Private Resolutions

This is a missing scene from "Resolutions". You know, the episode where Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay are infected with a virus which means they have to be left behind on a planet alone together? And remember how one night Captain Janeway in her dressing gown decides to discuss with Chakotay "the parameters of their relationship"? Remember all that? Well THIS is the scene that comes directly after that discussion and was cut from the network television version, for obvious reasons… ;)

Some events from the canon episode are incorporated, if you've seen the episode recently you'll know which they are. It seemed to me that a lot of meaningful looks went unexplained – so I decided to explain them. I have not touched at all on the other part of the plot which takes place on Voyager.

All from Chakotay's point of view.

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It had been an exhausting and emotionally devastating day. We cleaned up all the debris from the storm, and catalogued all the destruction. I don't know who we thought we were keeping the catalogues for, but Starfleet protocol dies hard when you've lived all your life under that framework. I think… no scratch that, I *know* Kathryn was having a hard time resigning herself to the idea that we would be here on "New Earth" for the rest of our lives.

Spirits! Even the name "New Earth" – it represented both an unwillingness to let go of our former destination and a reluctance to settle down and commit to life here by giving this planet a proper name and identity of its own.

By the end of the day I think we were both exhausted and depressed. I can't remember exactly what I was making, but I remember looking over and seeing Kathryn trying the rub the knots out of her own shoulders. I would have laughed, but even though she didn't like me to call her "Captain" any more, she wasn't quite relaxed enough with me to allow herself to be laughed at except on her own terms.

I remember my mother telling me that anyone who tried to massage their own shoulders was either desperate, or sending out a plea for help *and* desperate. The nature of using your own arms means that any massage you give yourself will be short, as your arms tire quickly from the angle, and mostly ineffective anyway.

I moved around behind Kathryn and offered to rub her shoulders. I tried not to stroke her hair as I moved it out of the way, but I couldn't help noticing the scent of the herbal shampoo she had been experimenting with making. Her science officer background was making her pay attention to all aspects of our future life here, even if she couldn't admit it to herself.

As I worked my hands over her shoulders I let the memories wash over me. Memories of doing this for my mother blurred with memories of doing this for many other women, not always with the purest of motives. There is something very sensual, very intimate about touching someone this way. Hands on shoulders isn't an obviously sexual touch, but the deep strokes of a massage and helping someone to relax – if well done it can develop intimacy between two people faster than nearly anything else. And I do it very well, or so I've always been told…

I must have lost my concentration and stopped moving my hands as I was thinking about all this, because the next thing I knew Kathryn was breaking the mood by standing up and moving away. She softened her goodnight with a smile, but I knew what she meant – she wasn't comfortable with me touching her this way. I needed to give her more time. She was still reconciling herself to the loss of her hopes that one day we would get back to Voyager and she would resume her role as Captain to my First Officer. We had the rest of our lives here, alone with only each other – I could afford to wait.

Actually, I didn't have to wait as long as I thought. Later that night she must have been thinking about what happened between us, as I saw her moving around behind her privacy screen, obviously not sleeping. She has always been full of courage and has never been afraid of facing any issue head on. That's one of the many things I've always admired about her.

She came right out and sat down across from me. Not a good sign, in my opinion. The best way to conduct a difficult conversation is with the other person sitting next to you, so you can look away if it gets to be too much. My ideal conversation would be conducted at the helm of a shuttle, flying through a mostly empty region of space. You can pretend to look at the stars then, if you need to look at something other than the person's face.

She got straight to the point. "I think we need to define some parameters – about us."

Spirits, that's blunt! Not exactly the romantic opening I had been hoping for, but we're in Starfleet, so let's by all means be direct. It's easy for me to say that now, but at the time I was rather taken aback. I only managed the brilliant response, "I don't think I can." Damn, that wasn't very smooth. Honest, but not very smooth.

Slightly panicked, I fell back on old habits from around the campfire. Discussions about relationships are hard, but storytelling comes easily to me. So I told her my story – how I feel when I'm with her, how she filled a deep need in me, even before I knew what it was that I needed. How making her happy, and safe, and building a home for us satisfied everything I ever wanted, or nearly.

She called me on my smokescreen of course. With that quirk of her eyebrow she asked, "Is that *really* an ancient legend?"

I was forced to admit that it wasn't, but that it was my way of telling her what she meant to me, what she has always meant to me. She smiled at me and laced her fingers with mine, but she had tears in her eyes. They weren't just tears of emotion and love, they were mingled with tears of loss and grief. I knew the hardest part of this conversation was still to come. I felt her hand trembling in mine as she asked me one more thing. "Will you promise me something?"

I kissed her fingertips, then relinquished her hand, setting her free. "Anything."

She looked down at the table, away to the shelves. Could it be that Kathryn, my brave, strong resolute Kathryn – could she possibly be embarrassed? She blushed a little as she said, "This will probably sound silly to you, but I need you to reassure me… to promise me something." She took a deep breath and speared me with her gaze. Whatever this was, and despite her disclaimer of being silly, this was going to be something important and probably difficult. "I want you to promise me that if a miracle happens, and we end up back on Voyager, that we resume as Captain and First Officer. That whatever… relationship we develop here stays here if we ever leave."

She shrugged a little and seemed to laugh a bit at herself. "Oh, I don't know how it could happen, and maybe it's my denial speaking that I'm even thinking about this. But if they find a wormhold to the Alpha Quadrant and come back for us, or if Q appears and cures us and whisks us back to the bridge of Voyager, or whatever… I need to know that I will be able to be the Captain again and to rely on you absolutely as my First Officer. I don't want to have to think twice about hurting your feelings if I don't explain my commands. And I don't want you ever to mention what happens down here, not to anyone else and especially not to me even in private. It would be a difficult transition, especially if we are here for any length of time, and I will need to focus completely on resuming command." She took a deep breath and sighed. "Do you still want me under those conditions?"

I almost choked that she could even ask me that. Surely she would know that I would want her under any conditions? Besides, Q coming to our rescue seemed vanishingly improbable, so it probably had no bearing on anything. If she wanted to stipulate for any conditions in the distant and unlikely future that would allow me to have her in the definite here and now, I could live with that. I wondered briefly if she would really hold out if I refused - if she would give up our current happiness in order to hold onto the dream of Voyager. I decided that it would cost me nothing to let her hold onto her dream. So soon after the destruction of her science lab she wasn't ready to face more loss.

I couldn't help pushing a little at the edges of her denial though. "What if we have children by then?"

She gasped a little, and turned pale. "Children?"

I shrugged at her. "That is the natural implication of what we're discussing, isn't it? I always thought I'd have children one day, and in the absence of advanced medicine we need to think about it sooner rather than later."

"Well, yes, I always thought I'd have children… someday. I never imagined having little salamanders with Tom Paris, but having children with you would be… wonderful." She glanced up at me with a little smile. "I think you'd make a very good father. But how about we practice a little first, before we aim for children?" Her smile broadened to a grin, and she took my hand and lead me to what would become *our* bedroom. This time it was my fingers that trembled in hers.