Author's Manifesto: I am a firm believer in the fact that JC is not all about sex and angst, but about the fact that they are best friends and make each other incredibly happy (and they are head over heels for each other!). In keeping with this belief, I have one goal with this story: to let Janeway and Chakotay just be HAPPY! This will be a happy story. It picks up at the end of Christie Golden's Enemy of my Enemy series, and blithely ignores all Kristen Beyer.

All rights to Paramount and Christie Golden

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"If you lose the ability to act when you feel, you will lose the ability to do both." -C.S. Lewis

Kathryn Janeway couldn't actually remember the last time a man had turned her into a hopeless puddle of goo. Typically, she was the one turning the man into a stuttering idiot. Not because she was incredibly attractive or anything like that, but because she had a commanding presence and could quietly manipulate. As a woman, these were not always the best traits to have, but they were essential qualities as a captain, and she had capitalized on them. In situations like that, she was definitely the one in the control, and she usually got exactly what she wanted. Or rather, what she needed. Dilithium. Computer components. Replicator rations.

Replicator rations. Enter the man who was effortlessly turning the tables on her. She knew something was up, because it wasn't relief or exasperation flooding through her veins as she stood with three other admirals, waiting for Voyager's new captain to beam into Starfleet Headquarters. It was anticipation, excitement, and unmistakable dread. It was as bad as being a teenager again.

She remembered the dizzying sensation that had grasped her when, before Voyager had departed, he had easily embraced her and kissed her cheek. In front of everyone. She was fairly certain she had done a good job of not swooning on the spot, but he might have noticed the surprise in her eyes. He hadn't said anything about it, though. And then he was gone. And then he was missing. Being impersonated. And then she had known nothing but worry and fear for his life. Even as she had sent Tom Paris after her missing friend, she had dreaded what he would discover.

Please don't be dead, Chakotay. I think I would know if you were dead.

She had thought these words repeatedly as she had sat, trapped and helpless, at that damned conference. At least, she had mused when Tom had hurried away on his mission, at least Chakotay and she had parted on good terms. They hadn't been fighting, or sending each other into impossible danger.

Standing slightly behind Owen Paris, Janeway swallowed the painful lump in her throat.

The subspace transmission from Tom and Harry: Captain Chakotay and Spiritual Adviser Sekaya successfully rescued. Sekaya sustained injuries and has been successfully treated. Changeling escaped. En route to earth.

Alive. Alive, alive, alive. And, she reminded herself very sternly, she was not going to throw herself at him.

There was a shimmer in the air on the transporter pad, and Janeway felt her body tense. Smoothly, the shimmer assembled itself into the shapes of Chakotay, Tom Paris, and Jarem Kaz.

Breathe, Kathryn. Teeth clenched. "You've got to breathe, Kathryn!"

Okay. Too close. Inhale and exhale. Does that work better?

And then he was stepping off the transporter pad, extending his hand to Admiral Montgomery, and Montgomery was in charge, and they were all turning and following him out of the transporter room towards a conference room. Janeway stared at his broad shoulders as she and a confused-looking Tom Paris brought up the rear of the procession. She stared and willed the color of the uniform to change from gray to black with a bold red. The uniform that they both wore – that visually pulled them together.

They entered the conference room and Owen gently nudged her toward a chair and she dumbly sat in it, grim command mask firmly in place. It was the only thing that was going to get her through this debriefing without betraying every last heightened emotion that was surging through her small body. She stared at the table. In the corner of her eye, she saw Tom and Kaz take seats across the table from her, glancing at each other. Tom knew her too well not know something was amiss.

And if he knew, then –

Chakotay passed behind her, and without any pause to draw attention, drew a finger gently across her shoulders.

She knew he felt the involuntary shudder that ran down her spine at his touch.

And then he was sitting, calmly, several seats away from her, and Owen, Montgomery, and Kapewalu were starting to go over the report he had sent ahead. She hadn't read it. She was only here because Owen and walked past her office forty minutes ago. She had been stewing, trying to focus on reports and conference reviews and hitting her head against the proverbial bulkhead. It was several seconds before she had sensed a presence in the open doorway, and she had glanced up to see Owen Paris watching her. Again, she had hoped her face had not betrayed too much, but Owen had known her for a long time, and she had learned that control and mask from him. He knew how to read its nuances, and he knew what being chained to a desk instead of a command chair in a crisis felt like.

"Kathryn, come with me."

"I'm busy, Owen."

"I know. Come with me."

She tried to breathe evenly and focus on Chakotay's voice as the admirals asked him if he would care to elaborate on his experience under the influence of Sky Spirit DNA.

"No I wouldn't, actually."

"Oh?" Montgomery's voice cooled.

But, curse that noble placidity… "I believe that what I included in the formal report is more than sufficient. It gives you all the data that is applicable to finding the Changeling, and information about the colonists. Beyond that, it was a – spiritual – experience."

Janeway felt herself unable to clamp down on the smile that was finding her lips. That argument would work on her. On a review board of full admirals…

"Spiritual?" Skeptical this time.

Chakotay shrugged easily. "Personal, then."

Mongtomery let out a breath that could have been a sigh, and glanced at Paris and Kapewalu. "Well?"

"Leave it," Owen said calmly. "I think Captain Chakotay is perfectly capable of understanding the line between personal experiences and duty."

The conversation moved on, with Janeway trailing one step behind it. As per usual, Chakotay acquitted himself with all the tact and control that she knew he possessed. She flushed with pride. Not just with pride in a fellow officer or even friend who had done a good job. With pride that someone so extraordinary had chosen to be her friend.

"I want to take Captain Chakotay to the sickbay here and run a few more tests, admirals." Kaz was talking now as the meeting wrapped up. "I know I pronounced him physically and mentally fit for duty, but I'd also like a second opinion if I may."

Chakotay nodded to Kaz as the admirals gave their consent and dismissed the meeting.

"Admiral Janeway, if you would accompany us?" Kaz fixed his eyes on her and she startled back into the present. "If anyone here can vouch for the captain's identity and mental state, it's you."

"Of course," she managed, rising from her chair.

In a dazed few moments, she struggled to maintain her composure as everyone filed out of the room. She did register that Owen clapped his hand on Tom's shoulder and steered him down the corridor towards the mess hall.

His hand – unmistakably his hand – on her back surprised her, and she fell into step with him and Kaz on the way to the turbolift.

"Sickbay is on the fourth level," Kaz said kindly, standing aside for her and Chakotay to enter the lift first.

He didn't follow them in. "I'll catch the next one," Kaz told them with a grin, and pressed the control for the doors to close. Janeway could have sworn he winked.

"Level four," Chakotay ordered. "You're quiet," he said softly.

His fingers tangled into hers.

Like being shocked by an overloaded power relay, Janeway responded involuntarily, grabbing desperately at his hand.

"Halt turbolift," he said, and the lift slid to a quiet halt.

And then he had her wrapped into a tight embrace, one hand cradling her head, fingers twisted into her hair, and the other pressing into her back.

"Chakotay," she rasped in a muffled voice, blindly pressing herself into his arms harder and trying to tamp down on the butterflies in her stomach.

They stood together, holding one another, and Janeway's mind slowly eased itself back into a state of coherence.

"You're alive," she whispered into his shoulder. "I was so worried…I…I'd like to think I would have know somehow if…"

He shifted so he looking down into her upturned face. "You would know, Kathryn." He was serious, but also, inexplicably, lighthearted about his comment.

"I'd like to think so," she said again, feeling her legs threaten to turn to jelly. Her proximity alert was going crazy: the one that applied to attractive men, not the one that warned of drunken alien diplomats.

He was cradling her face in his hands. "I want to talk to you later, Kathryn. I wasn't about to tell any of those admirals about what happened to Sekaya and me, but I want to tell you. I need to tell you."

Her heart thudded around erratically for a moment before remembering it was supposed to beat predictably. "Okay."

He smiled gently. "Can we have dinner?"

She nodded. "My place or yours?" It was a question they had both asked each other dozens of times.

"Yours. Fewer prying eyes."

The jelly-leg intensified. "Prying eyes, Chakotay?"

He shrugged, moving his hands to hers. "What was it you said once about writing your log on parchment in the Da Vinci simulation? That you wanted to get as far away from Borg cubes and spatial anomalies as possible?"

"I remember that."

"I need to be away from all of that for a few hours."

"Well, you know where I live."

He squeezed her hands. "And I remember that there is an excellent deli down the street. I'll pick up sandwiches on my way. Do you want the usual?"

She nearly collapsed as she remembered that below these distractingly strong emotions, they had known each other this well for years. "Yes."

He nodded. "Are you okay?"

She struggled for a few seconds before finding an honest answer. "I think I will be."

His hand brushing her cheek. "Resume turbolift."

=/\=

The chime at her front door set her startled her badly. Taking deep breaths, Janeway opened the door. The sight of Chakotay standing on her porch with a bag full of sandwiches and a knowing grin, however, sent a flood of pure joy through her and she broke into a smile. She ushered him in.

"Come in, Chakotay. I've made coffee."

He stepped past her into the living room and made his way into the kitchen as if he did it every day of his life. "It smells amazing."

"The smell of coffee is almost as good as drinking it. And those sandwiches smell pretty incredible, too."

She joined him in the kitchen, pulling plates from a cupboard.

"I may have cheated and also brought cookies," he admitted, removing sandwiches in butcher paper and a small sack of cookies.

"Oh, that's definitely cheating," Janeway answered, snatching the sack and helping herself to a cookie. They were chocolate chip.

"Hey, you haven't eaten dinner yet," Chakotay laughed, moving towards her.

"You're not my mother," Janeway teased, backing away.

He pinned her against the refrigeration unit. "She wouldn't approve either."

Impulsively, Janeway broke the soft cookie and forced a piece of it into his mouth. "Nope," she laughed and wormed past him, stuffing the rest of the cookie into her mouth.

To her surprise, he grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her into the air and carried her over to the couch and dropped her on it. Janeway scrambled onto her knees and their eyes met. "I swear, if you try to tickle me…"

"You'll what?" He cut in playfully, "report me?" His hands found her ribs and she tried to slither away from him even as she laughed, delighted at the attention.

A pillow found its way into her hand and she let loose with it, smacking Chakotay in the face until he stopped and she found herself suddenly assailed by another couch cushion. Abandoning all pretense of being Starfleet officers, or even adults, Janeway and Chakotay barraged each other with pillows, darting around and over furniture as they indulged in a full-on pillow fight. Several padds clattered to the floor, the rug turned into a rippled pond, and wooden bookend found it's way under the coffee table.

And then Janeway found herself breathless, and Chakotay was throwing her reading blanket over her head and pulling her back into him. He promptly picked her up and again dropped her onto the disheveled couch, pinning her there.

"Do you give up?" he asked, tickling her.

"Yes! You're going to suffocate me," Janeway gasped from beneath the blanket.

A moment later it was torn away, and she breathed in fresh air and Chakotay's own scent as he looked at her. "Nah, I wouldn't suffocate you," he said, winking.

Janeway chuckled and shoved him playfully in the chest. "That's reassuring." She sat up and laughed outright, looking around at the untidy living room. "I haven't had a pillow fight in ages."

Chakotay leaned back into the cushions comfortably. "Something tells me you always beat your sister."

Janeway raised an eyebrow, remembering the many pillow fights she and Pheobe had had. Those had not generally started or ended in a friendly manner, but she had tended to win. "And something tells me you always beat Sekaya."

Chakotay looked at her and grinned. "We didn't have pillow fights. But I did like to toss her in the lake."

Her grin met his and burst into a full smile. "Remind me not to go anywhere near a lake with you."

"I won't throw you into any lakes until I know how well you swim," he said, rising from the couch. He wandered into the kitchen.

"You know how well I swim," she reminded him, thinking of the river on New Earth.

"Is that an invitation to throw you in a lake?" he asked, returning with their dinner.

"No. But I could get used to getting waited on," Janeway teased, leaning forward to pick up the salami sandwich on her plate.

"As long as I don't have to wear a tuxedo," Chakotay said.

"I'll let it slide."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as they ate. Twenty minutes later the sandwiches were gone and so were all the cookies. Chakotay was leaned back on the sofa, and Janeway was resting her boot on his knee.

Chakotay looked over at her lazily. "Spirits, how I've missed you, Kathryn."

She smiled at him and reached for his hand. "Mutual. Especially when I didn't know if you were dead or alive." She squeezed. "I can genuinely say I have never been happier to see you than I was this afternoon."

He tugged on her hand and pulled her closer to him, draping his arm around her shoulders. "You looked…I don't know, actually," he confessed. "I was worried about you this afternoon. You're normally so in control. You looked like you'd just found out that the Federation had decided to dissolve and let the Borg take over." He shook his head. "I take that back. If that was the case you'd have been carrying a phaser rifle."

She smiled and leaned into his shoulder. "To tell you the truth, I was trying very hard not to throw myself at you to make sure you were really alive."

His head bent protectively over hers. "I'm alive."

"It's a lot harder being behind a desk when my family is in trouble than it was being the captain – even if things looked hopeless. I could always do something then. At headquarters I'm not even supposed to acknowledge anything is happening."

His head shook slightly. "Don't let Starfleet take that away from you, Kathryn."

She snorted. "I worried plenty, they can't stop me from worrying."

His fingers slipped through her hair and she felt her scalp tingle. "No, I mean that you spent seven years without a day off, never letting that mask of control slip. I don't think it was healthy for you. Don't bring that to work with you, okay? You're a human being and you are definitely allowed to have emotions. I don't think anyone could think less of you for them."

As always, his advice hit home. He was right. She was entitled to her emotions. "What have I done without you, commander?" she joked. Sobering, she admitted quietly, "I'm just not sure I can feel anymore, you know? Even if I wanted to feel something, could I? And if I can't even feel, how am I supposed to show how I feel?"

They were talking in meta-circles now, something they were inherently skillful at.

His hand kept passing through her hair, soothing. "You feel, Kathryn. Those of us lucky to know you well can see that."

"I try not to let anyone see. How can you always tell, anyway?"

He chuckled. "You're just as expressive as B'Elanna or Harry, you just show it differently. It's not all on your face – it's in your shoulders and your hands. In your eyes. You get tense and go stiff. If you're angry, you sort of snap your fingers. And I can't describe how I can read your eyes, but somewhere along the line I learned to."

"Mmm. I'll have to work on not feeling guilty anytime I feel something unprofessional."

"Like what?"

She shrugged lightly. "Annoyance? Irritation?"

Chakotay sighed. "How about concern or affection?"

"Those might be really hard."

"Probably. You'll get there."

The lapsed into silence again, with Chakotay gently twisting her hair through his fingers. Janeway resolved to simply enjoy his affection for a moment before changing the subject. After a few moments, she looked up at him. "I'm sorry, you said you needed to talk. I've only been talking about me, I'm afraid. Will you tell me about what happened?"

He nodded slowly, his eyes looking into the distance. He took a breath. "I went on a spirit walk with Sekaya. That's not something that our people have ever tried before, but it worked."

"Incredible. She was there, with you?"

"Yes. I saw her and talked with her. And we saw each other's spirit guides. There have only been a handful of reported instances where someone has seen another's spirit guide. It was very…humbling." He paused for a moment, contemplating their joined hands. "I've never considered myself to be very strong, spiritually. I've always felt like I did it the wrong way around, rejecting my father's beliefs as a child and then coming to them later as an adult, but for all the wrong reasons. I wanted to honor my father because I loved him. I didn't yet respect him or really believe that spirits or the spirit world was real. When I found out that it was – and came to believe that it wasn't just some kind of altered mental state that I could explain away – it was far too late for me to ask for forgiveness or guidance from my father. So now, even though my faith is real to me and comforts me, I feel small and naïve inside of it."

Janeway gently squeezed his hand. To her, he was a giant. But he wasn't looking for reassurance; he needed to tell her something.

"During this spirit walk, I felt myself growing bigger than I believed was even possible. I didn't know that any being was capable of interacting on such a level. I didn't just walk with my spirit guide, I went on a journey and met other spirits. Strong ones that only come to people under hard circumstances or who warn people of danger and hardships. I was very, very humbled.

"And then I realized that I wasn't tied to the spirit world that I was used to. I could go anywhere. I met another guide who told me I had been obedient so far, but that I should try to…test my abilities. He said I could do anything I wanted. I knew exactly what I wanted, Kathryn." Chakotay pulled her closer and touched her cheek.

"I went to you. I wanted to let you know somehow that I was all right. And I was astonished when I found you."

Janeway felt tears well up in her eyes. "You came to me?" she whispered hoarsely.

"Out of everyone in the universe, I wanted you," he smiled. Janeway felt warmth rippling through her body.

"And there you were," he continued. "I know you feel, Kathryn, because for the few moments I was with you I was nearly overpowered by the emotions you were feeling. You were angry because you couldn't do anything to help us. Frustrated that you were stuck at that damn conference. You were worried about me."

Tears leaked quietly through Janeway's lashes as Chakotay's voice dropped and he stared hard into her eyes.

"And there was so much love, Kathryn," he said thickly. "You think you can't feel, but I know you feel more than you could possibly understand. The amount of affection and devotion you have inside you is staggering. You've got so much pure sincerity inside of you that the powers that be can't help but stop and look at you. I know."

Janeway swallowed at the lump in her throat as she cried, trying hard to keep eye contact with Chakotay through the stinging in her eyes and the burning in her chest. Oh yes, she could feel things. And the intensity of her emotions was threatening to engulf her. "I didn't…sense you…"

He shook his head softly. "No – I couldn't make you hear me. But I could hear you."

"I wasn't talking," she managed through her tears.

"No. You were thinking. 'I think I'd know if you were dead. Hang on, we're coming for you.'"

At the sound of her own thoughts coming from his lips, Janeway felt a surge of tears and she covered her mouth, shaking. "You were there. With me."

His own tears finally came. "I was. And I swear I will never, ever leave you to wonder if I'm dead or not. I would find a way to let you know."

She nodded, and they pulled each other the last few inches into an embrace, soothing the other with their presence. In those moments, Kathryn Janeway made several admissions and promises to herself. The first was that she was going to tell him – even though he already knew – that she loved him. The second was that she was going to admit to herself that she was in love with him. The third was going to be telling him that, too. Because one day death was going to catch up with her again, and it was never kind when it did. And so fourth, no matter what Chakotay's response to her feelings was, she was never going to waste another minute with him. She loved him and wanted all of him. The man that teased her and chased her around the living room, the man that she could just look at and he would understand exactly what to do, the man that would hold her hand under the table. And she was going to give him every part of her in return.

He interrupted her resolutions by pulling gently away from her. She took a breath to speak, but found his finger on her lips. "Kathryn, may I kiss you?" he asked softly.

A shaky breath escaped her. "I want to tell you first – now – how much I love you. I have loved you for a very long time, and I've been in love with you for nearly as long." They were going to do this, and they were going to do it on even ground. Her heartbeat steadied. "Dammit, please kiss me," she whispered to him.

A broad, deep smile spread over Chakotay's face. And then both of them leaned in, both with full disclosure, understanding, and respect for the other. The kiss was not hungry or lustful. It was sweet and genuine, warm and slow. Because that was what they were – they were not the sexual tension or the charged atmosphere or the product of too many years without human affection. They were dear friends that had forged that friendship in fires of misunderstandings, political differences, power struggles, danger, and hard decisions. It had been bought at the cost of other relationships, long days, sleepless nights, and had only come after years of working at it. The sexual tension and the chemistry, those were results of their friendship, and they would follow.

As his lips tenderly explored hers, Janeway knew it would come later. They were in no hurry, they never had been. To rush now would be to miss the profound experience of simply being in love with each other, and being open about it. She would sleep alone tonight, but she would sleep more deeply and restfully than she had in many, many years.

[TBC]

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Author's Soapbox: I honestly think that JC would not be the type of couple to go from first kiss to bed in under sixty seconds. Hence, this. Please read and review!