Disclaimer:  Paramount owns them, which puts them in the same category as abused children, but what can ya do?  I'm just borrowing them.  I promise to put them back when I'm finished.  No infringement intended.  You can't sue me anyway, I don't have anything. 

WARNING:   MAJOR SAP ALERT!!!  I mean it, I warned you.  This story is sappy enough to make syrup!  Read on at your own risk, your glucose level is your own business.

Author's Note:  This story was inspired by an amazing music video made by Andrea Lehrer, which won first place at the Women of Star Trek: Voyager Convention in May 2001.  The clips were heart wrenching, the music was soft and appropriately somber, and the lyrics were dead on perfect.  The song belongs to Bette Midler.  The clips and characters belong to Paramount.  And the video belongs to Andrea.  This story belongs to me.  And J/C belongs to all of us, because we never stopped hoping.

Andrea, this story is for you, my friend.  Your video touched my heart, and reminded me exactly why I fell so in love with J/C in the first place.  Thank you for making an already incredible day even more memorable!

My One True Friend

Dear Chakotay,

     You wanted me to tell you how I got to this point.  How I brought us to where we are.  Where to start?  I don't know what prompted me to do it. 

     No … wait.  That's a lie.

      I'm an expert at lying to myself, did you know that?  Yes, I suppose you did.  And I do know what prompted me.  It was a combination of things, I think.  The book of holoimages I found left behind in Neelix's quarters, the glow of the candlelight in the room, and the soft music I was listening to competing with the crackling sounds of the fire.  Those things all conspired against me and I found myself suddenly awash with emotion.  Before I knew it, I was clutching a faded holoimage to my chest and sobbing.  Crying with an intensity I hadn't known since the day I lost my father and fiancé beneath the alien ice caps on Tau Ceti Prime.  I hadn't cried like that since then.

     I'd tucked Neelix's book of holoimages in with my private effects when I disembarked.  Leaving Voyager was hard for me, and I remember thinking that the book full of memories would bring me comfort in the quiet hours when ghosts tend to lurk and the demons howl.  I have many of both - ghosts and demons.  And so do you.  But until that night, I hadn't actually found the courage to open the book and look inside.  I knew from glancing at the first page what it contained.  Images and memories of them – our Voyager family.  Holiday celebrations in the mess hall, activities and games on the holodeck, shore leave snap shots, and so on.  Our lives for the past decade rolled up and neatly preserved within those pages.  I hadn't looked at it because I knew that if I did, I'd have to face the fact … the fact that I missed them all terribly.  Some more so than others.  And you – I missed you more than I'd ever imagined possible, Chakotay.

     On that particular night, I found myself alone in my childhood home.  My mother had gone to tend to Phoebe, who'd just given birth to her second child.  Another girl with my mother's eyes, so I was told.  Unable to chase away my melancholia, I did what I always do when I feel downtrodden: I soaked in a hot bubble bath and sipped on a rather tasty coffee liqueur.  But it didn't provide its usual succor, much to my dismay.  Perhaps it was because you didn't build it for me.  No tub has ever compared to that one. 

     Determined to ignore whatever was pulling my heart down through my feet, I dressed in my favorite nightgown and perched myself in the living room with a thick quilt and a good book.  People often think I adore reading so much because I'm intelligent and academic minded.  You think that, too, don't you?  That's not it at all, far from it in fact.  I read for release from my heavy life – it's my favorite form of escapism.  With the simple turning of a page, I can forget all about the burdens of command, or the throbbing ache of loneliness that was my life.  Lost in the words of the author, I can be anyone but Kathryn Janeway, and for a short time, I can forget my woes.  Such was my intention that night, but it was not to be.

     After I read the same paragraph about six times with no comprehension, I sighed in frustration and closed the old-fashioned paper bound book.  I sat it on the coffee table, stroking the faded leather cover reverently as I released it.  I would try it again later.  That's the beautiful thing about books, they wait for you like an old friend.  Patient and undemanding, like you.

     I leaned my head back on the fluffy sofa pillow and tried to fall asleep, another form of escapism I'd become fond of.  But the silence was deafening, and sleep eluded me.  My eyes drifted to the closed door of my father's study.  I rose with insentience and opened the door, stepping tentatively into the room.  The scent of cedar assaulted my nose, and I suddenly felt like the little girl I once was.  Four years old and creeping into Daddy's study to wait for him to come home and quiz me on multiplication.  I knew my mother had kept it well preserved.  Even after all these years, it looked like it did when he was alive, a place for everything and everything in its place.  His reading glasses still sat on the corner of the desk, as though he would walk in any moment, ruffle my hair, and slip the glasses on until they came to rest on the edge of his nose.  Tears already forming in my eyes, I walked around the desk and stood behind it, looking wistfully at the small space where I used to hide at his feet and listen to him tapping at his console.  I closed my eyes for a moment and allowed the memories to wash over me.  I still swear I could hear his voice.  "Is that a little bird under my desk?"  I could see his strong arms open to invite me in.  "Come to Daddy, Goldenbird.  Have you been a good girl today?"

     I remember fighting the tears that threatened to fall.  Even in my solitude, I wouldn't allow myself to be human long enough to cry.  Rather self-defeating behavior, wouldn't you agree?  Yes, of course you would.  You were always the one telling me to stop running from my emotions.  I should've listened to you, Chakotay.  Maybe I could've spared us both a lot of unnecessary pain.

     When I found myself longing to crawl into my old hiding spot under Daddy's desk, I decided it was probably time to leave that room.  I took one more look around.  "I miss you, Daddy," I heard myself say.  Then I closed the door behind me, silencing the ghost of my father that lingered within those four walls.  I knew even then that I would return another time.  The demons in that room call to me often.  They speak of survivor guilt and hands that couldn't work the transporter controls fast enough to save them.  I've yet to find a way to silence them.  Perhaps I never will.

     I flopped down in the oversized lounge chair my mother is so fond of sitting in and stared at the crackling fire.  On Voyager, I'd have given just about anything for a quiet night like this one.  But here away from my ship and crew, in the company of my own thoughts, I would've welcomed a Hirogen hunting party.  In the quiet of the room, I could hear the ghosts whispering to me, taunting me.  They wanted me to think about you, to think about all I'd lost.  You'd waited for me for so long, and I pushed you away every chance I got.  I had to get my crew home.  I stranded them there, and I didn't deserve the luxury of indulging myself – no matter how badly I wanted to.  And then when we finally made it home, it was too late.  You were with her, and I was certain I had lost you.  The horrible irony of it was that I only had myself to blame.

     I couldn't stand the quiet anymore, so I decided to listen to some music.  Soft, tranquil music.  The gentle sounds wafting through the room helped to relax me a little, and I closed my eyes for a few moments to let it wash over me.  I reached over to refill my drink, and that's when I noticed Neelix's book.  It sat there on the bottom shelf of the bookcase beckoning me to pick it up.  I snatched it in my hands and then slumped back in the chair, resting the large book on my lap.  I was swallowed up as I began turning the carefully constructed pages.  My body may have been sitting in my mom's house in Indiana, but my mind and spirit were instantly back on that ship.  The images took me back to the time when all we had was each other, and every day was an adventure.  There, smiling back at me, were the faces of the people I never expected to love so completely.  Our journey was over and our mission complete.  And with each page, I grieved anew.

     On the first page were Tom and B'Elanna, dressed in Hawaiian motif and sipping a frosty beverage in Neelix's Polynesian resort program.  Tom's arm rested on B'Elanna's bare shoulders casually, but with a hint of possessiveness.  They were laughing at something, and I remembered instantly how my heart used to soar when I saw the mirth and joy in their eyes.  Those two found much more than just each other on that journey.  They found themselves.  They're living proof that some good came of our sojourn through the Delta Quadrant.

     Next I came upon a charming picture of Neelix, a very young Naomi Wildman curled up on his lap as her read to her from The Adventures of Trevis and Flotter.  Just behind his left shoulder, trying to observe without intruding on the moment, was Samantha.  She had that look in her eyes.  You remember it, that luminescence that appeared every time she looked at her little girl.  I felt a gentle tug at my heartstrings.  Little Naomi – how we all adored her.  In a way, she belonged to all of us.  I knew even then that I would probably never cuddle my own infant against my chest.  How very lucky we were to share in Naomi's first years, hmm?

     I turned the page and laughed aloud at the image of myself dressed as Arachnia, Queen of the Spider People.  I had no idea how Neelix managed to get his hands on a holoimage of me in that ridiculous costume, but I was willing to bet he paid a hefty price for it.  I distinctly remember how angry you were that you didn't get to participate, Chakotay.  But I was determined not to let you see me in that get up.  As I looked at the image of myself in it, I remembered exactly why.  I looked hilarious!  Just behind my right shoulder I could see my cohorts posturing exaggeratedly.  Captain Proton and Buster Kincaid, they'd saved my life more times that I could count.  All of you have.

     I continued my stroll down memory lane, each image evoking a different emotion.  The sweet, elfin face of Kes brought me to tears only moments before the image of Tuvok clad only in a toga had me laughing so hard I could barely breathe.  Remember the merciless string of pranks Tom played on the poor Vulcan, Chakotay?  You tried to reprimand Paris, but your amusement showed in your eyes. 

     I was lost in my private reverie, and was unprepared for the images I saw on the next page.  They were pictures of you and me.  Several small images arranged together in a collage of sorts.  There we were, sitting together at the Doctor's operetta, both looking like we'd prefer to undergo a lobotomy than listen any longer.  I didn't realize at the time just how lucky I was to be sitting there surrounded by all of them - with you at my side.

     Then we were on the holodeck.  Talent night if I remember correctly.  Two crewmen from Stellar Cartography did that impression of us, remember?  One of them put on high-heeled boots and, hands on hips, said, "Do it," every time the other spoke.  It was mostly at my expense, but it was funny.  In the picture, my hand was on your chest and I was bent over at the waist laughing.  You were holding on to my arm, probably keeping me from falling over, and you were looking down at me with that devilish grin of yours, obviously enjoying the show.  I was momentarily stricken with how natural we looked together.  Our touches were so genuine, and they occurred without forethought most of the time.  It was like I'd been touching you all my life.

     And then another image, it was from Neelix's party after the incident with the Equinox.  We were standing together greeting members of the crew as they came in.  I could see the tension in our eyes, despite the smiles we wore on our faces.  I hurt you badly then, Chakotay.  I know I did.  I could even see it in your stance in the picture.  But you stood beside me anyway.  You allowed me to stumble and make my own mistakes, the whole time having faith in me to learn from them and move on. You were my friend, even when I didn't deserve it.  I never thanked you for that.  Can you ever forgive me?

     Then I came across the image that affected me most.  It was you and I on shore leave apparently.  We were standing on a ridge covered in tall blue-green grass.  A moment frozen out of time.  We were looking at the alien sunset, in all its hues of orange and fuchsia.  We were in civilian clothing, and my long ponytail hung down my back.  At first, I couldn't recall that day or that planet.  But as I studied the image carefully, and took note of exactly what you and I were doing, it came back to me.  The photographer, whomever it was, caught our profiles as we stood facing each other.  Your right arm was on the small of my back, and in my joined hands I held a paintbrush.  Your left arm was extended toward the horizon, as if you were pointing to something.  Our eyes were locked together as if we were deep in conversation.  That's when I remembered.  It was the first shore leave we had after my brush with death and the alien that appeared to me in the form of my father.  Do you remember it, Chakotay?  We took a picnic to that hill, just the two of us.  I was trying to paint the sunset but I couldn't get it right.  You took me to the ridge and you pointed out the subtle variations in the colors, where they faded from light to dark and convoluted around each other.  And you told me the story your father used to tell you about the sun always being followed by the moon because they were separated lovers, always trying to reach each other again.  You said that they would never stop, never give up.  That no matter what, they would always be watching over each other.  You always have a legend or parable for everything.  You were trying to tell me something, weren't you?  Oh, how I took you for granted.  I am so sorry for that, Chakotay.

     That's when I began to sob.  Not just at the memory of that day, but at what I didn't realize until that moment as I looked at the image.  It's always been you, Chakotay.  You've always been there for me, making me stop in my whirlwind life and see the beauty around me.  You made me find the wonder in a sunset, or the artistry in a flower.  You added so much to my life, in your tender, gentle way.  And you taught me to see beyond my rank and duties.  You decorated my world, Chakotay, and you made my life beautiful.  How can I ever thank you for that?

And now is it too late to say,

How you made my life so different,

In your quiet way?

I can see the joy,

In simple things.

A sunlit sky,

And all the songs we used to sing.

I have wanted,

And I have prayed,

I could forgive.

And we could start again.

In the end -

You are my one true friend.

     I smiled through my tears as I carefully pulled the image from the paper.  I clutched it against my heart and cried for all I'd lost.  I knew that someday, somehow, I had to tell you.  I had to thank you for all you brought to my life, even if I'd thrown it away and you were no longer by my side.  You were my friend, Chakotay, and that kept me alive.  Because no matter how much I may have needed or wanted a lover, I needed a friend a hundred times worse.  God, how I missed you!

          I sulked my way back to the sofa and sat down, feeling morose and terribly lonely.  I pulled the quilt up to my chin, the picture still clutched in my hand.   And then the though flitted unbidden through my mind.  I wonder where Chakotay is tonight?  Is he lonely, too?  I found myself sitting before the communication terminal, punching away at the controls and preparing to send you a message.  My hands were shaking so badly, I could barely control them.  Stupid, isn't it?  Ridiculous really.  We'd known each other for so long, and you'd been my best friend for years.  We shared our fears and our hopes.  Hell, we shared our lives on that little starship.  And here I was nervous to call you!  The absurdity of it suddenly struck me, and I paused before hitting the activation sequence.  What was I going to say to you?  Tell you I missed you?  Ask you why you did it?

     I hadn't seen you since the celebration after the debriefings.  You remember, don't you, Chakotay?  You were with her.  You were with Seven.  I didn't know how to deal with it.  I felt betrayed even though I knew I had no right to feel that way.  Part of me hated you for moving on with your life.  But mostly, I hated myself for making you.  I knew I'd pushed you to do it, to find someone else.  But Seven?  She was my protégé, my charge.  I loved her like the daughter I will never have.  The image of you standing at her side, her arm locked through yours where mine used to be, was like a physical blow.  I staggered at the impact of it and recoiled.  Then I retreated to Indiana to lick my wounds in private.  I didn't return any of your messages and I hadn't spoken to you since.  Not once.

     I stared at the screen on the computer while my mind waged a war inside my head.  Should I call him? Or should I keep hiding, wallowing in the Hell of my own making?  At that moment I closed my eyes and saw you.  I saw your soulful eyes, the dark brown in them so bright when you were amused with me, or burning with a carefully contained fire when I made you angry.  I saw the beguiling smile you used to get on your face when I dared drop ranks and flirt with you.  And I heard your deep voice.  The quiet, almost worshipful way you spoke my name.  Before I could stop myself, I'd hit the button, and your handsome face filled my screen.

     Your surprise registered plainly on your face.  "Captain?"

     I smiled involuntarily at the sight of you.  "Hello, Chakotay."

     A gentle smile tugged at your lips.  You followed my lead and dropped rank.  "It's good to hear from you, Kathryn.  I see you're at your mother's house in Indiana.  What happened to your new apartment near headquarters?"

    Yes, small talk would be a good thing.  I found myself feeling very grateful to you for starting it.  "It's … uh."  I chuckled softly.  "It's too damned quiet.  No Borg attacks, no battle drills."

     You nodded knowingly.  "Yes, I've had that same feeling here.  For seven years I longed for peace and quiet.  Now I find it's driving me mad.  But I don't imagine it's much more hectic at your mother's house, is it?"

     "We're not at Red Alert, if that's what you mean.  Although, Phoebe brings her toddler over and it seems like we've been boarded and are under attack.  Looks like a battle has taken place when she leaves, too."

     You laughed at that.  Did I ever tell you how much I love your laugh, Chakotay?  Then a moment of awkward silence followed, and I knew you were wondering why I'd called.  I couldn't tell you the answer because I wasn't sure myself.  You narrowed your eyes and looked at me carefully.  You always were astute, especially when it came to your captain.  "Is everything okay, Kathryn?"

     "Of course," I lied.  "Everything's fine. I just wanted to see how you're doing.  It's been a while."

     "Yes, it has."  You smiled, but your eyes continued to study me as if you thought you could read my thoughts if you tried hard enough.

     "Do I need a reason to call an old friend?"

     "No," you answered instantly.  "You never need a reason for contacting me.  You know that.  But I'm not stupid either.  I know you, Kathryn.  Something's bothering you."  You leaned closer to the screen, studying my image intently.  "You've been crying, haven't you?  What is it?  What's wrong?"

     I felt the tears well up again, and silently cursed myself for letting you see it.  "Nothing's wrong, Chakotay.  I just – "  I forced myself to look at you.  I'm a lot of things, but I'm no coward.  I met your gaze.  "I needed to see your face and hear your voice.  I've missed you, that's all."

     "I've missed you, too, Kathryn."

     I thought I saw affection, maybe even longing in your eyes.  But I was sure I was imagining it.  I wanted to ask about Seven but couldn't bring myself to do it.  Instead I just smiled sadly at your image and reached my hand out, gently touching the screen.  If the gesture surprised you, you didn't show it.  You simply touched your own screen in response and said, "Maybe we could meet for lunch?  I have some time off this week."

     "Sounds wonderful."  I put on my best professional smile. 

     "Great.  I'll call you Monday, and we'll plan it."

     I nodded.  "Monday," I repeated.  "I'll talk to you again then."

     You hesitated, looking suspiciously at me.  "Are you sure nothing's wrong?"

     I wanted to tell you how sorry I was for all the pain I caused you.  But I wanted to get off the line and hide under the blanket.  I wanted to tell you how much you meant to me, to thank you for all you brought to my life.  But I wanted to go outside and run through the cornfields until I was too exhausted to think.  Mostly, I wanted to tell you how sorry I was that I pushed you away and missed our chance.  I did what I had to do, I knew that even then.  But that didn't mean I liked it.  And I wanted to tell you about the holoimages, about how happy we looked together.  I wanted to forgive you for being with Seven and not telling me about it.  And I wanted to tell you I always knew that it was you.  You were my one true friend.

     Instead, I did what I always do.  I put on my captain's mask and shoved my emotions to the back of the line.  I smiled bravely at you.  "Nothing's wrong, I promise.  I think you just love to worry; it's your nature."  I watched as you smiled back at me, and I hoped you believed me.  "I'll see you Monday, my friend."

     "I'm looking forward to it."

     "As am I," I smiled.  Then I hit the button and ended the transmission.

     Didn't I just say I'm not a coward?  There I go lying to myself again.  I was certainly a coward that night, wasn't I?  All those things I wanted to tell you, so much I wanted to say.  And when I saw your face, all I could manage was, "I miss you."  Well, so much for bravado, hmm?

     I continued to berate myself as I returned to my spot on the sofa and pulled the quilt tightly around me.  I stared at the holoimage of us, the brilliant hues of the sunset behind us making it look like an image from a romance novel.  We were in a way, you know?  A love story of epic proportions.  The polished Starfleet captain, and the seductively dangerous Maquis rebel, thrust together by fate – it's very clichéd isn't it? Star-crossed lovers, she bound by duty and unable to pursue her deepest desires.  And he bound by loyalty to stay always at her side and take whatever she could give.  Silly as it sounds, the idea brought me comfort.  It descended around me like a warm blanket reminding me that you did love me once.  No matter what became of it I had been loved by you, and that made life a little sweeter somehow.  That must be when I finally dozed off.

     It was a fitful sleep filled with changing images.  I wouldn't call them memories exactly.  They were moments from my past, but they were distorted and nonsensical, as dreams tend to be.  They swept me up and surrounded me like water at the bottom of a deep pond and I was drowning in them.  For what must've been hours, I watched the movies my mind created behind my closed eyelids and was completely absorbed in them.  That's why it took several rings before I heard the door chime.

     I slogged to the door, running a hand through my unruly hair and tripping over my mother's thick throw rugs.  I muttered a few colorful expletives, all the while wondering who would be ringing my mother's doorbell in the middle of the night.  I fumbled with the old-fashioned doorknob, still not fully awake, and then yanked the door open rather ungracefully.  That's when I heard you chuckle, and I wondered briefly if I was still dreaming. 

     I rubbed my eyes and then looked up at you, confused.  "Chakotay?"

     "Hello, Sleeping Beauty," you grinned as a gust of cold air rushed in around you.  "I'm sorry to wake you."

     I covered my mouth in an attempt to stifle a yawn and tried to shake the stupor of sleep out of my head.  "What makes you think you woke me?"

     That prompted a hearty laugh from you.  "Do I really need to explain it to you?" you said, gesturing to my apparel.

     That's when I remembered I was in my nightgown … and cold.  Blushing, I folded my arms across my chest and grinned.  I must've been quite a sight.  "What are you doing here?"

    "You seemed upset earlier.  I know you said it was nothing, but I was concerned.  When you didn't answer my calls, I went to the nearest transport site and came over."

     That's so like you, Chakotay.  Being there for me even before I realize how much I need you to be.  "That's very kind of you but I'm fine."

     We stood there for a minute staring stupidly at each other.  Then you flashed me that smile, the one with the dimples that I think you save only for me.  "It's a little cold out here, Kathryn.  Can I come in?"

     Oh, my mother would be so ashamed of me if she knew!  I still can't believe I left you standing out there in the autumn wind.  "Of course!  Please, come inside."

    I saw your eyes darting about the room, taking in the sights.  I could tell by your soft smile that my mother's house was much as you'd pictured it.  As I saw you survey the scene; my empty wine glass, Neelix's photo album lying open on the coffee table, my slippers on the floor - I knew you had a pretty good idea how I'd spent the evening.  Wallowing in memories of the good old days and sipping liquor to numb the ache.  I suddenly felt nude standing there in my bedclothes, my activities and my shoulders exposed for you to see.  So I pulled the quilt off the sofa and wrapped it snugly around myself.  And then I remembered the image of us I was holding as I drifted off to sleep.  My first thought was to conceal it before you saw it, but I was too late.  It slipped from the sofa when I tugged the blanket off and fell to the floor by your feet.  You were already bending to pick it up.

     I watched you carefully as you examined it.  Emotions played across your face like an old silent movie.  I saw something darken your eyes.  Was it sadness?  Did you miss the way we used to be as much as I did?  "You, uh … you dropped this," you said.  Your hand trembled slightly as you held the holoimage out to me.

     "Thank you."

     I babbled nervously about how the book belonged to Neelix, and I'd found it left behind in his quarters as I tried to settle the image back into its spot on the collage.  I was wasting time, stalling – which is unlike me.  I got us coffee, and you patiently listened and responded to my small talk.  Finally, I ran out of trivial things to say, and we sat on the sofa staring at each other.  Me, still wrapped tightly in my security blanket, and you clad in a thick burgundy sweater that made you look Earthy and rugged.

     "So," you said, resting a hand on your knee.  "Are you going to tell me what's bothering you, or do you want me to guess?"

     I shrugged, feigning indifference.  "I already told you.  I just missed you."  You stared at me as if you were waiting for me to go on, so I did.  "I saw you everyday for seven years, Chakotay.  Then suddenly we're home, everything is different, and I don't see you in the seat next to me.  I looked through the photo album, all the pictures of our crew, our family.  It made me a bit emotional, that's all."

     "I miss them, too.  It's been weeks since I saw most of them.  I wonder how they're doing."

     I couldn't help myself.  "And Seven?  How is she?"

     Now you were the one feigning nonchalance.  "She's fine."

     And why shouldn't she be?  She wasn't alone with nothing but a damned book of holoimages.  The anger flared suddenly, and I tried like hell to suppress it.  I knew it wasn't your fault, not entirely anyway.  But it took all my years of practiced self-discipline not to take it out on you.  I guess, even at my age, some immaturity still remains.  "Well," I said, rising to my feet.  "I appreciate you running to my rescue, Commander.  But as you can see, I'm perfectly fine.  It's very late, and I don't want to keep you from … your other obligations."

     Your brow wrinkled and I knew you were wondering where in the hell that came from.  No doubt you sensed my turbulent emotions bubbling just beneath the surface.  You always have been able to read me like a book.  "My other obligations?"

     I ignored the question, walking toward the door.  "It was good to see you.  I'll contact you sometime next week and we can have that lunch."

     You stood still as an oak, looking at me.  "I'm not ready to leave yet.  I don't think we've finished talking.  In fact, I don't think we've really started."  You looked at me pointedly.  "Have we?"

     I puffed out an exaggerated sigh and rolled my eyes.  I did it because I was frustrated and realized that I still wasn't ready to discuss Seven of Nine with you with anything resembling maturity.  But mostly I did it because I know you hate it.  I rubbed my forehead.  "I'm tired, Chakotay."

     "Me too, but I'm not leaving.  If you want me to go you'll have to throw me out."

     I stared at you, amazed at your audacity.  You can be as obstinate as me sometimes.  I could tell by the firm set of your jaw that you meant it.  I sighed again, resigned to the inevitable, and slumped down in my mother's chair.  "Very well.  What would you like to talk about?"

     You didn't sit down.  You stood in the same spot, your eyes daring me not to look away.  "I think it's time we discuss Seven."

     I felt my anger rising again.  "Oh, really?"  My voice was dangerously quiet, but I couldn't help it.  "Why now?"  I didn't even give you a chance to answer as I glared at you.  "You've been seeing her for months.  You were seeing her when we were on Voyager, and you didn't bother to tell me then.  So why now, tonight?  What's changed that makes you suddenly want to discuss it now?"

     Unruffled, you gazed evenly at me.  I hate it when my anger doesn't affect you, it's infuriating.  "I wanted to discuss it then, when we were on Voyager, but you brushed me off."

     "What are you talking about?"

     "I came to your quarters.  It was about a week before Admiral Janeway came aboard, remember?  We had dinner.  I made TerraNut soufflé."  You were still facing me, but your gaze turned inward as you recalled the memory.  "I tried to tell you that I was seeing someone but you cut me off.  You said that the first officer's private life was none of the captain's business."

     Yes, I remembered that night.  You seemed so ill at ease.  Now I know why.  "I remember.  I made some lame joke about not debriefing you on your social life and changed the subject."

     "Yes."

     "I thought you were about to tell me about some crewman from the lower decks that you were having dinner with or something.  One of your casual dates to keep up the pretense of a social life," I said.  "I had no idea you were going to tell me you were seeing a member of my senior staff!"

     "You never gave me a chance."

     Oh no, I wasn't about to take all the blame for this one.  "Well, you gave up rather easily, as I recall.  And that was months ago!  You haven't even attempted to try again since then, have you?"

     You ran your hand through your dark hair in frustration and sat down on the sofa.  Your eyes were heartrending as you looked at me.   "I didn't know how to tell you, Kathryn.  I just didn't know how."

     "I can imagine.  It's not really something you casually blurt out over coffee and scrambled eggs."  I met your gaze and tucked a disobedient lock of hair behind my ear.  "You and I weren't exactly having heart to hearts then, were we?  It's been a long time since we've talked like old friends."

     You smiled sadly.  "Too long."

     "I know I've pushed you away, Chakotay.  But when the admiral told me about you and Seven I didn't know how to take it.  I guess I felt betrayed – by both of you." 

     "I can understand that."

     I stood and walked over to the window.  Not for the first time, I missed my viewport.  The stars look different from space, more tranquil somehow, and they always brought me comfort during our difficult conversations.  I longed to be among them again, back in the days when you and I were enough for each other and I saw your handsome face every morning.  The words were out of my mouth before I even realized it.  "Do you love her?"

     "Kathryn – "

     I turned to face you, trying to blink back the tears that flooded my eyes.  They clouded my vision, giving the whole moment a surreal feeling.  Or maybe that was my mind trying to emotionally detach from the situation.  "Do you love her, Chakotay?"

     Silence.

     "Answer me."

     You shook your head slightly.  "No, I don't think so."

     I felt my eyebrow climb up my forehead.  "What the hell does that mean?  You don't think so?  Either you do, or you don't.  Which is it?"

     "It's not easy to explain."

     I felt myself glaring at you.  "Try."

      "Look, you know that I was never interested in Seven.  I'm the one that didn't even want to keep her aboard, remember?  I didn't plan any of this.  Hurting you is the last thing I ever wanted to do, you know that."  You came and stood in front of me.  Your voice wavered slightly as you spoke.  "You do know that, don't you, Kathryn?" 

     You looked at me, your eyes searching mine, silently pleading for understanding.  Until that night I had no idea that you were hurting, too.  I should've known but I was too caught up in my own swirling emotions.  Suddenly, I felt incredibly selfish and narrow-sighted.  My anger immediately began to dissipate and I found that all I wanted was to comfort you.  I wanted that more than anything in the universe.  I put my hand on your shoulder and stepped closer to you.  "Yes, I know you would never intentionally hurt me.  I shut you out, Chakotay.  I pushed you away.  Hell, I practically crammed Seven down your throat.  I wanted you to like her and see in her all the potential, all the raw humanity that I saw.  And when you came to me for affection and emotional intimacy, I turned you away.  It's my own fault."  I reached up and tenderly stroked your cheek, my heart beating faster at the feel of your skin beneath my palm.  "I can't blame her for wanting you.  You're a remarkable man.  If I've lost you to her, I have only myself to blame."

     You closed your eyes and leaned into my hand, slowly rubbing your cheek against my palm.  Then you took my hand in yours and held it against your heart.  "You haven't lost me, Kathryn.  I only tried to go on with my life because I thought you'd given up on us.  I thought there was no chance."

     "But Seven – "

     "Was a diversion," you cut in.  "She asked me on a date.  I was flattered.  She's half my age, for crying out loud.  Nearly every man on the ship wanted her attention, and she pursued me.  It was new and exciting and the attention was intoxicating.  We never took it beyond a few dates, and I know she isn't in love with me.  I think we were mutually infatuated, that's all.  She lavished attention on me in her own way.  I admit, it went to my head.  I'm a middle-aged man, Kathryn.  I came home with far more wrinkles than I had when I left."

    I smiled wryly at that comment.  I had acquired a few lines and creases myself.  "Are you saying you were having a mid-life crisis, so you decided to get yourself a young, perky blonde?"

     You chuckled.  "I would hardly call Seven's stoic personality 'perky'".

     I arched an eyebrow playfully.  "What makes you think I was talking about her personality?"

     That inspired you to laugh outright, and I couldn't help but join in.  You pointed a finger at me.  "You're naughty."

     "No, not naughty.  But I'm not blind either."  Now your eyebrows rose.  "Oh, come on.  Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I didn't notice.  My chest was never that perky, even before gravity had its way with me.  But then my body was never surgically enhanced either.  The doctor practically sculpted her to his own design."

     Your face grew serious as your eyes traveled slowly over my form, still clad only in my nightgown.  "You don't need surgery to be beautiful, Kathryn.  You're beauty goes much deeper than that.  Seven's only pretty.  You're beautiful.  And there's a world of difference between the two."

     Wow!  I felt as if my breath had been ripped from my throat.  For a moment I couldn't speak, which – as you well know – is a rarity for me.  I always have something to say.  I decided that words didn't matter.  I didn't have the ability to articulate how your words made me feel.  Instead, I wrapped my arms around your neck and pressed my head to your chest.  I just wanted to hold you, to hear your heart beating beneath your breastbone.

     You moaned softly at the contact, and folded me into your arms.  You hugged me tightly to you, dropping your lips into my hair.  I don't know how long we stood there holding on to one another like our lives depended on it.  All I know is that I would've been perfectly contented to stay in that very spot for the rest of my life. 

     Finally, you dropped a chaste kiss on the top of my head and then pulled back slightly to look at me.  "Tell me about the holoimage, Kathryn.  The one I found on the floor.  Is that what made you cry?"

     I was glad you brought it up.  There was so much I wanted to say to you. No matter how that night ended, you had to know how much you added to my life.  I took your hand and led you to the sofa.  Once we were settled by the fire, I plucked Neelix's photo album off the coffee table and sat in on our laps.  I watched your face carefully as your eyes traveled over the collage of images, and I knew you were reliving each of those moments just as I had when I saw them.

     "I found this in Neelix's quarters and brought it here with me.  Before tonight I'd never taken the time to look at it."

     You caressed the pages gently with your hand.  "It's beautiful."

     "Yes," I said.  "I don't know what possessed him to make a collage of us."

     You smiled softly.  "They all knew how I felt about their captain.  Especially Neelix. He had a way of sensing things like that."

     "Well, whatever his reasons, he did me a tremendous favor."

      "Oh?  How so?"

     I nodded toward the images.  "Sitting here all alone tonight looking at those pictures was a bit of a catharsis for me.  I learned a great deal about myself and about what you've meant to my life.  I owe a lot to you, Chakotay."

     You touched my hand, covering it with your own.  "You owe me nothing.  Anything I may have done for you was given freely.  I've never expected anything in return."

     "That's not what I meant."  I pointed to the image of us on the alien planet.  "I mean I owe a lot of my perceptions to you.  Look at us in this picture.  You're showing me the sunset."

     "I doubt it was the first time you'd stopped to watch the sun go down, Kathryn."

     "Of course not.  But it was the first time I really saw it, the enormous beauty of it.  It's not just a G-2 type star dropping below the line of sight as the planet rotates in orbit.  It's more than science.  It's a cacophony of colors and shapes, hues of varying intensity and shades I'd never seen before.  And the smells, I remember the scent of the alien flora in the air, exotic and a little spicy.  It tickled my nose as the breeze carried it along.  And the grass – it was the most wonderful shade of blue-green, and it was soft beneath my feet like thick, plush carpet."

      I knew I was as animated as a child on Christmas Eve but I couldn't stop myself.  I needed to tell you.  "You taught me to see the wonder and beauty in the world.  You made me take time to find the joy and experience the journey."

     "You may not know it, Kathryn, but you did the same for me.  You enriched my life, too.  In more ways than I know how to describe."

     I took your face in my hands and noticed that your eyes were shiny with unshed tears, just like mine.  "I want to thank you for always being there for me, for being my friend.  No matter what was happening you were always there by my side, even when I told you not to be.  No matter how big of a mess I got us into, when the dust settled – you were always there with your quiet strength to lift me up and brush me off.  I needed it.  I survived on it, even if I didn't know it at the time.  It was always you.  You were the light inside of me. 

     "I never told you, never even thanked you for the incredible gift you gave me.  I never told you how I felt even though I knew how badly you needed to hear it sometimes.  And for the rest of my life, I'll regret that."

     You shook your head softly and wrapped your arms around me.  "Kathryn – "

     I gently pressed a finger over your lips.  "Shhh.  Let me finish.  I have to say it.  Thank you for all you gave me.  For the years of support and friendship, and for the love you gave me – even when I wasn't able to accept it.  I love you, Chakotay.  No matter what happens between us from here on out, you have to know that I love you and I always have.  I'm only sorry I didn't say it sooner."

     I guess you were pretty stunned because you struggled to gain control of your breathing and just stared at me.  I was beginning to wonder if I'd made a huge mistake, and then you cupped my face with your hands and rested your forehead against mine.  Your voice crackled, racked with emotion, when you finally spoke.  "I have waited so long to hear you say those words.  I'd given up hope.  Spirits, Kathryn, you are the other part of my soul.  Everything that is wondrous and beautiful in me comes from you.  I was head over heels in love with you the day we watched that alien sunset.  And I'm even more in love with you now."

     I don't remember exactly what happened next, who moved first or who kissed whom.  All I know is that when I felt your lips moving against mine, the rest of the universe stopped – and all was still.  Not a molecule or a single atom moved.  There were no other worlds, no other beings.  There was no Seven of Nine, no Voyager.  There was only you and me.  No games, no denial.  Just us. 

     And I will never be the same again.

     Everything weighing on my mind disappeared as you pulled me onto your lap and held me against your chest.  I'd been in your arms before but never like this.  You encompassed me and I closed my eyes, sinking deeper into you with each moment.  We sat that way for a long time, just holding each other and being together.  We didn't rush into the physical side of our new found relationship.  That part would come; there would be time.  For the moment, we just wanted to be close to each other and let the reality of it all sink it.

     We went outside a short time later to watch the sunrise.  "Come on, Kathryn," you said.  "Let's go see all those colors and shapes we've never seen before.  This time, you can tell me what you see."  You took my hand and led me into my mother's cornfield, and we watched Sol rise in the morning sky.  It was like seeing it for the first time.

     Life is funny, isn't it, Chakotay?  We spend seven years dancing around each other.  And then in one night, in one conversation, we came together.  Somehow we found a way to tear down the barriers and cross the great chasm that used to separate us.  We have always done things our own way, hmm?

     That was two weeks ago, and we've hardly spent a night apart since.  It hasn't been without struggle, each of us learning to overcome our behaviors of nearly a decade.  But it's been more wonderful than I ever imagined.  I'll still stumble, probably even fall, but that's okay.  And even if the ghosts lurk and the demons still howl, I know that you'll be right there beside me.  And the world is suddenly larger and the galaxy more wondrous because I have you to explore it with.

     Yesterday, deep in one of your retrospective moods, you asked me to put pen to paper and tell you of our journey, how we got here.  You said that it began with me, and my night of solitude and holoimages, and you wanted to know every detail.  I hope this letter is what you were hoping for.  Though it was such an incredible night of intense ups and downs, I can scarcely do it justice with mere words.

     I look at you now, your arm draped over your forehead in your sleep.  You're exquisite in your repose and I know that I could deny you nothing.  Here we are, Chakotay.  Sharing a bed, sharing our lives.  I don't know what the future has in store for us.  But I know one thing; it'll never be dull.  We have a whole new relationship to explore, and all because you were my one true friend.

I love you,

Kathryn