his fingers gently traced my spine 
through the thin material of my hospital gown.

"You're damn right.  It was a stupid idea in the first 
place."

"The marriage or the divorce?"  I asked, laughing softly.

"Both.  The day you proposed, I should've just done this."  
He cradled my face in his hands and, once again, his lips 
claimed mine.


*    *    *


I left the infirmary a week later, but I received strict 
instructions from Dr. S'Rin to have complete bed rest for 
another week, and Chakotay saw to it that I followed those 
instructions to the letter.  

After I was finally allowed out of bed, Chakotay insisted I 
spend yet another week recuperating, but at the end of that 
week he surprised me with plans for our belated honeymoon.  
He'd arranged for us to stay for three weeks at a cabin in 
the Colorado Rockies -- an incredibly beautiful, secluded, 
romantic place.  I couldn't have asked for a more perfect 
honeymoon.  

After our three heavenly weeks were over, I had to return 
to Vulcan to tie up some loose ends as well as move my 
belongings from my house to Chakotay's apartment. I'd 
resigned from my job at the Embassy, and Admiral Paris had 
found me a job at Headquarters. 

Once that was done, Chakotay and I went to Indiana and paid 
my mother a much overdue visit.  We returned to San 
Francisco as soon as we could, however, for we were both 
eager to visit three special people.

Once again, I held my goddaughter at Tom and B'Elanna's 
home on Earth, but there were a few notable differences 
from my last visit nearly seven months ago.  Lissy was a 
great deal older, for one, and instead of lying placidly in 
my arms she sat on my lap and cooed happily.  For another, 
I had a heart filled with joy rather than sorrow, and, best 
of all, I could look B'Elanna in the eye without guilt or 
regret.

"It's all right, B'Elanna.  You can say it,"  I said, once 
Tom and Chakotay had gone to look at a new shuttle Tom had 
designed, leaving B'Elanna, Lissy, and I alone in the 
house.

"Say what?"  she asked.

"'I told you so.'"  I glanced down at Lissy, who was 
noisily shaking a rattle -- the one Chakotay had given her, 
in fact -- and looked up to find B'Elanna smiling at me.

"It's tempting, but I'm won't say that I was right and you 
were wrong,"  she said, raising her voice slightly to be 
heard over Lissy's racket.  "God knows you went through 
enough during your illness."

"Thank God the outbreak has been stopped."  Starfleet 
Medical had succeeded in finding a cure shortly before 
Chakotay and I had left Vulcan, and all evacuees had 
returned to their homes.  The deadly virus had left almost 
eleven thousand people dead.  I, along with about twenty-
nine thousand others, had been lucky enough to survive with 
no further complications.

Lissy grew tired of her rattle and hurled it to the floor, 
where it bounced against the dining room wall and rolled 
under the table.  I chuckled.  "I can see you inherited a 
few of your mother's characteristics, little one."

B'Elanna rolled her eyes.  "Oh, very funny,"  she said, 
handing Lissy a teething ring to chew on.  "Speaking of the 
virus, though, how are you feeling?"

"Oh, I'm fine,"  I said, cuddling Lissy a bit closer.  
"Better then fine.  Wonderful, in fact."

"You look it."  She gazed at me with an almost maternal 
air, which struck me as slightly comical considering that 
she was many years my junior.  "Your eyes are shining like 
stars."

I smiled.  "I'm very happy."

She nodded.  "So is Chakotay,"  she said affectionately.  
"I almost didn't recognize him when the two of you arrived 
this morning.  He's walking on air."

"B'Elanna -- "  My right arm was holding Lissy securely on 
my lap, but I reached out to her with my left and took her 
hand.  "I want to thank you."

"For what?"

"For being there when I needed a friend.  I appreciate it, 
even if I didn't believe what you said."

She allowed herself a smug grin.  "Well, you always have 
been stubborn as a Klingon."

"Look who's talking,"  I retorted, and the two of us 
laughed together.  Even Lissy joined in with an adorable 
giggle.  

"What are you laughing about?"  I said to her, tickling the 
bottoms of her feet.  She kicked delightedly and looked up 
at me, her face rosy and dimpled.  "Awbed-wah,"  she 
babbled.

"I think that means 'nothing,'"  B'Elanna said, smiling 
fondly.   

I dropped a kiss on my goddaughter's soft brown curls.  
"She's such a darling."  

B'Elanna was quiet for a few moments.  "Kathryn, I don't 
mean to pry, but...ever since you arrived this morning, 
you've reminded me of someone."

"Really?"  I asked vaguely.  "Who?"

"You remind me of myself...when I found out I was pregnant 
with Lissy.  Are you...I mean..."

I lifted my eyes to hers, barely able to contain my 
happiness over the news I'd found out only yesterday.  A 
sudden lump in my throat prevented me from speaking the 
words, but they were unnecessary.

"My God.  You *are* pregnant,"  B'Elanna said after one 
glimpse of my glowing face.

I nodded, my cheeks flushing pink.  

"How far along are you?"

"A few weeks."  My blush deepened.  "I think -- I think it 
happened on our, ah, wedding night."

She reached over and squeezed my hand, staring at me in 
frank delight.  "That's wonderful,"  she said softly.  
"Does Chakotay know?"

I shook my head.  "Not yet.  I just found out yesterday."

"How?"

"My mother.  She could tell, somehow, and she insisted that 
I scan myself with a tricorder to see if I was pregnant.  I 
did, and...I am.  I had a doctor confirm it today.  I'm 
just waiting for the right opportunity to tell Chakotay."

Her eyes glanced behind me.  "I think you just did."

I twisted in my chair, nearly dropping Lissy in the 
process.  To my surprise, Chakotay was standing in the 
doorway, an expression of pure astonishment on his face.  
Obviously, he'd returned early from Headquarters and had 
overheard the last part of our conversation.

I barely noticed when B'Elanna lifted Lissy from my arms 
and silently slipped out of the dining room.  I had eyes 
only for my husband.  

He took a tentative step towards me.  I wanted to rise and 
go to him, but I felt glued to my chair.  

"Is -- it -- true?"  Chakotay said in a voice so oddly 
stilted that it didn't seem like his own.  His eyes moved, 
disbelieving, to my flat abdomen.  They lingered there for 
a few moments, then returned to my face.  "Are you -- "

"Pregnant?"  I finished, my hands gripping the back of my 
chair.  "Yes.  Yes, I am."

He took another step towards me.  "You're -- you're sure?"

"I'm sure.  Six weeks.  I went to the doctor this morning."  
Unbeknownst to him, I'd risen early that morning and walked 
to Starfleet Medical -- luckily only a short distance from 
our apartment -- while he slept.  When I'd returned, nearly 
beside myself with joy, he'd still been asleep.  

"Six weeks?"  A flash of comprehension dawned in his eyes.  
"But that means -- "

"Yes.  Our wedding night." 

He stared at me, and then, unexpectedly, a whoop of 
laughter escaped his lips.  He was by my side with two 
strides of his long legs, lifting me in his arms and 
whirling me around until I was dizzy.

"Kathryn!"  he shouted.  "Kathryn!"

Then, abruptly, he stopped spinning.  He kissed me, firmly 
and soundly, cradling me in his arms.

"I love you,"  I murmured against his lips.  Even if I 
lived to be two hundred, I would never tire of saying that 
to him, or hearing him say it to me.  

"I love you too,"  he said when the kiss ended.  "Have I 
told you how much I love you?"

"I guess this means you're glad,"  I said breathlessly.

"Glad?  Darling, I'm -- I'm -- "  He spun me around again, 
his grin threatening to split his face in two.  "I'm going 
to be a father!"

His delight was infectious.  "And I'm going to be a 
mother!"  I yelled joyfully.

Dizzy from whirling so much, he sank into the chair I'd 
vacated when he picked me up.  He held me firmly in his 
lap, much like I'd held Lissy just a few minutes ago.  
"You,"  he said, slightly out of breath,  "are incredible."

"Well, I didn't do it on my own.  You helped too."  

"I know."  He grinned adorably.  "So, what do you think -- 
boy or girl?"

"I don't care."  I rested my hands on my abdomen, marveling 
at the knowledge that there was a tiny being growing inside 
of me.  "I just want a healthy baby -- *our* baby."

Chakotay smiled tenderly and kissed my forehead.  "Speaking 
of babies, where do you think we scared B'Elanna and Lissy 
off to?"

"I have no idea.  Let's go find them."  Hand in hand, we 
went looking.  

B'Elanna and Lissy were in the backyard, along with Tom, 
who'd returned from Headquarters.  B'Elanna was sitting on 
the grass, holding Lissy on her lap, and Tom and Lissy 
playing patty-cake.  All three of them were laughing 
merrily.

Chakotay's sturdy arms encircled my waist, and I leaned my 
head against his broad chest.  We stood and quietly watched 
the three of them for a few moments, and I wondered what 
Chakotay was thinking the same thing I was -- that someday 
that might be us, relaxing in the comfort of our home and 
playing with our baby like the perfect family.  

A family.  Me, Chakotay, and our baby.  One year ago I 
never would have thought it was possible, especially not 
when Chakotay and I were married in name only.  If someone 
would have told me the day I proposed that Chakotay and I 
would end up this way, I would've sent them directly to the 
Starfleet Psychiatric Hospital.  

Luckily, Chakotay and I turned out to be the crazy ones -- 
crazy about each other.  And as I watched Tom and B'Elanna 
play with their daughter, and dreamed of the little one I 
was going to have, I knew that nothing would come between 
Chakotay and me ever again.  

We were finally a real family.


*     *     *


~finis~