You'd think he'd never seen a pair of breasts before.

"Chakotay," I hiss under my breath the moment the Doctor's back is turned. "You're staring."

"What?" He jumps guiltily, eyes dragging upward, and tugs on his earlobe. "Sorry, Kathryn. I mean, Captain."

I roll my eyes at him, but can't help preening a little. It's nice to know I've still got it. Even if 'it' is exhausted, sweaty and out of standard uniform.

"You're free to leave, Commander," the Doctor announces. "All signs of the virus have been eradicated from your bloodstream, as well as the rest of the crew's. I'd prefer you get at least twenty-four hours' rest, but I'm sure you'll be back on duty in half that time."

I slip a hand under Chakotay's elbow as he eases down from the bio-bed. "I'll make sure he gets adequate rest, Doctor. We'll be at all stop for at least three days while we repair the damage to the ship, and the Tak-Tak have assured me that we won't be bothered."

"My, my, Captain," the EMH offers archly as I start to usher my first officer toward the exit, "if I'd known it was this easy to force the crew to take proper care of themselves, I might have infected the ship myself…"

The swish of the Sickbay doors closing cuts off the end of his jibe.

"Let's get you home, Commander," I decide, my hand still tucked into his elbow.

"Uh. Sure."

I can't help noticing Chakotay's continued sidelong glances in my direction. As I hustle him into the turbolift and call for the officers' deck, his gaze slides over me again.

Maybe it's post-viral delirium, maybe it's leftover adrenaline, or maybe it's just about damn time. Whatever the reason, I decide right here and now that I'm done passing up the opportunity that's dangled so blatantly before my eyes for the past two years.

I plant my hands on my hips, enjoying the way his gaze rivets to my torso, outlined in the standard-issue tank.

"Chakotay?" I pitch my voice low as I slink closer to him.

"Yes, Captain?" His hand strays to his ear again.

"Do I have something on my shirt?"

"It's not what's on your shirt," he mumbles. "It's what's inside it."

"You mean these?" I lift my hands to cup my breasts, and his eyes narrow, mouth tightening.

"What are you doing, Kathryn?"

I shrug, deliberately following the movement with my cupped hands. "They're just breasts, Chakotay. Nothing particularly special about them."

"Special?" He manages to wrench his gaze up to my face. "Are you kidding? They're yours, Kathryn."

"And that makes them special?"

The turbolift slides to a halt, saving him from answering. But before he can make a mumbled escape, I blithely link arms with him again and escort him down the corridor.

Standing in front of his door, he glances at me warily.

"Well, go ahead, Commander." I rest a hip against the door jamb, well aware that the pose makes the most of what curves I have. "You haven't forgotten your code, have you?"

He taps the code into the panel. The door swishes open and he raises an eyebrow at me.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Are you ordering me to, Captain?"

For the first time, my confidence deflates a little. "Oh. Well, I wouldn't want to impose –"

"Kathryn." He turns to me in the open doorway, folding his arms. "If I invite you in, there's only one way I see this evening ending."

"Oh?" I feel the smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "And what makes you think we're not on the same wavelength?"

He lets his arms fall to his sides. His eyes are very dark and I can't help swaying toward him, just the tiniest bit. It's enough to hear his soft intake of breath. "I want you to be absolutely sure about this, Kathryn. If you come inside…"

I place a hand on his chest and shift closer, so close my leg brushes his thigh. "If I come inside, Chakotay, I'm absolutely sure that this evening will end the way we both want it to."

He searches my eyes a moment longer. Apparently satisfied with what he reads in them, his hand comes up to encircle my wrist.

And the next thing I know, I'm pressed up against the bulkhead just inside his quarters. Before the doors have even slid completely shut his lips are on mine.

Finally, is the only thought in my mind before all conscious thought is subsumed in pure sensation. I've fantasised about kissing Chakotay so many times in so many circumstances, but even my wildest dreams pale in comparison to the reality of his hot mouth on mine, his silken tongue sliding into my mouth. And his hands… Warm and sure, they spread over my ribcage as I raise my arms to lock around his neck, his touch gentle without being at all tentative. The tips of his fingers stroke upward until they reach my already-hard nipples.

One of us is making soft, needy little groaning sounds, and I think it might be me.

He breaks away from my mouth to plant kisses down the length of my arching neck. I feel his tongue lapping at my skin, and that's when I realise that he's probably tasting salt.

Crawling through Jeffries tubes and racing around toting a phaser rifle has left me less than fresh.

"Chakotay," I gasp, pulling away. "I think I – I should probably take a shower…"

Without pause, he sweeps me up into his arms and strides toward his bathroom. Pulling off my boots and kicking his own off his feet, he calls for a hot-water shower, and as soon as the water starts to flow he carries me – fully dressed – into the cubicle and sets me down under the spray.

"Chakotay!" I'm half-laughing, half- exasperated. "You could've at least let me undress first..."

"And deprive myself of that privilege?" He grins as he shrugs off his own sopping-wet turtleneck and reaches for the hem of my undershirt. "Do you have any idea" – he eases the shirt over my head – "how many times, and in how many ways" – he unfastens my pants and pushes them down my legs – "I've dreamed of taking your clothes off?"

I hold onto his shoulders for balance as I tug the pants off my feet. "Probably about as many times as I've thought about taking off yours," I admit.

He catches my hands before I can unfasten his pants zipper. "Can I ask you something?"

I nod, but my attention is on the way the rivulets of water catch and pool in the hollows of his collarbones, overflowing to trickle down that smooth hard chest I've touched so many times.

"Why now?"

I'm almost too distracted to realise how serious he is until his hands squeeze mine, gently, and I look up into those dark eyes.

"Kathryn?"

"When Neelix and I got back to the ship and realised what had happened," I chew on my lip, "I found you in the mess hall. There were a dozen other crew in there too, but you were the only person I saw. You were slumped over a table, unconscious. For a minute I thought you were dead."

He squeezes my hands again.

"I was terrified," I tell him frankly. "All these pictures rushed into my head of what it would be like to sit on that bridge without you beside me. Of no more working dinners or trips to the holodeck, or surprise roses in my ready room. No more of that smile you have just for me."

He gives me that smile, and I try to return it.

"But the worst thing was, for that moment, I lost all hope. I imagined Voyager arriving home and stepping off the ship without you at my shoulder, and trying to figure out what was left of my life without you in it. And I couldn't do it. I couldn't bear it."

His eyes are soft now, and he lets go of my hands to cup my face, leaning down to press his lips gently to mine. He's smiling, and now I am too.

"I take it you're satisfied?" I ask him when we break apart for breath.

The wicked gleam in his eyes makes me shiver. "Not yet," he answers, and he shifts closer so that his body rubs deliciously against mine. "But the night is young."

He reaches behind my back and unhooks my bra, sliding the sodden straps down my arms. His gaze lowers to my breasts, swollen and hard-tipped, and he grins wolfishly.

I place a hand on one hip. "Well, Commander? How do they rate?"

"Better than I ever dreamed," he growls, and reaches for me.

I arch my back for his cupping hands, his thumbs drawing lazy circles around my nipples and making me catch my breath. When he dips his head to lap at one, sucking and nipping as his other hand pinches lightly, I feel my knees starting to buckle. He anchors me to him with one arm around my waist, drawing me against him so I can feel him, hot and hard through his uniform pants.

"I think," I gasp, "at least one of us is overdressed."

He lets me ease back so that I can unzip his pants and hook them down his legs; they land with a wet splat on the floor of the shower and he kicks them away. Now we're both down to the last scraps of our underwear, and I can't wait any longer to see – and feel – all of him.

My thumbs hook into the waistband of his shorts as he tugs my panties downward. Hands knocking and fumbling, we wrestle away the last of our clothing and I immediately reach for him, palming his cock in my hand. It's thick and heavy, and as I run my thumb over the head he jerks and hisses. Delighted, I do it again, and he grabs my wrist, warning, "Kathryn…"

Ignoring him, I sink to my knees. I take hold of his hips and grin up at him; he's staring down at me, anticipation warring with need in his expression. I don't give him the chance to stop me. He groans, and I hum in response, the vibrations making him twitch and swell.

"Stop," he gasps, tugging on my hair, and reluctantly I let him help me to my feet. He fits his mouth to mine, his hands roaming boldly now, my skin tingling everywhere they touch. The water sluices over my shoulders and chest as he backs me up against the wall.

And then he's sinking to his knees, warm hands spreading my thighs as his mouth moves between my legs. At the first swipe of his tongue my head falls back and my pulse speeds up. Oh, God, I manage to think as he licks into me, he's good at this…

A bubble is rising inside my chest, my abdomen tightening as he draws delicious patterns on my heated flesh. There's a red haze behind my eyes and my breath is short. He slides one broad finger into me and curls it forward, and I can't hold on: I burst, limbs shaking, gasping as he gentles me down, pulling me into his arms.

When I can speak again I look up at him and find him watching me, smiling.

"You look pretty pleased with yourself," I husk, and he laughs.

"Computer, water off. Sonic dry," he orders, and when we're both completely refreshed, he helps me back to my feet.

"Now what?" I ask archly, wrapping my arms around his waist. The position reminds me that he didn't let me finish what I'd planned to do to him. I wriggle my hips and enjoy the resultant growl.

"Now we move this to somewhere more comfortable," he says, and adds as I rotate my hips again, "Witch."

"Play nice, Commander," I admonish, teasing him with a slow drift of my fingernails over the curve of his ass.

"I'll show you nice," he retorts, and scoops me up into his arms again. I yelp and he laughs, and in just a few strides we're at the foot of his bed.

He tosses me onto it, snickering as I bounce. "Hey!"

Before I can protest further he's on me, pinning my arms each side of my head as he straddles my legs. "Sometimes, Kathryn, you need to give up control," he smirks.

He dips his head. A long, flat lick across my nipple has me catching my breath, and the vibrations of his laughter against my skin is almost enough to tempt me to give in.

Almost.

It takes a few seconds of careful manoeuvring, but I manage to slide one thigh to the outside of his and trap his leg between mine. Pulling my arms downward, still in his grip, I lean up and nip at his jaw, and in that sweet moment of distraction I tilt my pelvis sharply to the left and flip him onto his back.

"Ha! Now who's in control?" I tighten my thighs around his hips and press my chest to his, keeping my weight on our joined hands.

But I've underestimated his strength – and apparently I've forgotten he's no slouch on the wrestling mat. He releases my hands, linking his arms around my hips, and before I can wonder what he's up to, he uses those very fine abdominal muscles to push me upward and over until I land on my back, my head at the foot of his bed and one very large, very warm and very naked first officer sprawled on top of me.

Well. It mightn't have been exactly what I planned, but – I suck in a breath as he rubs against me, hot and thick and ready – I'm not too upset about the way it turned out.

Neither, it seems, is he.

Our lips meet again, and the playful energy of moments before mutes into soft, slow touches and needy whimpers. My body goes pliant as I feel him pressing against me, into me. He slides through slick heat, filling me up, the sensation so thrilling that my back arches and my fingers clutch at his shoulders. A slow dragging slide out, a firm thrust in, and I'm moaning, barely able to keep my eyes open as we move together.

He's definitely in control now, playing me in ways I'd never suspected he could, bringing me spiralling upward until I'm breathless, poised on the swell of the wave. But I don't want to fall without him.

I reach up to cup his face. "Chakotay…"

His eyes fix on me, glazed and heavy-lidded.

"I love you," I whisper, and in that moment the wave breaks over us.

As the ripples recede and our hearts slow, my fingers drift over the damp skin of his shoulders and he presses his lips to my throat, then looks up to frame my face in his hands. I'm surprised to see laughter bubbling behind the tenderness in his eyes.

"What's so funny?" I can't help the answering twitch of my lips.

"I was just thinking…" he dips his head to hide the broadening grin, "if only I'd known that openly staring at your breasts would end up like this, I wouldn't have been so subtle about ogling you in the past."

I snort out a laugh, enjoying the feeling of his skin on mine as the breasts he's so fixated on rub sensuously against his chest.

"I hate to tell you this, Commander," I smirk, "but your ogling has never been particularly subtle…"