Author's Note: This story was written for elem for the 2012 VAMB Secret Summer. The title was inspired by the Celine Dion song "A New Day Has Come." Many thanks to Mizvoy for the editing.

A NEW DAY

By KJaneway115

Cold, clear water lapped at the rocks protruding from the lake. Splash, splash, splash, the waves sounded in a consistent rhythm. Sunlight glistened on the rippling blue surface that stretched to the opposite shore, and a breeze rustled through the trees. A loon flew overhead, warbling its distinctive call.

It's amazing that there's someplace in the universe that doesn't change, thought Kathryn Janeway as she stood on the dock of her family's Lake George home, the only sounds around her coming from the water and the wind. The cabin had been in her family for four generations, and it was the most consistent place in Kathryn's life; even after she had moved out of the Indiana farmhouse, she continued to come to Lake George whenever she needed to relax, recharge or reflect. At the moment, she desperately needed all three.

Five months after Voyager's sudden return to the Alpha Quadrant, the extensive debriefings had ended. For five months, she had spent nearly every day in meetings with one admiral or another, dealing with Starfleet security, or reassuring a member of her crew. After the process had finally ended, she had spent a couple weeks in Indiana with her mother, and Phoebe and her family had come from Levinius V to visit. She cherished the time with family after the years of separation, but the truth was, she needed to be alone. For five months, she'd done nothing but fight. She needed time to reflect on what had happened, to evaluate her life, and to figure out who she was without her crew, without Voyager and without the mission that had consumed her for seven years.

As soon as she arrived at the lake house, she had run down to the shore to dip her fingers in the lake. "Hello," she'd said softly, feeling a smile come to her lips, unbidden. Her holodeck recreation of the place had been accurate to the last detail, but no simulation could capture the real feeling of the place, the smell of the air or the softness of the water on her fingers. Her eyes welled with inexplicable tears as she stood on the dock, gazing at the water that had welcomed her year after year. "It's good to see you," she said, and trudged back up to the house to unpack.

Edward's great grandparents, Dorothy and John, had acquired the property in 2219 and had built a modest cabin with minimal technology for its day. When Kathryn was a child, her grandparents had decided to move to the lake, and they had torn down the cabin to build a small home that would be comfortable year round. Later on, Edward Janeway had had a replicator installed, although Gretchen had insisted on keeping the stove and had prevented her husband from making too many technological upgrades. The property had an outdoor fire pit as well as an old-fashioned, wood burning sauna. Now that no one lived in the home, one of the neighbors from down the road looked after it.

Kathryn found the house in top condition, albeit smelling a little musty, and she opened the windows to let in the fresh air. The house contained a single bedroom, a bathroom, a living room and a kitchen with a dining area. Off the kitchen was a screened-in porch, and at the back of the house, a large deck faced the lake. Downstairs, an unfinished basement provided additional sleeping quarters for guests. Edward had created a makeshift bedroom there for his daughters when they were young, and now Phoebe used it for her boys.

Kathryn unpacked her small duffle bag, placing clothes into the chest of drawers in the bedroom and changing out of her traveling outfit into a light, comfortable sundress. She had noticed on her way in that the gardens needed a great deal of work, and she needed something to get her mind off of everything that had happened. She would start there.

...

The sun beat down on the Arizona desert and sweat poured down the face of a tall, dark-haired man who stood in the sand, panting. He ran the back of his arm across his forehead, attempting to wipe off some of the moisture before it dripped into his eyes. He bent over slightly, hands on his knees, catching his breath, and watched the perspiration drip into the dry, golden sand. He wore shorts - nothing else - and his bronze body glistened in the sunlight. After a moment, he turned back in the direction from which he had come and resumed his run.

When he returned to the small cabin where he was staying, Chakotay was breathing hard, physically exhausted from running in the heat, but mentally refreshed. The self-imposed solitude was exactly what he needed after the events of the past few months - or, more to the point, after the events of the past seven years. In the Delta Quadrant, he had rarely had a moment alone, and even when he had, his mind had been occupied with thoughts of his crew, his captain or their mission. He had seen his sister and his cousin briefly, but as soon as the debriefings had officially concluded, he had packed his things and rented a small, rustic cabin in the Arizona desert. He spent his days meditating, making sand paintings and going for long runs in the hot sun. Finally, he had time to reflect on the past seven years.

For the first few days, he had spent a great deal of time contemplating his short-lived relationship with Seven of Nine. They had been home less than a week when she had come to his quarters and, without preamble, told him that it no longer made sense for them to continue their romantic liaison. "In the Delta Quadrant, my options for a mate were limited, and you were clearly the superior choice," she had said. "But now that we have returned to Earth, there are hundreds of candidates for me to evaluate. It would not be wise for me to choose you as a mate without exploring other options." Although he had fought to keep them together on their return to the Alpha Quadrant, Chakotay had been surprised to discover that her words didn't hurt him, and even more surprised that when she left the room, he was flooded with relief. They had agreed to remain friends and left it at that.

Upon reflection, he realized that his relationship with Seven had been as much an experiment for him as it had been for her. She was beautiful, certainly, and she had a quirky sort of charm. Her straightforward honesty was refreshing, her interest in him flattering. He had embarked upon the relationship more out of curiosity than out of genuine interest. Could he sustain a relationship with someone whose company he enjoyed, and who he found attractive, but about whom he didn't feel passionately? Apparently in one timeline, he could, but he found himself feeling grateful that that timeline was not his.

Behind the cabin was a small, old-fashioned bathroom, with a toilet, a sink and a shower which only ran cold water. Chakotay stripped out of his shorts and turned on the water, letting the cold liquid wash the sweat off his body. He turned, letting the cool droplets run through his hair and down the back of his neck, then reached for the soap and worked up a nice lather, cleaning away the dust and sand from the desert.

After his shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and cooked himself a simple meal of roasted vegetables and quinoa. As he ate, feeling the food refuel his body, he prepared himself for an evening of meditation and reflection. He had not been on a vision quest since his self-imposed solitude had begun, but tonight, finally, he felt ready.

...

"Now," said Admiral Whatley, "we move on to the question of the Maquis."

Janeway held up a hand. "Admiral, I object to this classification. My crew has been one crew, a Starfleet crew, for seven years. Please refer to them as former Maquis, if you must set them apart at all."

Whatley crossed his arms over his chest and said sternly, "Captain Janeway, you know very well that we must set them apart."

"I haven't set them apart since the day that Commander Chakotay put on a Starfleet uniform."

Nechayev tried to smooth over the situation. "We understand that your experience with these... former Maquis has been unique. However, you must also understand our perspective; we are concerned about the safety of the Federation."

"No member of my crew is a threat to Federation safety. Each and every one of their service records reflects this. They have been loyal to Starfleet for the last seven years."

"But they are not Starfleet officers," Ross argued. "Those who were Starfleet officers, like Commander Chakotay, face charges of treason. If your original mission had succeeded, he would be in prison and we wouldn't be having this conversation right now." He must have seen something dangerous in her eyes, because Ross paused and softened his tone as he continued, "Captain, I understand that you did what you had to do out there. You were seventy thousand light years from the Federation. You couldn't very well throw the Maquis in your brig for the next seventy years. You needed their assistance and you couldn't afford to lose valuable personnel, but now that you have returned to the Federation, we can't simply disregard our laws because you couldn't afford to abide by them in the Delta Quadrant."

"But you're not in the Delta Quadrant anymore," added Admiral Toddman, "and the Maquis... excuse me, former Maquis... have to be held accountable for their crimes."

Janeway took a deep breath. "I know that they committed crimes against the Federation a long time ago, but every one of them made valuable contributions on Voyager. Haven't they proven their commitment to Starfleet? I can't count the number of times that Commander Chakotay saved my life and our ship. The same goes for B'Elanna Torres, Tom Paris and every other former Maquis aboard Voyager."

"Well, Tom Paris' is a slightly different issue," Ross admitted, "since he already served a sentence for his crimes and would have been released by now."

"How is that different from the other former Maquis?" Janeway asked. "Haven't they all 'served their sentences,' so to speak? Isn't seven years of exile in the Delta Quadrant enough of a sentence for anyone?"

"The problem is," said Whatley, "that most of the Maquis who were imprisoned during the war are still in prison. How will it appear if your crew, which contains the largest group of former Maquis known to Starfleet, gets off without so much as a day in jail while their former colleagues are serving sentences for another five, ten, or even twenty years?"

"Yes. And how do you know your crew won't revert to old loyalties?" Admiral Henry asked. "In the Delta Quadrant, they didn't have much of a choice, but here, they could use their freedom to break their old friends out of prison. We are well aware that Commander Chakotay received a letter from an old friend in the Maquis while he was on board your ship."

Janeway's eyes flashed in anger. "Yes," she answered bitterly, "a letter that informed him that most of his friends were dead." She took a deep breath, knowing she needed to keep her anger at bay if she was going to make any headway in this discussion. "Chakotay is one of the most loyal, honest people I have ever known. I know that, in your view, he betrayed Starfleet, but he believed he was doing the right thing."

"Be careful what you say next, Captain," Nechayev warned.

She put up her hand in time to stop the Admiral from accusing her of being a traitor herself. "My point is that Commander Chakotay is a man of character, and he has proven this countless times. He got Voyager out of chaotic space, saved us from a species that put us all into a dream state... He talked Neelix out of committing suicide once; I could go on."

"Captain," said Nechayev, "no one doubts that Commander Chakotay and the rest of the former Maquis are good people, but according to Federation law they are criminals."

"My crew was not present during the war," the Captain replied. "And the fact remains that they have spent seven years serving Starfleet with loyalty and dignity. I'm not asking you to pretend that they were never members of the Maquis. I'm asking you to pardon their crimes and grant them their field commissions in light of their service."

"There are many in the Federation who would not approve of this," Ross said.

"You put us in a difficult position, Captain Janeway," agreed Nechayev. "Politically, it is very difficult for us to let this go, as you suggest."

Janeway bristled. "I refuse to allow my crew to be used as a pawn in your political posturing."

"It isn't posturing, Captain," Whatley said firmly. "It's a very real issue. We can't go around pardoning traitors and terrorists."

"They are not traitors and terrorists." Kathryn felt like she was butting her head against metallic hull plating. Then she paused, a new thought creeping into her mind. If they could play politics, perhaps so could she. She changed her tone as she continued, putting on her best poker face. "Admirals, I understand how concerned you are about the publicity this could generate if it appears that Starfleet is soft on terrorists. But think about the flip side. These debriefings have not even concluded and I'm already being hailed as 'the Captain who crippled the Borg.' I guarantee that the minute this process ends, I am going to be besieged by reporters, and so is the rest of my crew. How is it going to look if a third of the crew that 'crippled the Borg' is sentenced to prison?"

She saw glances exchanged across and down the table. Henry was the one who answered her coldly. "Is that a threat, Captain?"

"Not at all, Admiral," she replied, keeping her voice smooth. "I'm merely suggesting... another point of view."

"The real issue here is whether or not we abide by the rule of law," said Nechayev.

"But how does the law apply?" Janeway asked. "There's no precedent for this sort of situation. What's at stake here is the value of seven years of honorable service. Does that mean anything to any of you? Because I know it means a hell of a lot to me." When no one answered, Kathryn continued. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she forced her features to remain calm as she laid her hands flat on the table and spoke in a clear tone. "Commander Chakotay and his crew served me faithfully for seven years. They served Starfleet with honor. And if their service isn't worth anything to you, then I guess mine isn't either. If you plan to put a third of my crew in prison after they laid their lives on the line countless times in order to protect our principles, I will have no choice but to resign my commission in protest. Think about the politics of that."

The room was silent. The admirals stared at her. Clearly, they had not expected this. "Perhaps we can agree on a compromise?" Paris suggested. Reluctantly, the other admirals nodded.

The compromise at which they had arrived had not been to Janeway's satisfaction, and the thought of it made her grimace as a stream of paint dripped over the side of her bucket. She mopped the errant paint with a cloth and picked up her brush again. The deck railings had desperately needed painting.

The former Maquis had not been thrown into prison, and the formal charges against them had been dropped, but they had not been granted their commissions or been recognized as Starfleet officers. Janeway gritted her teeth and painted more fervently. Her crew had sacrificed so much to uphold Starfleet principles, yet in exchange, Starfleet wouldn't do so much as recognize their service. Kathryn had done everything she could to make Starfleet recognize her entire crew, but in the end, she had failed. She had always believed that she could manage anything as captain of a starship if she only worked hard enough and cultivated the trust of her crew. She had beaten impossible odds in the Delta Quadrant and brought them home after only seven years. But now, the greatest victory she had wanted to win for them - their recognition - remained just beyond her grasp, and it seemed that no matter how hard she worked, she could do nothing to reach it.

She clenched her jaw in frustration and moved her paint bucket over a few feet. Standing to stretch her legs, she placed her hands on her aching back and let the breeze blow her hair out of her face. She took a deep breath, allowing the the sweet, fresh air to fill her lungs, and closed her eyes. This place was filled with memories of her childhood, her father in particular. Edward Janeway had not had much time away from work when his girls were growing up, but every summer, he had taken a few days off to spend time with them at the lake.

"Smooth, Goldenbird. You have to put just the right amount of paint on the brush. Not too much, not too little."

"Like this, Daddy?" Kathryn held up her paintbrush after dipping it in the bucket and wiping off the excess paint.

"Just like that," Edward replied with a smile. "Here, you do this section. I'll start at the other end."

"Okay." Eleven-year-old Kathryn diligently went to work painting the deck railing. After a moment, she raised her head from her task. "Daddy, why don't we use redi-color like everyone else?"

Edward chuckled. "Do you know that I once asked my dad that very same question?"

Kathryn stopped painting and put her brush down on the top of the can. "Really? What did he say?"

"He told me that a quick and easy answer might seem like the right one sometimes, but you can never underestimate the value of hard work and dedication. He told me that even though I'd rather be playing with my cousins than painting the fence, that later I'd have something to be proud of and they wouldn't."

"Did you?" Kathryn asked, picking her brush up again.

"Well, I think I did still wish I'd spent the afternoon playing with my cousins," he replied with a chuckle, "but every year from then on when we came back to the lake, I saw this railing and looked at my dad and said, 'remember when we painted that together?'"

Kathryn grinned. "Like you and me, right? We'll have a memory like that, too."

"Of course we will, Goldenbird. Whenever you look at this railing, you'll remember this day, and I'll be with you."

As the memory faded, Kathryn realized there were tears pouring down her cheeks. I'll be with you, her father had said. I'll be with you. But he wasn't, and he hadn't been for such a long time. She put her paintbrush down and sat back against the house, her arms resting on her knees, her head in her hands, and for the first time in a long time, she let herself cry. Her body shook with sobs as she released a slew of long pent-up emotions. I miss you, Daddy, she thought. I miss you so much.

And she let the tears flow: tears for her father, tears for her crew, tears for all the people she'd lost along the way. Tears for her guilt over the Maquis' fate and for Admiral Janeway, who had given everything to save them, tears for the families of the crew members who had not made it home. She cried for the time she'd lost - time to have a family and share her life with someone, years she'd missed with her mother and nephews. She cried harder thinking of her crew and how proud she was of them - B'Elanna, Tom, Harry, Seven. She cried for Chakotay, for all that had been taken from him, all that he had sacrificed and all that he had given her.

When her tears finally dried up, the sun was beginning to set, and she cleaned her brush and put the paint away, determined to complete the job the next day. She was exhausted, with barely enough energy to fix herself a cup of tea and a piece of toast. She sat outside on the half-painted deck, sipping her tea, her mind blank. Drinking the warm, comforting liquid, she watched the sky through the tree tops as it turned from blue to pink to purple until she drifted off to sleep in her chair.

...

"I'll get it, Captain," Chakotay offered as Janeway stood from the table to retrieve their dinner from the replicator.

"No, no," she said, waving him off with her hand. "You've been through enough in the past few days, roaming the ship as a disembodied spirit and all." She lifted the large casserole dish out of the replicator and brought it to the table. "Cooking has never been my strong suit, but I can usually make a decent lasagna. I modified the recipe to make it vegetarian." She placed the casserole in the center of the table and dished them each a large piece.

"It looks delicious, Captain. I'm sure your cooking is fine." Chakotay shifted uncomfortably in his chair, the formality of rank feeling forced in the intimate setting of a dinner in her quarters. She'd invited him for a meal after he'd been released from sickbay, his consciousness finally reintegrated with his body.

"I'd wait till you taste it to pass judgment, Commander."

Chakotay took a bite of the lasagna and immediately felt his eyes begin to water as he forced the morsel down his throat. The spices seemed to burn the inside of his mouth, but he tried to keep his expression neutral as he took a gulp of water. "It's very... spicy," he rasped, his tongue on fire.

Janeway watched him carefully and covered her mouth with her hand, trying to hide her smile. She could tell that her first officer was desperately trying to be polite, but as she took a bite of the lasagna herself, she understood why his face had turned beet red. "This is awful!" she spluttered. "Don't eat another bite, Commander." She took the casserole back over to the replicator and placed it down, putting her hands on her hips. "Why do you hate me?" she asked it in despair. Then she heard laughter from behind her and turned around, facing down her first officer with a mock glare. "What?"

"The great Starfleet captain," he managed through his laughter, "able to vanquish alien attacks, negotiate the hell out of any deal, and the greatest pool shark I've ever seen... can't replicate a lasagna."

She tried to fake sternness but soon dissolved into fits of laughter herself. "I'll have you know, Commander," she said, wagging a finger at him, "that that replicator is going to receive just punishment for its transgressions." Then she threw up her hands in defeat. "However, I think it's peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner tonight."

"It's a good thing we didn't open the wine. I don't think it would go very well with peanut butter," he quipped. Then he stood from the table, an idea dawning on him. "But I have something else that might. Wait here, Captain."

"I'll get out the ingredients for dinner," she said, her eyes sparkling. Hurriedly, Chakotay made his way to his secret stash in the cargo bay, making sure no one saw him as he grabbed a bottle and headed back to the Captain's quarters. By the time he returned, their plates were each filled with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and he handed her the bottle he had retrieved. "Antarian cider?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Where did you get this?"

He grinned. "Maquis secrets, Captain."

She shook her head as she took out two glasses and poured them each some cider. "One of these days I'll have to find out all of those Maquis secrets of yours, Commander."

"That might take you a very long time, Captain." They shared a laugh, and as they ate their sandwiches, Chakotay felt glad that their dinner had been ruined. The laughter had broken the tension between them, and he was able to witness the rarity of his captain relaxed, happy and just being herself. They talked long into the night and finished off the bottle of cider around 0200.

When Chakotay finally returned to his own quarters, he lay awake for a long time, unable to get the image of Kathryn Janeway's smile out of his mind. When he closed his eyes, he saw her concerned face leaning over him as he awoke in sickbay and he felt her warm hands on his bare chest. He remembered the glance she had given him as she had moved away, the small admission of what his incapacity had cost her. He thought of how he would feel if it had been her lying in sickbay instead of him, and his chest constricted at the thought. He suddenly realized that he would do anything to protect her, to make her smile the way she had tonight, to make her eyes sparkle with laughter as they had when she'd watched his reaction to the lasagna. Whatever it took, he would see Kathryn Janeway happy. Whatever he had to give up, he would remain by her side, make sure her needs were met, help her reach her goals and lighten her burden. For the first time in many years, Chakotay fell asleep that night feeling a sense of peace.

Chakotay sighed, wondering what had made him remember that particular night. The desert air was still as he sat in a rocking chair on the cabin's small front porch, watching the stars appear in the night sky. He had never fully articulated it to himself before, but that had been the night he had first realized the depth of his feelings for Kathryn. Did I really love her as early as that? But even as he asked himself the question, he knew the answer was yes. As the years had gone on, the two of them had settled into a comfortable friendship defined by the parameters of command, and his feelings had dampened. Or so he had thought.

When Voyager had shattered into several timeframes during the final year of their journey, and he had found himself faced with the Kathryn Janeway he had met seven years earlier, he'd realized that much as he'd buried his feelings over the years, they still ran strong. It had been after their dinner that night, and two bottles of Antarian cider later - ironically, the second time they had shared the drink from his secret stash - that he had decided to put aside his feelings forever and force himself to move on. It was time to take his own advice, he thought, and stop wasting the present for a future that might never happen. Seven had been willing and interested and the perfect candidate for his new outlook on life, but then they got home, and everything changed.

He paused in his thought, suddenly sitting up straight. Everything had changed, except one thing. Suddenly smiling, Chakotay went inside, packed his duffel bag and began the two mile walk to the nearest transport station. The desert air was cool at night, and he could hear the scurrying of creatures venturing out of their burrows nearby. The lonely howl of the coyote echoed over the sand as he walked. His spirit guide had told him two days before that his journey homeward remained incomplete, and he finally understood what she meant.

...

The gravel path crunched beneath her shoes as she ran, trying to blow off some steam. After five days alone at the lake house, Kathryn had begun to feel restless. She had painted the deck railing, weeded the gardens and cleaned the house thoroughly, and she still had three more weeks of leave.

She picked up the pace of her jog. Not only frustration and guilt, but loneliness plagued her. She'd been surprised to find herself thinking about Mark the previous evening, surprised to realize how much she missed him. No, that wasn't it exactly. She didn't miss Mark; she missed what they'd had together - the easy companionship, the deep friendship, the physical attraction. It had been a long time since she'd acknowledged her desire for a serious relationship, but as she went for walks through the woods and ate simple meals on the deck, she found herself wishing she had someone with whom to share these activities. This is the life you chose, she reminded herself sternly. Don't complain about it now.

By the time she arrived back at the house, she was drenched in sweat, so she peeled off her shorts and tank and slipped into a bathing suit. "Ah," she sighed contentedly as she waded into the cool lake and submerged her body completely. The water enveloped her, washing the sweat from her body, and she swam out into the bay. After several strokes, she turned around to head back towards the house, enjoying the feeling of the soft water gliding through her hair and over her body. Her face was still warm from her run and she ducked under again, the lake's coolness soothing her.

As she came up for air, she thought she heard a deep male voice call, "Hello," but she was back under water before she could be sure. She swam a couple more strokes, wondering which of the neighbors would be visiting her unannounced, and planted her feet on the sandy ground. As she wiped the water from her eyes and looked up, she froze. Standing on the grass a few meters from the beach was her former first officer, dressed in white shorts and a light blue, button down, short-sleeved shirt. He had a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, and his skin was darker than she had ever seen it. His eyes sparkled in the sunlight, and he was smiling. "Chakotay!" she exclaimed, hastily emerging from the lake and grabbing a towel to wrap around herself. "How did you get here?"

"I walked," he replied, still grinning from ear to ear.

"From the transport station?" she spluttered. "But that's over three miles away."

He shrugged. "It's a nice day."

She noticed that he was staring unabashedly at her, and she pulled the towel tighter around her body. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you. I can leave if you'd rather be alone."

"No, no. Just give me a minute to throw some clothes on."

He looked at her a moment longer, his gaze seeming to bore right through her, and she averted her eyes, suddenly feeling shy. He opened his mouth as if to say something but then thought better of it, simply replying, "Okay."

"Make yourself at home," she said, gesturing to the house. "I'll be up in a minute."

When she went inside, clad in a simple, yellow sundress, Chakotay had put down his bag and was studying a painting of the lake that hung on the wall. "That's one of Pheobe's," she said.

He turned around to reply but stopped when he saw her. "You look beautiful, Kathryn." Unprepared for the compliment and the softness in his voice, Janeway balked, unsure how to respond. Seeing her discomfort, Chakotay turned back to the painting. "It's really good. She captures the movement of the water perfectly."

"Can I get you anything? You must be starving."

He grinned. "How about a peanut butter sandwich? We can take them down by the lake."

She thought she saw a glint in his eyes and wondered if he was purposefully referring to their first dinner together. "I don't think I have any Antarian cider," she said carefully.

He winked at her. "I could beam to my storage locker and get some. I think there might be one more bottle."

She laughed. "I think we'll be fine without it. Peanut butter sandwiches are good with lemonade, too." She reached into the cupboard for the peanut butter. "This is probably the safest bet, anyway. My cooking skills haven't improved much over the years."

"That's all right," he said, that glimmer in his eye again. "I'll make dinner."

"I don't recall inviting you to stay for dinner."

He gave her an enigmatic smile and didn't respond, taking the tray of peanut butter, bread and jam from her hands. She poured them each a glass of lemonade, and he held the door open for her as they walked onto the deck, down the stairs and to a picnic table that sat a couple meters from the lake. As they made their sandwiches, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He looked wonderful - more relaxed and happy than she had seen him in a long time. Seven must be doing wonders for him, she thought ruefully. "How have you been?" she asked. "I've barely seen you since..."

"Since we arrived in the Alpha Quadrant?"

She picked up on the accusation in his tone and sighed. "I'm sorry, Chakotay. The debriefings were a nightmare. I was in meetings for fourteen hours a day, and when I wasn't talking to some admiral, I was giving advice about where to look for a job or who to contact about finding a residence or how to find someone's relatives." She omitted the fact that she had purposefully avoided him so she wouldn't have to confront him on the subject of his relationship with her protege.

"I was doing plenty of that myself," he said sympathetically, "but I had hoped to spend a little more time with you."

"I'm sorry about that. But you're here now."

"Yes." He smiled serenely and took a sip of his lemonade. "What have you been doing since the debriefings ended?"

"I spent two weeks in Indiana with my mother. Phoebe and her family came from Levinius V to visit. Then I came here." She paused. "Come to think of it, how did you find me? No one at Starfleet knew I was coming here."

"I know. Believe me, I spoke to just about everyone there who might know where you were. Admiral Paris finally suggested that I just ask your mother."

"You spoke to my mother?"

"I met her at the welcome home party; it's not like we were complete strangers. We had a nice chat." Kathryn was mortified. What could Chakotay and her mother possibly have talked about? "Don't worry," he assured her, "she didn't share any embarrassing stories. She just told me where to find you."

Janeway sighed. It was probably one of her mother's misguided efforts to prod her into a romantic liaison. Gretchen and Phoebe had both gone on and on about how handsome, kind, intelligent and attentive Chakotay was after they'd met him at Voyager's welcome home party, and they wouldn't listen to a word Kathryn had said about his attachment to Seven of Nine. "You look well, Chakotay," she said, trying to change the subject. "What have you been doing with yourself?"

"I rented a cabin in the Arizona desert. I needed to get away from everything for a while, figure out what I'm doing next."

Kathryn put her chin in her hand and looked away from him. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"That I couldn't get Starfleet to grant you your commission. I know it would have made everything a lot easier."

"Maybe," he said. "Maybe not."

She looked up at him, shocked. "You wouldn't have stayed in Starfleet?"

"No, I think I would have. But there still would have been a lot to think about. No matter what, I would have needed time to figure out what direction I wanted to take."

"And have you figured it out?"

"Part of it," he said with a soft smile. He saw her look away, the familiar weight of guilt on her shoulders, and he reached across the table to take her hand. "It's not your fault, Kathryn."

She pulled her hand away from his. "I'm the Captain. I'm responsible for what happens to my crew."

"You did everything you could to get Starfleet to grant us our commissions."

"I should have done more."

"Like what? What else could you have done?"

She paused and looked at her hands, which were folded together in her lap. She was quiet for a long time before she answered, "I don't know. I honestly don't know."

He reached across the table and placed a finger under her chin, raising her cool grey eyes to meet his soft, dark ones. "There was nothing else you could have done, Kathryn. No one blames you. Everyone is very appreciative of all the work you did to help them get jobs, look up family members and find places to live. In fact, I have something for you. Wait here." Without giving her a chance to respond, Chakotay bounded off twoards the house. In a few moments, he reappeared with a PADD in his hand. He jogged back down to the table and handed it to her without a word.

Janeway accessed the PADD's contents. It took her a moment to understand what she was reading, but when she did, her hand covered her mouth and she stared down at the PADD in astonishment. Thank you notes. It looked like there was one from each of the former Maquis crewmen, thanking her for her efforts on their behalf, her assistance in helping them readjust to life in the Alpha Quadrant and for giving them a home for seven years. "Without your guidance and leadership, I wouldn't have my family now," B'Elanna had written, "so if you ever doubt for one second that you have changed our lives for the better, think of Tom and Miral and me. Think of the people we were when you met us and think of the people we are now. We wouldn't have our beautiful daughter if it weren't for you, and commissioned officers or not, we are incredibly grateful for the life we now share."

Chakotay watched as tears filled Kathryn's eyes and threatened to spill over onto the picnic table. "I've had it for a couple weeks," he said quietly, "but I thought it would be best if I delivered it in person."

She held the PADD next to her heart. "Thank you. I'll read the rest later." They finished their sandwiches and their lemonade, enjoying the tranquility of their surroundings.

"Your Lake George holodeck program was very good," Chakotay observed after a long silence.

"But there's something about this place that I could never quite capture on the holodeck," she admitted.

"It is much better in person."

Janeway took a deep breath, feeling an awkward silence grow between them. Come on, Kathryn, she thought. Have a little courage. Chakotay obviously wasn't going to bring up the elephant in the room, and he had done such a thoughtful thing collecting those letters for her, she supposed she owed him the courtesy of asking. "So," she began, her voice shaking a little, "how's Seven?"

Chakotay looked at her, puzzled. "She's fine. Don't you talk to her?"

Now it was Kathryn's turn to be confused. "I do. Although I haven't talked to her in a few weeks. I would have assumed she went to Arizona with you."

"Arizona? Why?"

"Why? What do you mean, why? Chakotay, isn't she your... I mean, I thought that you and she were... I mean, aren't you..." She trailed off as Chakotay's expression changed from confusion to comprehension to outright amusement. "What?" she demanded as he burst out laughing.

"Oh my god, Kathryn, I thought you knew."

"Knew what?"

"Seven and I aren't together." He could see that she was not amused and he struggled to regain his composure. "We went on a few dates, that was all. Our relationship barely survived Voyager's reentry to the Alpha Quadrant. You know Seven. When she had only a hundred and fifty potential mates to choose from, I was at the top of the list, but with the candidate pool vastly expanded, it was 'unwise' for her to choose a mate so hastily."

"Oh, Chakotay, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Seven was right, for a lot of reasons." He shook his head in disbelief. "She didn't tell you?"

She shrugged uncomfortably. "We never talked about it."

"I can't believe you didn't know. The Voyager rumor mill must be losing its edge."

She felt a blush creep into her cheeks as she looked away from him. "Well, the rumors don't always reach the captain. And, to be honest, I didn't exactly seek out gossip about you and Seven."

"Jealous?" Chakotay asked with a gleam in his eye.

She refused to meet his gaze and busied herself with cleaning up the lunch dishes. "How about the grand tour?" she suggested.

"Okay." Her lack of response to his question was an answer in itself, and he helped her bring the dishes into the house with a smile. He noticed the shift in Kathryn's mood as she showed him around the property. She was reserved as she pointed out the path through the forest where she liked to run and the gardens where she had spent so much of her time earlier in the week. It was as if she was thinking about something, puzzling out a problem she wasn't quite ready to share. She needed time; he gave it to her.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing to a small building on the side of the house.

"That's the sauna."

"Sauna? Dry heat?"

"Sort of. This is a wood burning sauna, from ancient Earth, invented by a people called the Finns. I'm surprised you've never seen one, Chakotay. It's right up your alley - rustic, outdoors, lots of sweat." She poked him in the ribs with her finger, and he laughed, relieved to see her playful mood returning.

"That's what you think of me, huh? How does it work?"

She showed him where to build a fire to heat the small interior room which was lined with three benches. Opposite the benches sat a tall crate filled with stones. Janeway explained that an occupant could pour water over the hot stones to create steam in addition to the dry heat of the sauna. "The best thing is to sit in the sauna until you're dripping with sweat and then go jump in the lake," Kathryn said as she closed the sauna door behind them and headed back up to the house. "You know, traditionally, the Finns used the sauna as their bath; they went in the nude."

Chakotay raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Why didn't you say so in the first place? It is my kind of thing."

"Don't get any ideas, mister," she shot back, giving him a warning look.

He gave her his most innocent expression. "Who, me? What kind of ideas?"

"Those Maquis tricks of yours."

"You never know what I have up my sleeve," he replied with a wink.

"Hm," she muttered with mock disapproval as they settled into two chairs on the newly painted deck. They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the breeze in the trees and the waves lapping against the shore. After several minutes, Kathryn turned her head to look at her former first officer. He seemed content, settled, peaceful, and she realized by contrast that he hadn't seemed that way over the last few years of their journey. To be fair, neither had she. The pressure of command and the stress of their mission had taken a toll on both of them, and their friendship had suffered as a result. Having him here with her now made her see how much she'd missed her friend, and she suddenly realized she'd do anything to recapture the closeness they had once shared. "What will you do now, Chakotay?"

He turned to her with a disarming smile. "Well, I'm planning on spending the afternoon with a beautiful woman who happens to be a very good friend of mine. I'm going to make her the most delicious dinner she's had in a long time, and then, I'm going to drag her down to the lake and make her watch the sunset with me. If I'm very lucky, she won't push me off the dock."

Janeway looked away, blushing and covering her mouth with her hand to hide the grin she could not keep off her face. She had forgotten that he was such a charmer. She hadn't seen this side of him in a long time, and she realized this was another part of him she had missed. When she recovered her composure, she looked back at him, her eyes sparkling. "That's not what I meant."

His eyes twinkled back. "I know. But I mean it." He paused, looking out at the lake as he formulated a real answer to her question. "I've always wanted to be a paleontologist, and now I finally have the chance to pursue that, so I'm going to see what my options are. I think I might apply for teaching positions at private universities." He winked at her. "I heard you were hooking the junior staff up with contacts in all kinds of industries. Know any paleontologists?"

She laughed. "I don't think so. I'll have to ask around."

His expression grew more serious. "What about you, Kathryn? What are you going to do now?"

"I have another three weeks of leave. Then, I don't know. I haven't received my new orders yet."

"What would you like to do?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure. There's been talk of the admiralty, but I'm not sure I'm ready to leave the bridge of a ship. On the other hand, I don't know how I feel about captaining a ship that's not Voyager."

"I know what you mean. Has the brass decided on Voyager's fate yet?"

"No." Janeway grimaced. "They're going to practically dismantle her analyzing all the modifications we made, but what happens to her after that hasn't been decided. I'm pushing for her to be recommissioned. I was hoping to get her for you, actually. I planned on recommending that Starfleet promote you to captain."

Chakotay tried to mask his surprise. Voyager had always been Kathryn's ship; he had never imagined that she would give her up to him. "Thank you," he stammered. "I'm flattered."

"It doesn't really matter now, I suppose. But I'd hate to see her decommissioned or turned into a museum. She deserves to be out there." She made a sweeping gesture towards the sky.

They continued to talk, slipping into an easy banter. They talked about the debriefing process, the fate of their crew, their reunions with their families. They reminisced about their time on Voyager, and things they had both avoided talking about with others suddenly poured off their tongues. Kathryn had forgotten how easily Chakotay made her laugh; Chakotay had forgotten how much he appreciated Kathryn's quick wit. Neither one of them had enjoyed an afternoon so much in a very long time. It was much later in the day when Kathryn become quiet again, hugging one knee to her chest and looking out at the water. "Are you hungry?" Chakotay asked.

"I am, actually."

"Let me make you dinner." She looked at him closely, as if trying to discover his intentions, and he looked back, his eyes and his face open and vulnerable, as if to say, Here I am. Look into my soul. She nodded, and he went inside. A moment later, she heard the clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen. He peered around the screen door that separated the deck from the kitchen. "It's going to be a while if you want to take a nap or go for a walk."

She chuckled, uncurling her body and bringing herself to her feet. "Trying to get rid of me?" He grinned, shrugged and disappeared back into the kitchen. Without disturbing him, Kathryn slipped past the kitchen into the bedroom and stretched out on the bed. She had no intention of taking a nap, but she did need to think.

Chakotay showing up on her doorstep had been the furthest thing from her mind when she'd awoken that morning. Yet here he was, in her kitchen. She hadn't thought about him much over the past few weeks; at least, she'd thought she hadn't. When he had suddenly appeared on her lawn, she had realized that, in fact, she had thought of him constantly. Each time she'd wished she had someone to talk to or share something with, deep down, she had wished that that someone had been him. After months of very little contact, he had walked back into her life, turning on all of his charms and making himself very available. He was making his intentions very clear; the only question was how she was going to react. A slow smile spread across her face as she considered the possibilities, and then, with a chuckle, she sat up on the bed, suddenly knowing exactly what she wanted to do.

An hour later, Chakotay was putting the finishing touches on his meal. He had found two place settings and set the table on the deck, which had an excellent view of the lake. The table's centerpiece was a tall, thin vase containing a single peace rose. He placed a bottle of wine on the table and garnished each plate of stuffed peppers with a sprig of parsley. "Dinner's ready!" he called, unsure where Kathryn had gone.

A moment later, she emerged from the bedroom and he had to do everything in his power to keep his jaw from gaping open. She wore black heels and a simple black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places and flared out at the waist, its skirt ending just above her knees. Chakotay stared at her in appreciation. "Wow," he breathed. "I wasn't aware dinner was a dress-up occasion."

She smiled one of her crooked Janeway smiles, accepting the compliment. "It's not. I just thought since you were going to all that trouble that I should put in a little effort, too."

He shook his head in amazement, unable to take his eyes off her. "Dinner is served, my lady." He opened the sliding door for her and pulled out her chair before he sat down across from her and poured the wine.

"Chakotay, this looks delicious."

"I hope you like it," he replied earnestly, and she suddenly felt that he was referring to more than the food.

"It's bound to be better than my lasagna."

He looked up at her with a smile, raising his glass. "Bon appetit." They clinked glasses and lapsed into a comfortable silence, enjoying the food, the wine and each others' company. A few times, Kathryn looked up coyly, and Chakotay met her eyes with a penetrating gaze that quickly became too intense for her. As they finished their meal, Chakotay glanced across the lake, where the sun was low on the horizon. He reached across the table and grabbed Kathryn's hand, pulling her to her feet. "Come on." He led her down the stairs and onto the dock where he released her hand and they stood, side by side, looking westward, as the sun fell lower in the sky.

"I've always come down here to watch the sunset, ever since I was a little girl," she said softly.

"Do you mind that I'm joining you?"

"Not at all." She gave him a shy glance. "Actually, I'm glad you're here."

He smiled. "Good." She wrapped her arms around her body and shivered as a cool breeze swept across the lake. "Chilly?"

"A little," she admitted, and she felt his strong arm wrap around her shoulders, pulling her against his chest. Tentatively, she reached out and hugged him, solidifying their connection as his other arm encircled her body. They remained wrapped around each other as Kathryn closed her eyes, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat. Strange that after all this time, it felt so right to be here. She pulled away, taking both of his hands in hers. "Chakotay, why did you come here?"

"Can we sit?" She nodded, and he led her back to the picnic table. He sat, facing out toward the sunset, away from the table, and she sat beside him, keeping her hand enclosed in his. "I told you a legend once, about an angry warrior. Do you remember?" He looked at her and she nodded silently. "That angry warrior... kept his promise to the beautiful warrior woman. He stayed by her side, and he did his best to ease her burdens. Even though he didn't always succeed, he tried."

"He succeeded," she whispered, her eyes becoming misty.

"Their tribe grew and prospered. Many married and had children, and the angry warrior hoped that he, too, would have this fate. He waited, for years, for the woman warrior to feel that their tribe was secure enough that she could marry and have a child, but the burden of leading the tribe demanded too much of her, and she sacrificed her own happiness for the greater good."

He took a deep breath, then continued, "One day, the tribe was set upon by a terrible enemy. They fought valiantly against this enemy, and when they were victorious, they captured one of the enemy women. She was young and beautiful, and she caught the angry warrior's eye. He thought that he could build a life with her, because his woman warrior would never be free to give of herself to him. But the young woman could not bring him peace the way that his beautiful warrior princess could. When he realized this, the tribe had scattered, and the angry warrior was separated from the warrior woman, so he went on a journey to find her, to see if she would accept him by her side once again."

There were tears in Kathryn's eyes as she reached out for his other hand. "The angry warrior was wrong about one thing," she whispered.

"What was that?"

"He thought that the woman would never be able to give herself to him. But now her tribe is safe, and she is free." Dropping his hands, she reached up to cradle his face between her palms. She leaned towards him slowly, the gentle breeze caressing their skin, the golden glow of the sunset illuminating their faces. And as she closed her eyes, her lips met his, soft, full and supple. When she leaned back, his eyes were smiling and she was crying. He reached out and gently brushed the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs.

Then he sat back and pulled her against him, wrapping his arm tightly around her shoulders as they turned back to the sunset. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "I love you, Kathryn Janeway,"

She tilted her head back in a peal of joyous laughter and threw her arms around his neck. "Oh, Chakotay, I love you, too."

He pulled her onto his lap and held her close as they watched the sun sink lower on the horizon, tinging the base of the clouds with gold. The sky became a thousand shades of blue, red, orange and purple. The sun began to disappear beyond the distant shore, leaving a trail of orange and gold on the water below. Kathryn shivered, and Chakotay's arms tightened around her as he nuzzled her neck. She felt her body respond to his touch, but she did not turn to look at him, her eyes riveted on the purple sky until the last vestige of sunlight disappeared behind the trees. Breathing together, they let out a contented sigh, and Kathryn turned to face him, straddling his lap.

Their first kiss had been pure and chaste, but their second was deep and passionate as Chakotay ran his hands through her hair and pulled her lips to his. He explored her mouth with his tongue as his free hand travelled up the front of her dress to caress her breast. She gasped at the contact, deepening the kiss and trying to sink further into his lap, his hardness pushing against her.

He broke the kiss to catch his breath and held her shoulders with both hands, gazing at her with wonder. Her eyes glowed in the dusk, still glistening with unshed tears. He ran his hands over her face, through her hair and down the sides of her body, as if trying to convince himself that she was real. "I have loved you for so long," he whispered.

She inhaled shakily, amazed by the rawness and the power of the emotional current that ran between them. Tentatively, she reached out with one hand to run her fingers over the lines of his tattoo. "Me too," she answered softly. "I didn't know it. I couldn't... But I did... love you. For so long. I do."

He felt the tears begin to spill out of his own eyes and he pulled her against him, hugging her fiercely. She held him, her hands stroking soothingly down his back, until the tension between them started to rise again, and she found herself rocking her pelvis against him as he grew harder beneath her and captured her lips in a penetrating kiss.

He finally stopped them, knowing that if he let things continue much longer, he'd lose control, and he didn't want to make love to her for the first time on a picnic table. "We should go inside," he gasped. She nodded, and led him wordlessly up the hill, into the house and into the bedroom.

Afterwards, when she lay in his arms, her head on his chest, she looked up at him and smiled. "I'm glad you came looking for me."

His chuckle rumbled through his torso. "I should hope so."

She bit her lip, looking up at him with feigned uncertainty. "Was it worth the wait?"

He rolled his eyes at her obvious ploy, but he indulged her, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his lips against hers. "Every second."

"Good." She ran her fingers through his hair. "We have a lot of lost time to make up for."

He looked down at her seriously. "Not lost, Kathryn. Those years brought us here."

"Yes. Yes they did. And this is a pretty damn good place to be, don't you think?"

"Absolutely," he growled, rolling her underneath him. "Now what was that you said about taking a sauna naked?"