Category: VOY

Rating: PG-13

Author: LadyChakotay

Summary: Tuvok observes his captain she struggles to suppress her feelings for Chakotay. How can an emotionless Vulcan help his friend come to terms with her feelings?

Disclaimer: Yada Yada Yada. Paramount owns them. Jeri Taylor created them. Braga and Biller don't seem to know what the hell to do with them. The actors give them life in our eyes. And me? I just provided the stage this time. No infringement intended.

And Then I Saw You Crying

I do not live my life as a hostage of my emotions. What's more, I have spent what would be considered, by your standards at least, an entire lifetime striving to suppress and control them. There was even a point when I believed I had evolved beyond experiencing such feelings at all. Curious. That seems so long ago now.

I watch you now from my station on the bridge. I have watched you for many years, always in silence. And though we've never discussed it, I am certain you're aware of it. I am certain that you have sensed it.

I know you well, my old friend. I know your strengths, and they are many. In fact - you are, without a doubt, the strongest human I have ever encountered. Likewise, I also know your weaknesses. Your 'fallibilities' as you call them. Most of them are of no concern to me. Not because I am uncaring, but rather because I know without hesitation that you recognize your weak areas and have found ways to compensate, even rise above them. Therefore they do not warrant concern. There is, however, one exception.

You see, there is one substantial weakness that you hide even from yourself. You are able to conceal it without sizeable effort because it is, at times, a strength as well. When you seem on the very edge of despair, you unknowingly turn to it. You draw strength and courage from it. Odd how this vulnerability can also make you strong. It is most fascinating.

At this particular moment, the very foundation of that weakness is present on the bridge. He is seated in the chair next to yours, where he has been since the day our two crews became one. His place has always been at your side. He is the water to your fire, the missing portion of your katra. I see that clearly, even if you do not.

His eyes observe you as you walk to the helm and rest a hand on Mr. Paris's shoulder. Perhaps the gesture makes the commander envious. Or perhaps, like me, he knows that it is merely a testament of who you are. You are a tactile individual, needing to physically connect with your crew. I have long believed that you do so to feel the life force pulsing inside them, thus sustaining your own.

It is part of my culture, and thus my nature, to resist physical contact with others. I neither desire nor require it. Yet, you frequently reach out to me. A hand on my shoulder, a brief touch on my arm, and even – on rare occasions- an embrace. I could not tolerate such actions from any other member of this crew. However, from you, Captain – it is … acceptable.

You turn to address Ensign Kim, but your eyes focus briefly yet intently on another. No one else seems to notice the silent exchange that occurs between yourself and the commander. I, of course, observe it effortlessly. It is a common occurrence. The connection between you is a powerful one. In fact, I cannot recall ever witnessing a bond of this magnitude between two people who have not experienced the telepathic joining of the Pon Farr. It is most remarkable.

There was a time when this concerned me. I believed that if you chose to pursue an association of a more … intimate nature with the commander, it would certainly lead to the destruction of your command relationship. Starfleet Command frowns on starship captains who involve themselves with their subordinates. And, under normal circumstances, I concur. Ours are not normal circumstances, however.

I believed that any association between yourself and Commander Chakotay extending beyond the confines of casual friendship was foolhardy. I believed that you were correct in your attempts to suppress your feelings for each other, in your refusal to acknowledge the bond you obviously share. And, I believed that I was incapable of experiencing any emotions whatsoever on the matter. Surely I, Tuvok of Vulcan, practitioner of the Kolinahr, possessed sufficient discipline to control such basic emotions. I was certain that to involve myself in your personal affairs would be both inappropriate and illogical…

And then I saw you crying.

It was nearly 12 hours ago. 0300 in the mess hall. I entered the darkened room, anticipating being alone at such an hour. I noticed you immediately, standing in the shadows near the viewport, staring out at your beloved stars. I wondered how long you'd been standing there, searching the pulsars and distant suns for solace. I turned toward the door, planning to leave you to your solitary contemplation. The journey to inner serenity must often be traveled alone.

And then I heard you crying.

It was faint. Someone without my superior Vulcan hearing would not have detected it at all. I was unsure of what I was hearing at first, but the characteristic shaking of your shoulders confirmed my suspicions. Though I do not shed tears, it should be known that I am not altogether unfamiliar with the process of crying. Many humans do it frequently. Kathryn Janeway does not.

Apparently you did not hear me come in, because I watched you for several minutes unobserved. I was uncertain as to what action to take. Logic would dictate that I respect your privacy and slip out quietly. Yet, I discovered that I could not. I was unprepared for the response your suffering evoked in me.

I felt …

Yes, I felt.

I experienced emotions. Sorrow for your pain. Affection for the friend you have become. Anger at whatever situation was causing your grief. And even fear. Fear that I would be inadequate, unable to offer comfort and aide in your time of need. But I knew that I must remain with you.

"Captain…"

I uttered it so softly I was uncertain you'd even heard it. But you turned to face me. Your short hair disheveled uncharacteristically. Your cheeks tear stained and pale. And your eyes – they conveyed a look of such remorse and loneliness one can scarcely imagine. It can only be described as haunting.

And that's when it happened.

As I looked into the face of my dear friend, I experienced a feeling more alien to me than any other... Longing. I longed to touch you, to embrace you in the manner I had witnessed you do to others countless times before. And so, in an instant I closed the distance between us and held my arms out to you. I was aware of how awkward such a gesture must appear coming from me. And yet, you did not laugh or turn away. Instead, you fell into my embrace and let the tears flow freely onto my uniform.

I am uncertain how long we stood there, folded securely in one another's arms. I thought nothing of the passing of time. I thought only of the way your slight form felt in my embrace, molded against my chest as though there were no distinction between where you ended and I began. I felt your aching and loneliness as keenly as if we had been engaged in a mind meld. Complete and utter isolation. And for a brief moment, I longed for my wife, T'Pel. Missed her in such a way it brought about a physical ache. That is when I knew what was causing your pain.

"Perhaps your decision was in error."

You looked up at me, clearly confused. "My decision?"

"I do not wish to pry in your personal affairs, Captain. However, as you are my friend, your well-being is of utmost importance to me. It is in that respect that I offer my assistance. Perhaps you would feel better if you discussed the matter. Your feelings for Commander Chakotay are obviously a source of great suffering for you."

You took my hand, an interesting sensation, and led me to the sofa. "Am I that obvious?"

I felt my eyebrow arch in response. "Perhaps only to my keen sense of perception." This solicited a small laugh from you. I am still uncertain as to why you found my answer humorous.

You retained your hold on my hand, and stared contemplatively ahead as you spoke. "I'm very glad you're here, Tuvok. Your presence comforts me. But I'm not sure I should talk about it … to anyone."

I had expected as much. "Very well. Then perhaps you can simply listen." In a disturbingly Vulcan manner, you arched an eyebrow of your own, but said nothing as you waited for me to proceed.

"When I said that your decision may have been in error, I was referring to your efforts to suppress your feelings for Commander Chakotay. You believe that pursuing a relationship with him would jeopardize your objectivity and compromise your command relationship. Thus, you have chosen to deny such feelings exist, and push them down deep inside yourself. You believe that is the logical course of action."

"And… you do not?"

"Precisely." I answered matter-of-factly.

"That's not a very Vulcan attitude, Tuvok." You said as you rose to your feet and resumed your star gazing out the view port.

"And you, Captain, are not a Vulcan. As a human, it is against your nature to suppress and deny your emotions. You have neither the training nor the mental discipline. Such behavior is detrimental to your physical and emotional well-being. Furthermore, you of all people should know that hiding your feelings and behaving as if they do not exist does not make them any less real. I believe you are in love with the commander, and I believe he returns your affection."

Tears filled your eyes again, and for a moment, I was concerned that I was only serving to increase your pain. But to your credit, you composed yourself as you spoke. "I won't deny that, Tuvok. I've never lied to you, and I won't start now. I do love Chakotay. But it makes no difference."

"How so?"

A sigh of obvious frustration escaped your lips. "I can't allow myself to act on these feelings. I am the captain; he is my first officer. It is vital that we protect that relationship above all else. I have to get this crew home, and in order to do that – I must maintain my objectivity. Don't you see, Tuvok? If I allow myself to love him, I might let it interfere with my judgment. The ramifications of such a mistake could be irreversible."

I stared at you in disbelief, unable to accept that you could be so blind to your own words. "Obviously you are the one who does not see, Captain."

"I beg your pardon."

"Do you honestly believe that by denying such feelings exist, you shield yourself and your objectivity? You love the commander. You obviously have for some time. And yet, you continue to command this vessel objectively and wisely. Your personal affections for him have not clouded your judgment or impaired your ability to captain this ship – yet they have been present all along. I fail to see how admitting the existence of emotions that have been with you the entire time poses any kind of threat to your command abilities. On the contrary, denying those emotions is having a detrimental effect on both yourself and Chakotay. It would seem, to coin a phrase, that your plan has backfired."

I moved close to you, placing my hands on your shoulders in a gesture of my friendship and loyalty to the only captain I have ever had absolute faith in during all my years with Starfleet. "Go to him, Captain. Tell him of your devotion, of the connection you feel to him. The commander is a man of admirable qualities. He will share your burden; lessen your suffering. You only need to give him the opportunity to do so."

I reached up and wiped a falling tear from your cheek. An unfamiliar gesture for me, yet I did it without forethought. "I will leave you now to resume your solitary contemplation. I ask only that you ponder what I have told you. You are a human, Captain Janeway. The time has come for you to behave as one."

As I've maintained my duty station on the bridge today, I have observed you. I am uncertain as to whether or not my words of last night had any impact. You've behaved just as you have nearly every day since we arrived in this quadrant.

The bridge is quiet, the space ahead calm and unremarkable. Perhaps you feel my gaze on the back of your head, because you turn and look at me. I stare into your eyes intently, communicating with you without speech. Remember what I told you, Captain.

I am rewarded with a gentle smile, an expression I have seen on your face numerous times. This time it is different however. An understanding has transpired between you and I. No mind meld was necessary.

You lean closer to the commander, silently drawing his attention. When you speak, you do so in a volume so minimal, that I am certain no one hears you aside from Chakotay and myself.

"I was wondering, Chakotay. Are you free for dinner tonight?"

A genuine smile forms on his face as he looks at you. "That depends. Are you cooking, or are we using replicator rations?"

Your amusement is obvious as you lightly strike him in the arm in that playful manner you humans are so fond of. "Watch it, Commander. It's not a wise tactical decision to insult the captain's cooking."

"I would never dream of it."

"My quarters, 1900?" you tell him. I notice the pain is gone from your eyes as you lightly touch his arm. "Oh, and dress comfortably. We have a lot to talk about."

"Yes, Ma'am." The smile lingers on his face long after the words have left his mouth.

I watch the scene before me, and realize that I am once again experiencing emotion. This time it is a distinctly pleasant one. As you return your attention to the main viewer, I suppress my joy deep inside me. The time has come for you to embrace your emotions. But such behavior is unacceptable for me. I must maintain control. I am, indeed, a Vulcan.