“Can I ask you just one more question?” Janeway said. Her coquettish manner was discomfiting, causing his heart to pound. This was not the Janeway he knew...the distant, tired captain beat down by seven years of stress, crisis and guilt. This was a young, almost carefree Janeway he was experiencing. He was falling in love, freefalling, all over again.

“Will I have to break the temporal prime directive to answer?” he chided mildly, trying to hide the feelings her behavior was eliciting. He suddenly felt raw, exposed, vulnerable; just as he did when he had first fallen in love with her. He had labored long and hard to master his raging desire, now it was overwhelming him once again.

“Maybe,” she teased, “just a little.”

They stopped, leaning on the engineering console facing each other. Chakotay was incredibly apprehensive.

Janeway wrung her hands briefly in front of her, attempting to compose the question she desperately wanted to ask! She couldn’t look into his eyes. She feared she would lose her nerve. Looking at her own nervously entwining hands, she carefully began. “For two people who started out as enemies, it seems we get to know each other pretty well. So I was wondering...” She suddenly raised her eyes to him, and with more courage than she felt, setting her chin defiantly and daring him not to answer, she plunged forward. “Just how close do we get?”

Chakotay felt as though the engineering deck plating had collapsed beneath him. For several seconds, his jaw dropped, he could say nothing. She could see him warring with himself over the answer. He was finally able to put together a coherent response. “Let’s just say,” he said, trying valiantly to hide his obvious regret and sadness, “there are some barriers we never cross.”

“Barriers?” she said in a little voice, lowering her eyes.

“Protocol.” Chakotay said softly, almost bitterly.

“Ah,” she sighed, looking back into those beautiful brown eyes. She knew instinctively that she herself was the architect of those barriers.

“Can I ask you a question?” Chakotay asked hesitantly. His heart was thundering, threatening to leap from his chest. He had to take this chance, had to know how she really felt. The attraction between them was overpowering, emboldening him.

She did not answer out loud. He read her consent in her eyes, the set of her chin.

“May I kiss you?”

Her eyes misted over. Of all the questions she had imagined him asking, this was not one of them. She was shocked at first, then saw the simple logic of the request. She would not remember the kiss, but he would. Could she give him this? Did she dare? She could feel her body responding to the mere suggestion of intimacy between them. She realized she was holding her breath. He obviously loved her at this moment, quite possibly he had loved her from the moment they met over seven years ago. Oh God, she thought to herself, her temporal counterpart must be a bitch on wheels to spurn him for that length of time, especially considering the attraction she was fighting.

What they were considering was forbidden, and all the more seductive because of that very fact. Once the ‘barrier’ was crossed, it would be very difficult for him not to want more. She knew that as surely as she knew the attraction between them, once ignited, would be difficult, if not impossible to extinguish.

“Wouldn’t that make things harder, more painful for you in the future?” she finally offered, by way of diffusing the situation.

He took a moment to think about that. “Yes,” he said honestly. She could read it on his face, he was more than willing to accept that fate, to forge a memory that might well have to sustain him for a lifetime.

Without hesitation, she stepped into his arms, raising up to kiss him. The first touch of their lips was tentative, intoxicating. She was withdrawing, not wanting to hurt him more than necessary, when he pulled her to him in a searing kiss she felt down to her toes.

Her body answered his with a worship of it own. God, how she wanted him. She had never experienced desire this intense; never, ever considered throwing her career over for a man, but that’s what she wanted to do at this moment. She was suddenly grateful that she would not remember that kiss as she eased away from his embrace. They were both breathing heavily, trying to compose themselves.

He wanted to, felt compelled to tell her he loved her; had loved her for over seven years. She was right about the pain in his future! The ache in his chest, knowing he would never again hold her in his arms, was too much. He longed to kiss her again, to hold her, to whisper his love for her, worship her, make love to her. The need to love...to be with her...was overwhelming. “Kathryn,” he stammered

Quickly she raised a finger to his tremulous lips, quieting him, preventing the words that he needed to say.

He realized she was holding out her hand. He took it, held it, drinking in her face, the love for him she allowed him to see that would vanish along with her memories of this moment.

“See you in the future,” she said, sadly, knowing what this timeline had done to him, regretting causing him yet more pain than she had obviously done in their long tenure together.

He smiled bravely for her; his countenance assuring her that the pain he was suffering, would suffer in the future, was well worth the intimate moment she had allowed them to experience.

Janeway turned to go. As she walked toward the door, she turned back to see Chakotay, still facing the console, his back to her, leaning on it for some much needed support, shoulders hunched in sadness and resignation.

“Chakotay,” she croaked out.

She was shocked to see his tears as he turned to her. He was not even trying to hide his bitter disappointment over their brief time together.

“Chakotay,” she said, making a decision. “I want you to promise me something.”

He swallowed. “Anything!” he assured her.

“Tell her...when you return...tell her. I don’t mean all about the temporal stuff, but tell her that here, that now; I told you in unequivocal terms that I love you. I can’t see that changing in seven years, or seventy years. Promise me! Chakotay. Do this for yourself... but mostly do it for her.”

“I don’t know if I can keep that promise, Kathryn” Chakotay said bitterly. “You and I... we’ve been through so much. Our relationship is replete with strife, bitter recriminations; strong, overpowering emotions that we have kept in check for so long...I’m not certain what lies between us anymore. We are friends. We have fought long and hard to get our relationship to a point where it is manageable from day to day. I don’t know how she will react.  I do not believe she will welcome this information.”

“Frankly, Chakotay, I don’t give a damn about the relationship as it stands between the two of you right now.” She knew herself all too well. “All I know is that she has built a wall, and now the mortar is too strong for her to tear down by herself. I can’t imagine feeling any differently about you in the future; which means she is deeply in love with you.” She was very curious about their relationship. “How long has it been since you told her you loved her?”

Chakotay thought back over their seven years together. He never really said the words. The closest he had come to telling her he loved her was that evening in their shelter on New Earth, five interminable years ago, when he recited his “Angry Warrior’ legend. That was a declaration of love, he thought to himself, there was no way she could have misinterpreted that. “Five years ago,” he said finally, sheepishly.

Janeway could not hide her surprise. How could this man, a man so obviously sexual, sensual, hide from Janeway that he loved her so long, so desperately. Seven years later, he still loved her, kissing her with such abandon, such passion, it took her breath away.

Now she was more sure than ever. If his love was still so alive, so strong that it took only a look from her to bring those emotions surging to the surface, she was sure that she too was able to hold that love in trust, until such time as they were both ready, willing to change the parameters of their situation. “Go to her, Chakotay...tell her!”

He could see what it cost her to know that she would forget him, forget their time together here. He could see her pain in sending him off to another woman...even if that woman was her. He shook his head no, still unsure.

Her assurance was palpable. “Tell her, Chakotay. Remind her of that time five long years ago when you offered your heart. Believe me, she has not forgotten. Tell her you feel no differently.”

“That would be untrue,” Chakotay said, guardedly. He saw the shock register on her face, the bitter part of him relishing the pain he inflicted if only for a second. They were both so adept at hurting each other; one more indication of those wounded, powerful emotions they kept tightly under wraps.

“I love you much more today than I did then.” he said finally. “Deeper, more desperately, I think. Gods, Kathryn, I’m so lonely. At the end of the day as I make my way to my quarters, all I want to do is crawl into your bed, hold you, kiss you, make love to you all night, tell you that you will never be alone. Hope of that dies every night; but in the morning, I see you on the bridge, and I swear to myself all over again, I will wait for you forever.”

She couldn’t leave him like this. She walked slowly back to him, placing her hand on his chest. He looked down at her hand resting on his breast, remembering another time she gently caressed him like this. That harrowing day, as they faced the Borg for the first time, she had told him...will tell him, he corrected himself...that she could not imagine a day without him. How many days... months... years had passed since then; but he still found solace in that heartfelt admission. He raised his eyes to her.

“Promise me, Chakotay. Promise me now.”

He found he could not even speak. Chin quivering, he nodded his assent.

Janeway turned on her heel abruptly, walked through the door, never looking back, not giving him a chance to change his mind.
 
 

They were just finishing the last of the cider. “It’s strange,” she thought out loud, “thinking there is a part of you life you know nothing about.”

“Sounds a lot like the future,” Chakotay said pensively, still unsure if he could fulfill the promise he had made to Janeway’s temporal counterpart.

“Any predictions?” she teased, painfully reminding him of the coquette she had been in the engine room several hours ago...seven years ago.

Chakotay wished fervently he knew the future. The past was haunting him. “Only that in a few minutes, this bottle will be empty.”

“Then maybe you should go to the cargo bay and get another,” she teased.

“How did you know that’s where I keep it?” he said, perplexed.

“Oh, I can’t tell you that.” She was in rare form, actually flirting with him as she was did  on those rare occasions when she let her hair down with him alone. She was usually so guarded in her behavior, knowing the physical effect she had on him.

Her manner was causing her first officer much distress. The feelings she illicited in him were just as strong as they were in the engine room when she caused him to lose control completely.

“Why not?” he managed to croak out.

“The temporal prime directive!” she said teasingly. She had watched him hide the case of liquor months ago.

Chakotay’s mouth dropped. She couldn’t remember, he thought to himself. It was impossible.

“Chakotay, what is it. The ship is no longer in danger, is it?”

“The ship is not in danger, Kathryn.”

“But something is not right. I can sense you are holding something back. Something important.” Janeway wanted desperately to know what happened during the temporal rift which he was not permitted by Starfleet directive to divulge. “If it is something I can help with, and it will not compromise the timeline, I don’t see any reason why we cannot discuss it.”

Chakotay thought for several moments. He supposed telling her the experiences he had with her younger counterpart would have no bearing on the past. It would, of necessity, change the future. It could make the future unbearable. Or, he thought to himself, it could force them to face their predicament head on. He was so tired; tired of hiding his feelings day after day; tired of being lonely; tired of going to bed by himself, needing human contact, but spurning all advances from other woman; weary of hoping against hope that she would finally come to him, admit her feelings for him and allow him to show her just how rich and rewarding a life together on Voyager could be.

Screw it, he thought to himself. “I made a promise to someone,” he began hesitantly. “It has to do with something that happened over seven years ago.” Or an event that occurred a few hours ago, he thought to himself, getting lost in the paradox.

“Chakotay, I can see you are troubled by this. Maybe it is time to fulfill that promise. To whom did you make this promise?” she said, trying to be helpful.

Oh, no! she thought to herself. She didn’t even know him over seven years ago. Or did she? She could tell from his stricken look that it was she whom he had promised. OK, she thought to herself, I can fix this. She heaved a sigh of relief. “ I release you from you promise.” she said carefully.

“I’m afraid it’s not quite that simple.” Did he still need to honor that promise made just hours ago to a seven year younger Janeway? That young captain seemed so certain; but as he looked at Janeway now, he could not help remembering their long, tumultuous history.  Perhaps he had explained their relationship to that younger version of his captain badly. The wall she had built was indeed formidable.

“Kathryn,” he stammered.

“Chakotay, please...don’t do this.”

“I don’t want to.” Chakotay stood, walked over to the viewport and looked out at the unfamiliar starscape that only reinforced his feelings of vulnerability, trepidation. “No! That’s not true...I do want to,” he said softly, pleadingly. “Gods, I’m such a coward.” He couldn’t even face her. She would see his uncertainty, his dread of what this conversation could cost; their carefully honed friendship, the foundation of which was profound, but  also tenuous.

Janeway knew at once that her strong headedness was causing problems between them. She knew instinctively that he had run into her temporal counterpart while the ship was still in the Alpha Quadrant over seven years ago. She was a starship captain; he was a Maquis criminal. What could have possibly happened between them to throw the carefully forged friendship they struggled valiantly to maintain into such turmoil.  She could see the conflict it was causing in his emotions.

“Chakotay, you are not a coward. I do not believe there is a cowardly bone in your body. You are the kindest, sweetest man I have ever known. You can be extremely gentle, but that does not equate to cowardliness.”

“No... I am not sweet, and right now I want to be anything but gentle!” he thundered. “It is that side of me, the kind, sensitive friend that has usurped the man who loves you desperately; the selfish man who wants nothing else than to feel you writhing underneath him, shouting his name.”

Kathryn’s eye’s grew large. Was this the Chakotay she knew? She should order him from her quarters, but he was so upset. And, she admitted to herself, she was secretly pleased that he still harbored these strong erotic thoughts about her. God knows, she had dreamed of being underneath him. She often awoke in a sweat, with the sweet sensation of his weight on top of her.

“Kathryn, you told me seven years ago...or a few hours ago...that you love me...that I should go to you immediately, tell you how I feel. You assured me that you loved me... that neither time, nor distance, nor circumstance would ever alter that. Now, I have to know! I must know, Kathryn! Do you still hold those feelings close to your heart?”

Janeway didn’t know what to say. Was the man blind? Of course she loved him, still loved him; but what difference did it make? They were still captain and first officer. Nothing had changed, really; except now there was one very emotional, very desirable male standing in front of her, demanding to know the truth she had managed to keep hidden. A truth hidden very well, she admitted to herself, if he could doubt the way she felt.

“Chakotay,” she wheezed. How could she tell him. There was no turning back once she uttered the words of love...of desire...words that for seven years she had somehow been able to prevent tumbling uncontrollably from her lips.

“Kathryn...enough! I love you. There I said it. No more legends, no more hiding. I have loved you since the day we met. You told me a few hours ago that you loved me...that I was making a mistake not confronting you with this. Maybe it is good to get this out in the open. My father taught me that the simple truth is always best."

The truth! Janeway eyes darted around the room, anywhere but those searing, demanding brown eyes, searching desperately for a way to stop...to misdirect him.

"Kathryn," he said gravely, "you love me or you don’t! I need to know that now before my life is spent in a meaningless quest to make you mine. If that is not going to happen, now or sometime in the future, tell me now!

Janeway turned away from him. How could he do this to me? she thought, trembling. He must know how I feel, she reasoned. She hated emotional confrontations, knew she handled them poorly. She was the coward! Chakotay never really hid his feelings for her. Time after time he had bared his heart for her....and time after time she had spurned him, purposely misinterpreting his advances, even putting him in his place on those rare occasions when he had the temerity to cross the carefully defined parameters of their relationship; but she never stopped believing they had a future together. She always hoped she could get the goddamn ship back to the Alpha Quadrant and claim him for her own.

When she turned to him, Chakotay could read the bitter conflict on her face. He approached her, took her in his arms and held her gently to his chest. He hated that he had presented her with this ultimatum...hated himself for being so selfish, so brutish.

“It’s OK... I’m sorry, Kathryn. You know I will wait for you forever. I’ll never leave you. Everything will be OK.”

Janeway tried to recover, to extract herself from his comforting embrace, but the last words from his mouth caused her to sob uncontrollably.

“Don’t cry.” Now he had done it. He had made a starfleet captain weep. “Don’t cry. You will always be my Kathryn. My love.”

Kathryn tensed in his arms. He braced himself for the protocol lashing he feared would come.

Janeway suddenly realized she was about to repeat the pattern which had sentenced them to live in this self imposed emotional limbo. How difficult would it be to accept his love, to live a more normal life that included some very healthy side benefits. She was so lonely. He was lonely. They had been in love from the moment she stood between him and Paris on the bridge, when he backed down from the confrontation Paris had initiated. She knew at that moment, this was a man who combined strong emotions and a sense of honor. She loved him for that. That, and she felt the heat from his body ignite her insides as no man had done before. A heat which still burned white hot, ready to flare up and consume them if they were not vigilant; careful. Janeway had been very careful.

How many times had she arrived at the bridge, feeling miserable after enduring yet another long, empty night alone in her quarters, only to be greeted by Chakotay’s warm, loving smile in the morning. A smile that said, unabashedly, he was happy to see her, more than happy to have the opportunity to spend the day at her side, whether she acknowledged him or not. She did not deserve him. He made each day in this God-forsaken hell hole of a quadrant not only tolerable, but often times enjoyable.

She wanted to stay in his arms forever, to feel the his strength surround her, keep her warm...safe...loved! She looked up at him with the wisp of a smile.

“Kathryn,” he breathed. “I want to kiss you.”

“Is that what you said to me seven years ago?” she asked, wondering just what had passed between them.

“No. I asked if I may kiss you, but I’m feeling much more assertive now,” he laughed, gripping her even tighter. He was amazed at how different she felt in his arms...smaller, leaner. He would have to fatten her up, he thought to himself, bring back those luscious curves he had caressed just hours earlier.

Janeway could feel the heat through the uniforms, feel his body reacting to their close proximity. One kiss and they would both be goners.

Chakotay slowly, gently lifted her face to his, stealing a light kiss that sent shockwaves coursing through their veins.

“Oh God!” Janeway gasped against his soft, demanding lips.

“My Kathryn,” said Chakotay with such reverence, tenderness, such possessiveness. “My Kathryn,” he sighed again, satisfying a long unfulfilled need to claim her for his own, to hold her, love her as he had never loved before.

Janeway could feel the relief flood through his body. They would no longer be alone; they would face the precarious, harrowing years ahead content in the knowledge that they had secretly found their way home in each other.