Title: Tuvix Too
Series: Star Trek: Voyager
Author: Singing Violin
Rating: K+
Keywords: Janeway/Chakotay friendship, Janeway/Tuvok friendship
Summary: An interlude between "Tuvix" and "Resolutions"
Disclaimer: TPTB own them, but they didn't do what I wanted with them, so I'm borrowing them for a bit. I'll give them back when I'm done.
Feedback: Yes please.
Archiving: Anywhere.

Images race unbidden through my mind. Kes, in my arms, crying for the loss of Neelix. Tuvok, looking slightly discomfited at rematerializing in Sickbay. Neelix, grabbing hold of Kes as if to never let her go. Tuvix, smiling as he cooks me dinner…

…a dinner which just ended up all over my floor.

My hand goes to my mouth, and for a moment, I think I may be sick again. I raise my eyes to discover my first officer, looking as concerned as ever, and it is enough distraction to startle me out of my reverie.

His eyes question me even as I question myself. The same thought repeats incessantly in my mind …what have I done?

She was crying…

I don't realize I've said that out loud until Chakotay answers, "who?"

"Kes," I answer, "she…I couldn't let her cry…I had to fix it…"

I haven't been this incoherent since my failed date with Will Riker. And to make it worse, I am scaring Chakotay. He looks positively stricken. But he does not speak again; he is waiting for me to continue.

Get a hold of yourself, Kathryn. I take a deep breath, only now realizing what I am trying to say…to him, and to myself.

"I killed a man to pacify an Ocampan child," I utter, disgusted with myself all over again. "There is no other excuse."

Suddenly, I know what I must do.

"Chakotay, I'm handing over command of Voyager to you. I can't be trusted to…"

He interrupts me.

Chakotay:

It takes me a moment to realize that she has finally spoken, as it is barely a murmur from her lips. It is another moment before I parse the almost inaudible sound.

"She was crying," Kathryn had said.

"Who?" I prompt, hoping to get her to talk this out.

"Kes," she answers before muttering nearly incoherently about wanting to make her stop. Before I can think of a reply, I see my captain visibly attempt to compose herself before continuing, and my admiration for her is renewed.

But the words that she utters are hardly comforting. Before I know it, she is attempting to resign, leaving me in command of the ship…

A year ago, I would have jumped at the opportunity, but now, I know what a disaster that would be.

"No," I interrupt her. "I won't accept." I know I am risking brig time for insubordination, but she isn't acting very captainlike right now, and it's very possible she'll overlook my misbehavior.

She doesn't.

I find myself face to face with the glare she gives evil aliens before she destroys them.

I gulp.

Kathryn:

My first officer has just interrupted and disobeyed me. I won't tolerate it. I stand even as he crouches, deliberately positioning myself to loom over him.

"Then I shall relieve you of duty first, Commander," I hiss, suddenly extremely angry, "and then hand the ship over to Tuvok."

He purses his lips for a moment, contemplating something. I expect him to argue with me, to rise from the floor and shake me, something…

Instead, he just nods and smiles.

Chakotay:

I contemplate whether to let her know that Tuvok is as concerned as I, that it is he who has sent me here. However, that would betray his confidence and potentially undermine our operation. I opt instead to point out the obvious.

"He won't accept your resignation either, Captain," I state firmly, putting extra emphasis on her title, as if to say, "you're not ridding yourself of your responsibilities that easily."

Her glare intensifies, perhaps because she knows what I say is true.

"There's got to be someone aboard this ship…" she starts, but falters, her voice trailing into oblivion. She collapses back onto the couch, spent, her head falling into her hands, and for a moment, I think she will cry.

She looks back up at me, and indeed, her eyes are sparkling…but it is with a look I have come to cherish as a rare gem from our steely captain. It is soft, warm, and inviting, and the voice she raises is textured to match.

"You're right, of course," she concedes.

Then she begins to talk…to really talk. I can only listen to the stream-of-consciousness diatribe and wait. As she speaks, I marvel again at her capacity for self-healing. Just a few minutes ago, she was a wreck, and now, she is almost back to the captain I have learned to follow without question. It is just a matter of time before she will regain her composure completely, leaving me out of her thought processes…so I treasure this moment while it lasts.