TIMELESS INTERLUDE

Kathryn Janeway paced back and forth across the floor of her quarters. Soft classical piano music played in the background. Candles burned all around her. The table was set for two. She had hoped that this night would be unspoiled by concerns for the past, the present or the future, but here she was, pacing back and forth, looking at her PADD. It contained Harry Kim's flight plan for tomorrow's slipstream flight. The door chimed. "Come in." Chakotay entered. "Commander," she said, leaning her elbow on one of the dining chairs. "I hope you've got an appetite."

She saw a moment of surprise cross his face in the dim light. "Famished," he said, keeping his tone light. "But I assumed you'd called me here to talk about the slipstream flight."

"No reason to cancel our dinner plans," she replied, gesturing to the chair across from hers. Chakotay's eyes didn't wander to the candles in the room, but she knew that he noticed them.

"I programmed a dish my grandmother used to make back on Earth: vegetable biryani." She poured water for each of them.

"Sounds delicious. I didn't know you could cook," he said.

"Normally I draw the line at a pot of coffee," she replied dryly, "but tonight is a special occasion."

"Oh?" He looked up at her quizzically.

"Our last night in the Delta Quadrant. I'd say that's special enough." Kathryn took her seat across from him.

He felt his eyes go to the floor and replied, "You've made your decision."

"We launch tomorrow at 0800." Her voice was steel. He knew that tone. She would not change her mind. Chakotay's eyes remained on the floor. He raised them when she continued, "You and Harry will take the Delta Flyer. Voyager will be right behind you."

His eyes went to the floor again and he exhaled audibly. "The crew will be pleased," he said, busying himself with his napkin.

She knew that he didn't like it. She had known that he wouldn't. "You can give them the news yourself, after dessert," she said, in the same tone she had used to tell him of her decision. Her eyes remained hard; her tone unyielding, but she could never stay like that with him for too long. She put her elbows on the table, leaning towards him. "What about you, Chakotay?" she asked. "What do you think about my decision?"

He sighed again and picked up the PADD sitting next to him. "I've analyzed Harry's flight plan. The theory is sound, but there are just too many variables. If something goes wrong in that slipstream..."

"This could be our only chance to use the quantum drive," she interrupted him.

"True, but if you showed this data to any Starfleet engineer, they'd think we were out of our minds. We can find another way home," he reassured her. "We've waited this long."

"Long enough. We've waited long enough," she said, her voice hard. "I know it's a risk, probably our biggest one yet, but I'm willing to take it. Are you with me?"

"Always," Chakotay replied without hesitation. He realized that this had been a test. She had known that he wouldn't agree with her decision, and she was testing his loyalty. The only weakness she allowed herself was to bow her head at his response, and he knew he had passed the test.

She stood up and walked over to him, beginning, "Speaking of risks..." She placed her hand on his shoulder. He had never seen the dark, husky look in her eyes, and it made his heart pound in his chest. In that moment, he had absolutely no idea how she was going to continue the sentence, and it seemed like an eternity before she finished, "Are you ready to try some home cooking?"

"I'll alert sickbay," he quipped, allowing the moment to lighten.

Then he saw a genuine smile on her face and she caressed his cheek with her hand. She ordered the food from the replicator and brought it to the table, along with a bottle of red wine.

"Can I help with anything?" he asked.

"I can command a starship of 150 people. I think I can handle dinner for two," Kathryn replied with a smile.

He sat back, watching her carry the food across the room and then go back for the bottle of wine. He cherished these moments that they had together. Who knew what life would be like once they got back to the Alpha Quadrant. Kathryn served the biryani and poured the wine, then sat down across from him. She raised her glass and he raised his in return. "To the journey," she said softly.

"To the journey," he echoed. Their glasses clinked and they drank a sip of the red liquid. It was smooth and flavorful. He picked up his fork and took a bite of the dinner, purposefully acting cautious. Kathryn saw this and chuckled, watching him, waiting for his approval. He tasted the spices and the vegetables blended together with the texture of rice. He put on a show of thinking about the taste, and considering each moment. Finally, he swallowed.

"Well?" Kathryn asked.

He smiled. "It's delicious. Your grandmother was an excellent cook."

They laughed together and both dug into their meals in earnest. "What's the first thing you're going to do when we get home?" he asked.

"You know, I've been giving that some thought," she said. "And I think that the first thing I'm going to do after all the Starfleet rigamarole is over is take a bath."

He chuckled. "You and your bathtub."

"And then I'm going to see my dog," she added wistfully. "What about you, Chakotay?"

He wanted to keep the mood light, so he spoke about his favorite vegetarian restaurant and his plans to go there, but she wasn't fooled by his response. She let a moment of silence pass before she asked, "Chakotay, what is it?"

He sighed for the third time since he had sat down, and his eyes went to the floor again. He hadn't wanted to talk about this, not tonight. He didn't want to spoil her euphoria with concerns about his future. "Kathryn," he said gently, "you know that I might have to stand trial for what I did as a Maquis, along with the other Maquis members of our crew."

"I've thought about that, too, Chakotay," she said, her voice hardening again. "I won't allow it to happen."

"You may not have much choice."

"If Starfleet wants to prosecute you, they'll have to prosecute me first," she said. "For four years, you've shown your loyalty. I owe you my life half a dozen times, at least. So does everyone else on this crew. Surely, that will count for more than your past life as a renegade."

He looked at her closely and leaned forward, putting down his fork. "We've been out here a long time, Kathryn," he said, "with no one to answer to. We've been able to live by our own rules and to act in the way we believed was right. But Starfleet isn't like that. They have rules, regulations, bureaucracy. They have to abide by them, and if they choose to make an example of us, you won't be able to stop them."

"I'll sure as hell try," she replied. She sat looking at him across the table. This man had become her trusted companion, advisor and closest friend. She would become a criminal herself before she would see Chakotay put behind bars. A sudden thought occurred to her. "Chakotay, do you want to go home?" she asked.

He wanted to know what had made her ask it, but instead, he answered quietly, "Most of my friends are dead. I might be considered a criminal myself. But yes, I do. I'd rather have the chance of seeing friends and family again than spend the rest of my life in the Delta Quadrant. I'm willing to account to Starfleet for what I've done." His voice became earnest and sure. "Kathryn, you've put everything on the line for this crew. All you've ever wanted was to get them home. I would do anything to help you succeed in that." He saw tears glistening in her eyes and he reached across the table to squeeze her hand.

"Thank you," she said softly. He did not reply, but withdrew his hand and continued eating, allowing her to regain her composure.

"A lot of things will be different when we get back," he said, bringing the light optimism back into his tone.

"Oh, who knows what our lives will be like," she replied.

"Maybe I'll even get my own ship!"

She smiled. "I wouldn't be surprised at all, Commander."

"In fact," he continued, "we'll all probably have different assignments. We won't be serving together anymore."

"I know," she replied. "Breaking up the family. That will be hard."

"Yes," Chakotay agreed. "But it might have a positive side, too." He knew he was treading in dangerous territory. He hadn't planned to discuss this subject tonight, or ever. But something about the way she had tested him earlier, combined with the wine and the candle light made him feel bold.

She narrowed her eyes and looked at him, knowing exactly where this was going. "What positive side, Commander?" she asked.

He had started down the path; he couldn't turn back now. "I know you've always felt that you couldn't get involved with anyone who served under you. That it would compromise your position as Captain. If we're not all serving together on the same ship anymore, it opens up other... possibilities." He cleared his throat and added hastily, "For you. Other possibilities for you."

There was an amused light dancing in her eyes. "For me, yes," she replied. "And possibly for certain other people as well?" she said. "I don't recall you getting involved with anyone serving under your command for the past four years either."

"There hasn't been much time," he said quietly, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. He wanted to say: Of course not. The only woman I wanted was the one I could never have. But he didn't.

"No," she agreed. "Between Borg attacks, Species 8472, temporal anomalies, away missions... how can anyone have time for a relationship in the Delta Quadrant?"

He took a bite of his meal, to see if she would change the subject. She said nothing, sipping her wine. "And in the Alpha Quadrant?" he asked.

She looked at him intently; her expression suddenly serious, her eyes soft and dark. He could feel his heart beating in his chest. He knew that he was taking an incredible risk. He felt as if he could hear her heart pounding as well, although he realized that it was just the sound of his heartbeat in his ears. "In the Alpha Quadrant, things could be different," she said.

His heart began to race faster and he had to take a deep breath to steady his voice. "How so?" he asked, forcing himself to keep his composure.

"Well," she started, "you said yourself that we wouldn't all be serving on the same ship. That changes everything."

"You wouldn't have to be the Captain all the time," he said. She nodded, almost imperceptibly. They sat in silence for a moment. The music in the background at that moment was a gentle waltz. Liszt, he thought, perhaps.

He got up from the table and offered her his hand. "Care to dance, Captain?" he asked. He expected her to refuse, but she didn't. He felt her hand slip comfortably into his and she stood to join him. With a gentle tug, he pulled her body close to his, and firmly wrapped one arm around her waist, keeping her other hand in his. He felt her hand encircle his shoulder. "First you cook, and now you're dancing. This must be a special occasion," he quipped, trying to keep the mood light.

Kathryn looked up into the eyes of this man whom she had come to trust with her life, her thoughts, and her soul. Her expression became serious. "I told you once that I couldn't imagine a day without you," she said.

"I remember," he replied.

"It's true," she said. "No matter what happens when we get back to the Alpha Quadrant, it will still be true."

She swayed in his arms and let her head come to rest on his chest. She could hear his heart beat, strong and steady. She closed her eyes, enjoying the moment's respite. This one night belonged only to them, only to her. This was the commemoration of their journey. This was the moment they had fought so long to reach, and now they had reached it. Finally, they had deserved this moment's respite; this moment together.

Chakotay let his lips gently touch her hair, inhaling the soft smell of her. He thought of her words earlier: Long enough. We've waited long enough. But he was not thinking of these words in relation to Voyager's getting home. "Kathryn," he said softly, "Kathryn, I know we can't speak of it now, not here, not within these walls, not until this is all behind us, but..." He found he could not finish the sentence.

There were so many things he wanted to say, but he could not say them. Not yet. He did not realize that he had stopped dancing until she stopped, pulling away from him. Her hands still held his arms, and his hands were on her elbows. She was looking deep into his eyes, and he knew that he did not need to say anything. She already understood everything he was thinking, just as he had understood her long ago. Then he was pulling her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her, one hand in her hair. He was lowering his mouth down to hers. He wasn't thinking of it. He hadn't planned this. She was not resisting. He pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that contained a passion that had been slowly building in him for months, for years... perhaps since the first time he had seen her. He did not know anymore. One kiss. And then he gently let her go. She stepped away from him, losing all physical contact between them, but he felt as if he still held her in his arms. He stood there, frozen in time, never wanting the moment to end, and also wanting it to simply be tomorrow. The end of their journey, and the beginning.

Kathryn felt strangely calm, as if she had known this would be the way that the night would conclude, and wanted nothing else. She felt that this was right, that this was the way things always had had to end, and to begin. The corners of her lips turned up in a little smile. "We have a long day ahead of us," she said softly. "I think we should both get some rest."

Chakotay nodded. "Goodnight, Kathryn," he said tenderly. She had rarely heard him use such a gentle, soft tone.

"Goodnight, Chakotay," she replied, her voice almost a whisper. He did not try to touch her again or say anything else. He simply turned and exited her quarters. It was not until she was cleaning up the dinner dishes that she realized he had left his PADD sitting on the table.

...

Chakotay glanced over at the woman sitting next to him on the bridge. He tried not to think of their dinner two nights before. We've waited long enough, he heard in his mind, and he was no longer certain if he was hearing her voice or his. Then he thought, We've waited this long... And he knew it was his own voice. They would not speak of the dinner, or of what had passed between them. Not now, perhaps not ever. And if they never returned to the Alpha Quadrant? Would he spend the rest of his life waiting for a woman who would not allow herself the luxury of a relationship? As if it was a luxury. Just a little longer, he thought. Just wait a little longer.