I can't forget, I'm drowning in these memories
When; Morning and then evening
Rating; PG-13 for now
Characters; Chakotay and Kathryn Janeway
Summary; Chakotay has a very unpleasant morning surprise and then takes it upon himself to make Kathryn's life just a little bit better here.
Log;
Chakotay woke as he had every morning since arriving here in the City: early, but not particularly well-rested. He had a lot on his mind. Part of that was worry for Kathryn, but when wasn't he worried about Kathryn? She seemed to have taken it as a personal challenge to get him to stand on edge more often, just as he had taken it as a personal challenge to get her to relax for even an hour out of a day. He'd gotten his wish during Ginny's party. Now it seemed she would be getting the answer to her challenge.
At first, everything was normal. He rose, dressed, and was preparing to get ready for the day in the bathroom when he first looked into a mirror and noticed that something was off. For a moment, he couldn't place what it was. But then he turned his head and ice settled into his stomach, like a fist ready to pull the organ right out of his body.
His tattoo was gone. The one defining feature, and arguably the most important one, about him... suddenly wasn't there.
He blinked. And then he moved to find another mirror, to deny this could have happened. But every mirror he ran to showed the same thing. His face was clear of any marks. The mark of his tribe was gone and with it Chakotay felt as though he had lost his identity. Leaning on the kitchen table, he gripped its edge with strong fingers. This couldn't have happened. How could his tattoo be gone? It was so important to him. What was he to do without that connection to his father, to his past? And with his struggle to relax enough to contact his spirit guide, he didn't even have that to go to.
So he did the next best thing and started shadowboxing in the small living quarters. Maybe that would calm him down enough to focus on the day.
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Later that night, he decided since he really owed Kathryn for agreeing to attend Ginny's party and putting up with him that morning, he would let her collect on that debt. The least he could do was make her dinner. So, he got to work preparing her favorite dish. With a little luck, she would be busy enough to come back after he'd finished, but he wouldn't count on his luck lasting that long. With a small smile, he spared a glance at the door, finally feeling a little more back to normal. Or as normal as life got here in the City.
Rating; PG-13 for now
Characters; Chakotay and Kathryn Janeway
Summary; Chakotay has a very unpleasant morning surprise and then takes it upon himself to make Kathryn's life just a little bit better here.
Log;
Chakotay woke as he had every morning since arriving here in the City: early, but not particularly well-rested. He had a lot on his mind. Part of that was worry for Kathryn, but when wasn't he worried about Kathryn? She seemed to have taken it as a personal challenge to get him to stand on edge more often, just as he had taken it as a personal challenge to get her to relax for even an hour out of a day. He'd gotten his wish during Ginny's party. Now it seemed she would be getting the answer to her challenge.
At first, everything was normal. He rose, dressed, and was preparing to get ready for the day in the bathroom when he first looked into a mirror and noticed that something was off. For a moment, he couldn't place what it was. But then he turned his head and ice settled into his stomach, like a fist ready to pull the organ right out of his body.
His tattoo was gone. The one defining feature, and arguably the most important one, about him... suddenly wasn't there.
He blinked. And then he moved to find another mirror, to deny this could have happened. But every mirror he ran to showed the same thing. His face was clear of any marks. The mark of his tribe was gone and with it Chakotay felt as though he had lost his identity. Leaning on the kitchen table, he gripped its edge with strong fingers. This couldn't have happened. How could his tattoo be gone? It was so important to him. What was he to do without that connection to his father, to his past? And with his struggle to relax enough to contact his spirit guide, he didn't even have that to go to.
So he did the next best thing and started shadowboxing in the small living quarters. Maybe that would calm him down enough to focus on the day.
Later that night, he decided since he really owed Kathryn for agreeing to attend Ginny's party and putting up with him that morning, he would let her collect on that debt. The least he could do was make her dinner. So, he got to work preparing her favorite dish. With a little luck, she would be busy enough to come back after he'd finished, but he wouldn't count on his luck lasting that long. With a small smile, he spared a glance at the door, finally feeling a little more back to normal. Or as normal as life got here in the City.
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Those duties were part of her daily routine, as second nature to her as brushing her teeth in the morning was, and a month in to being a resident of this city, being without those responsibilities was quickly shifting from welcomed reprieve to unwanted annoyance. While it was true that there was a part of her that was starting to enjoy being just Kathryn again, she missed being Captain Janeway and felt naked without her pips and protocols.
Not nearly as naked as Chakotay must feel now without his tattoo, as it didn't take her very long to discern what was happening. These desultory curses were giving her a newfound sense of appreciation for Q's antics and the Continuum's meddling.
Scans completed and tricorder tucked away into one of her cardigan's pockets, Kathryn made her way back to the apartment. Sure, she could've checked in on her first officer earlier, but she knew him well enough to give him the space she no doubt required to cope with the loss of something she knew meant a great deal to him. She would never fully understand that level of spiritual sentiment, and almost felt as if she were intruding when she slid the key into the lock and let herself into quarters they were presently sharing -- to the point that walking in to find him cooking of all things was more startling than it should've been.
"What are you doing?"
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Glancing up when he heard her voice, he couldn't help smiling again at the look on her face. "Do I have to have a reason to cook for you again?" he asked, turning his attention back to the food. The last time he'd done this had been back on that planet they never talked about anymore. In this instance, he thought she deserved a little home-cooked food.
"If it'll make you feel any better... it doesn't have any trace of leola root."
At least he was feeling better than he had been that morning. Now he could concentrate without wondering if B'Elanna had transferred her temper to him the last time he'd seen her.
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The quip about the crew's blatant distaste for the Delta Quadrant plant ignored in favor of confusion, of worry. Shouldn't he be a little more upset by this? He'd covered up his tattoo for more than a few away missions, so seeing him without it wasn't too out of the ordinary, but it was still cause for concern. She had expected to find him meditating, not cooking.
Food prepared in this manner, and not by Neelix, were usually preludes to battle or done in celebration of some great victory or accomplishment.
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Still, the way she's approaching makes his smile falter just a little bit. Maybe he should do this more often, shove something nice on her every so often. Then she might not consider a little act of kindness a threat to her well-being.
"Would you believe me if I said I thought you could use it?" he asked softly, sighing as he worked. "Maybe I wanted to thank you... for agreeing to go to Ginny's party, for being a constant presence here." He paused long enough to begin transferring the food to serving dishes. "And definitely to apologize for not having a bathtub here."
It was taking his mind off what he'd lost in the month he'd been a resident of this City and spirits knew he needed that. She was smart enough and knew him well enough to guess at that, too.
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Perhaps one day she'd shed all these learned tendencies, would stop approaching moments of normalcy like a tactician and do so as a person. Forcing her to act like a person instead of a product of Starfleet was the only good thing to come out of this accursed 'heads down, pips up' policy, even if she was fighting tooth and nail in her own way to cling to any vestiges of her power and authority that she could get her hands on.
Yet, she gave Jim Kirk a phaser and promised him a combadge and tricorder. Of course, that was likely due to the comfortable camaraderie she found in the younger captain's presence, somehow surpassing her subconscious desire to cling to all things future and Federation.
"There's no need to thank me," she said frankly. "I had fun, and being here is out of my control."
And if not for the fact that she knew that underneath that gruff exterior, he was understandably and deeply upset for a myriad of reasons, she would've retreated at that bathtub apology. That was a firm line that had been etched into the bulkheads during the second year of their journey, one that was toed, yet never crossed, and he was stepping dangerously close to with a remark like that. Closer than she had when she'd danced with him at Ginny's birthday party.
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Or did she? He had never quite made up his mind about her feelings towards him, settling somewhere along the line on "complicated." It seemed to say everything there was to say.
"Being in the City might be." But being near me went unspoken for the moment. "If you're hungry, it's all ready to be eaten. If not... it'll save." He would be disappointed, but it was her choice.
It was always her choice. Even when he felt a piece of him die every day the space between them grew, it was still her choice. He couldn't force that from her and he knew the more someone pushed her about something, the more she would push back in the opposite direction. And the last thing he wanted was to scare her off.
A part of him desperately wanted to admit what was going on, the turmoil waking up to that surprise had tossed him into, but he was finding it more and more difficult to be open about personal things like this with a person who refused to do him the same courtesy. He was her First Officer, after all, and it seemed that was all she would ever see him as. Instead of allowing someone to help her through the events of the last few months -- the last few years, even -- Kathryn had walled herself away. With B'Elanna firmly in the Delta Quadrant, Chakotay found himself left with Kathryn, a woman he cared for very deeply and who, with each day that passed, found new and exciting ways to keep him firmly on the other side of a barrier that grew exponentially every time he turned around. Maybe the dance had weakened that barrier just a little, but it would never make up for the strength it endured.
And so, with all that in mind, he offered Kathryn a smile, one that he hoped would dispel her questions about him, even as he knew that would only delay the inevitable.
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Relenting for the second time this week (that had to be a new record), Kathryn moved to the table and sat down, waiting it absolute silence. She was quiet, but at least she was still there. Back on Voyager, she would've already been out the door.
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Which, he realized, was difficult with how he was acting, but then it had been difficult the first time around as well.
Taking his own seat, he offered her first choice of dishes, contemplating what had been going on lately. A thousand thoughts flitted through his head and so, in the effort of not losing contact and letting this be a silent meal, he spoke the first one that stuck.
"This is the first time since I got it that I haven't had it." His tattoo, he meant. "I don't understand how something that's such a distinct part of me could be taken and given to someone else."
An almost clinical observation of what was going on. They could start with that and see what the rest of the conversation held, couldn't they?