Five

There was no stopping the children once the suggestion of presents had entered the equation. The adults gave up, deciding to save dessert for later in favour of gift-opening first. Kathryn and Chakotay helped Gretchen clear the table, listening to the rising tide of excitement in the next room as the two girls set about dividing up the presents into piles for each person.

"Just put everything on the side, we'll sort it out later," Gretchen said of the dirty dishes. "Then come and sit down."

Chakotay looked hesitant. "Mrs Janeway-"

"Gretchen."

"Gretchen," he corrected himself with a smile. "Lunch was wonderful and I appreciate you inviting me to share it with you all. But now I really think I should leave. I don't wish to impose on your family time any longer."

Kathryn turned away, a little surprised at how sharp the stab of disappointment that shot through her ribcage was at his words.

"But you haven't had any dessert," Gretchen protested. "And anyway, it's not an imposition at all. We'd love you to stay. Wouldn't we, Kathryn?"

"I think we've probably taken up more than enough of Captain Chakotay's leave already," she said, turning around again, perfectly composed. "It's about time we let him get back to exploring Paris."

"Nonsense," scoffed her mother. "What's the point of being in Paris alone? It's called the city of love for a reason."

Chakotay smiled. "Actually, I've missed my opportunity for sightseeing now, anyway. As I told Kathryn the other day, I'm visiting other friends while I'm on Earth, too – Tom and B'Elanna Paris, in fact. They're expecting me tomorrow morning."

"Well then, stay tonight," said Gretchen. "We've got a spare room. Why spend credits on a hotel or go all the way back to Starfleet digs in San Francisco when there's a perfectly good bed here?"

"Mom," said Kathryn. "He wants to go. Please just let him."

"Kathryn, why don't you ask him to stay?"

"Because he has perfectly good reasons for going, particularly since the only reason he's here in the first place is because he was ordered to be. Anyway, what's the poor man going to do? Sit around and watch us open presents? How is that going to be a good evening for him?"

Gretchen sighed, and then shrugged. "Well, I tried," she said. Then she went to Chakotay and pulled him into a hug. "It was good to meet you properly at last," she said. "Thank you for all you did for my daughter out there in the Delta Quadrant. I'm glad I've finally had a chance to say that in person. You're a good man, Chakotay."

Kathryn watched as Chakotay gently hugged her mother in return. "Thank you for your hospitality, Gretchen. It was the best meal I've had in a long time."

"You're always welcome in this house. Now, go say goodbye to the others and then Kathryn can see you out."

She shooed Chakotay in front of her and then, before Kathryn could follow, closed the kitchen door and turned sharply to her daughter.

"Kathryn, if you waste this you'll regret it for the rest of your life. And quite frankly, you'll deserve to."

Kathryn sighed. "Waste what? Mom, he's here because he had to come, he stayed because he was being polite. And now he's going because he wants to."

Gretchen shook her head. "How much more work are you doing to ask him to do?" she said. "He's been holding a door wide open for you all afternoon and all you've done is hesitate on the threshold. We can all see it. Why can't you?"

Kathryn threw up her hands, exasperated. "I've known him for eight years. Eight!" she hissed, quietly enough for her voice not to carry but fiercely enough to brook no argument. "For seven of those, we saw each other every single day. We lived next door to each other. We ate together. We talked and we talked, and we talked. So maybe you could give me the benefit of the doubt and do me the courtesy of believing that perhaps – just perhaps – I know him better than you do. You said yourself that he's a good man. He is. He's the best man I know. In seven years in the Delta Quadrant, he never, not once, put himself first. He always made sure everyone else was happy, no matter what it cost him, and he was doing the same today. You embarrassed me by bringing him here, mom. Do you understand that? You embarrassed me - and you embarrassed him, too. But he knows how important this ridiculous day is for this family and he knew what you wanted from him and he did his best to smooth things over because that's the kind of man he is. Now please – please – let him go. I did. A long, long time ago."

With that, she opened the door and stepped past her mother, leaving a silent Gretchen behind her.

Chakotay was standing in the hallway, shaking Doug's hand. Phoebe kissed him on the cheek and then led her husband back into the living room, leaving them alone. Chakotay looked at her for a moment, a slight smile on his face. Kathryn smiled back, trying to mean it.

"Quick," she said, with a jocularity she didn't feel. "Let's get you outside before my insane family hatches some elaborate new conspiracy to trap you here."

Chakotay laughed and opened the front door. She followed him out into the cold air, pulling the door shut behind them and crossing her arms as the chill of the Indiana winter washed over her. They stood side by side for a moment, looking out over the landscape, which had somehow taken on a bleaker look than Kathryn had noted before.

"I know I can't make up for today, Chakotay," she said. "All I can do is apologise – again."

He shook his head, but didn't look at her. His gaze flicked over the landscape before them, instead. "There's no need, Kathryn," Chakotay said, softly. "They're the happiest few hours I've had for quite a while."

She smiled. "You should re-train as a diplomat. Starfleet would be grateful," she told him. "Your tact and patience are extraordinary."

Chakotay smiled. "I've never needed much of either around you."

Kathryn made a sound in her throat. "Well, I know for a fact that that is a lie."

He turned toward her, his smile transforming into a serious expression that darkened his eyes even further. "You're too hard on yourself."

She smiled again, trying to make the expression reach her eyes. "Hardly. Look at today. Although I suppose I should call it an improvement that this time you were only dragged across a planet, not a galaxy, and it was only for a day, not the best part of a decade."

He shook his head, a brief look of frustration passing across his face. "It wasn't down to you. But even if it had been – if you had sent me a message asking me to be here without any explanation at all, I would have come. You know that, don't you?"

Kathryn sighed. "I know you would. Which is exactly what I was telling my mother just now."

"No order necessary, Kathryn. You'd just have to ask. And if the shoe were on the other foot, you would do the same for me. Or at least, I think you would."

"Of course I would."

He nodded. He looked out at the wintery landscape for another moment, and then frowned. "What's that? It wasn't there earlier."

Kathryn looked in the direction that he nodded and couldn't help giving a half-laugh, half-sigh of exasperation. Suspended from the roof of the veranda over the steps that led down to the path was a small sprig of greenery.

"Don't ask," she told him. "Just a ridiculous final parting shot from my family. That must have been what Phoebe needed Doug's help with earlier."

Chakotay moved closer, curious. "What is it?"

"It's mistletoe," Kathryn said. "It's… an old tradition associated with Christmas. You don't want to know."

He looked over at her. "Why don't I?"

"Because it's as absurd as everything else that has happened today."

He raised his eyebrows. "Well, now you definitely have to tell me."

"If two people are caught standing under a branch of mistletoe, they're supposed to kiss," Kathryn told him as she walked over and pulled the greenery from its mooring. She looked at it briefly before turning to throw it onto the seat of the old bench that stood by the door.

Chakotay said nothing. When she turned back to him she found he was watching her.

"What?" she asked.

"Just wondering why you took it down."

She huffed a sigh of half-laughter that had nothing to do with mirth. "I think we've both been put on the spot enough for one day, don't you?"

"You think not having it up there will stop me wanting to kiss you?"

The question came from so far out of left field that for a second she thought she'd misheard. Kathryn stared at him, a low buzzing sound rising in her ears.

"I don't need an old tradition to make me want to do that, Kathryn," he told her. "All I'd need to know is that you'd want me to. It's all I ever would have needed to know. I came here because of an order, but I stayed because I wanted to, and I don't need mistletoe to make me think about the way I would like to say goodbye to you now."

The buzzing grew louder. Kathryn's breathing had fallen shallow and she knew she was still staring at him, but she couldn't tear her gaze away. Chakotay looked back at her, his eyes dark but bearing a question that demanded an answer.

She opened her mouth, but couldn't find her voice.

"I've missed you," he said, moving closer. "I didn't realise just how much until I saw you laughing at me from the other side of the table at lunch."

Her eyes were still fixed on his. "I've missed you, too," she said, trying to keep her voice even. "I miss you."

"I want to kiss you," he told her, just a step away and speaking so softly she could only just hear him above the sound of the whirling wind. "I've wanted to kiss you for years. How many more chances do you think we're likely to get?"

Kathryn blinked, the jolt in her heart caused by his confession so powerful she felt lightheaded. "Maybe none," she whispered.

"Then please just come here," he said, reaching for her. Chakotay pulled her to him, hands cupping her face as hers found his waist and then swept up his broad back to his shoulders. Their lips met, softly at first, slowly, but quickening as sensation overtook them. He pushed her backwards, gently – tangled together they moved, stumbling against each other until Kathryn found herself against one of the veranda's supporting posts. Chakotay pressed himself against her, a warm, heavy weight that blocked out the cold of the day completely. His hands left her face and brushed her neck and shoulders before sliding slowly down her sides, and she shivered as she felt the power in them, the strength that had been her support for seven years.

The kiss ended slowly, although in some ways it didn't end at all. Kathryn rested her head on his chest and then leaned back against the post, looking up at him. He raised one hand to brush the hair away from her face. Neither of them was smiling – for some reason, the moment had too much import for that.

"Who needs tradition, that's what I say," Chakotay whispered.

Kathryn lifted a hand to touch his left temple. "Says the tattooed man…"

He did smile at that. "True."

Warm in his embrace, she whispered, "I don't want you to go."

"I don't want to leave."

His words thrilled her to her core. "But I also don't want… this… whatever this turns out to be… to belong to anybody but us. Does that make sense?"

Chakotay kissed her again, slowly, mouth full over hers, their noses brushing. "Yes. It does."

She brushed the short hairs at the back of his neck. "So what do we do?"

"Come to Paris with me."

"I thought you had to be somewhere else? Uncle Chakotay?"

He smiled indulgently. "Meet me there next week. Let's see the New Year in together. Can you take more leave so soon?"

Kathryn smiled. "I'll see what I can do."

"New Year in Paris," Chakotay murmured, leaning in to her again. "Could be the start of a new tradition."

She pushed herself up on tiptoe, pressing herself against him to reach into another kiss. "Could be."

Kathryn stayed at the door, watching him walk away until his figure was lost between the skeletons of the leafless trees that edged the property. Even when she could no longer see him, she stopped outside a little longer, breathing in the cold air, processing what had passed between them. Her lips felt swollen from the weight of his kiss, and a delicious ache of anticipation had lodged itself low in her belly, where it would stay, she was sure, until they kept their date in Paris.

Eventually, not even the heat of their encounter was enough to keep the winter chill at bay. Kathryn opened the door and went inside, stamping her feet on the mat. Then she took a deep breath and walked into the living room.

Her mother was sitting in the same chair that she always did. Kathryn walked up to her and knelt beside her on the floor. Then she put her head in her mother's lap.

"We didn't need the mistletoe," she said.

Gretchen stroked her hair and smiled.

"I didn't think you would," she said. "That was Phoebe's idea."

[END]