Chakotay stood in front of the mirror, both hastening and delaying the departure from his quarters. He had looked forward to tonight's party for the past week...an old fashioned “Sweethearts Dance,” that's how the resident Talaxian had billed the current night’s entertainment. Spirits knew, they needed a distraction. This was definitely one scary region of space. They had been attacked, threatened, swindled and just plain treated rudely over the past six weeks. Janeway had thought the party suggested by Neelix was just the thing to soothe some tired, overtaxed nerves.

Chakotay always liked attending the parties. It was an excuse to gather as many of the crew in one place as they could, a time to reconnect with those one didn’t see too often and interact in a less formal setting... a time to get out of the uniforms...to let one’s hair down.

There was really only one drawback to these impromptu gatherings...he dreaded it on every occasion where there were people, wine and music in one place. He knew he would be required to dance at least one dance with his commanding officer. Not that he disliked dancing with Janeway. On the contrary, he enjoyed it very much. It was the unfortunate aftereffects that he dreaded. He would have to hold her in his arms...the crew would expect them to dance the entire song together...that translated into almost five minutes in close proximity to Kathryn. Gods, he felt like a teenager again. He went through the same thing before every goddamn party!

He looked again into the mirror. He could feel his heart rate accelerating just thinking about this evening. He knew he would again be uncomfortable for some time after the dance. It would take all his will and self control to belay the physical effects of being so close to her for a prolonged period of time. Sometimes, just watching her work the room would cause him physical pain. She would show up in some great dress which he knew would fit her like a glove. Sometimes he was certain she would replicate clothes that she knew would drive him crazy, but in his more lucid moments, he realized that any clothes would seem seductive compared to those god awful Starfleet uniforms. When finally he would approach her for the required command team dance, he would be stiff and controlled; it was not an enjoyable experience. He secretly thought to himself that Janeway also felt awkward...self conscious...aroused! That thought made him smile into the mirror. “Why are you smiling, you idiot” he said to the image that smiled dumbly back at him.

He was already forty five minutes late. The party would be in full swing by now. Maybe Janeway was already there. He looked at the hopeful face he saw in the mirror, “You’ve got it really bad, old man.” He slowly shook his head, “It’s been seven years! Get over it!” he directed to the pathetic mug staring back at him.

Janeway was trying on the fifth dress when she suddenly caught sight of her face in the mirror. Why was is so important to wear the perfect dress? Janeway's eyes rolled up in her head. It was important because she knew he would be there, his eyes unwaveringly pursuing her as they had on so many similar occasions. How she loved and dreaded these parties. She was pretty certain Chakotay felt the same.

She finally decided on the blue dress. “His favorite color,” she thought to herself. The dress was a deep cobalt that reflected different intensities of the shocking blue depending how it caught the light. It was soft, skin-tight, sensual...with long sleeves, low-cut in front, flowing loosely from her hips to flare just below the knees. She twirled in front of the mirror. She felt her heart pounding as she imagined her entrance, catching him watching, waiting for her. How had they both maintained their distance >from each other? Sighing, she asked the melancholy figure in the mirror that question for perhaps the thousandth time.

She would have to dance with her handsome first officer again tonight. It was a ritual she would gladly forgo, for she knew it made the commander extremely uncomfortable. She held herself aloof, stiff, refusing to revel in the warmth of his embrace, knowing the physical effect she had on him. He tried to hide it, control it...which only endeared him to her more. He did not want to make her feel uncomfortable, and as a result, it was shear torture for the both of them.

For seven years they had endured this, and each time was as painful and as poignant as the first time he took her into his arms and danced with her. They had both been surprised by the jolt generated between them when they formally embraced to dance to the last song of the first real party on Voyager....a now familiar dance that would alternately torment and sustain them through all the years of this extraordinary journey.

Chakotay arrived on the holodeck first. The party was well underway. He entered and greeted crewmen and women. Many of the women flirted with him, but as always, he was disarmingly disinterested. Choosing a dark corner at the bar that gave him a excellent view of the holodeck door, he waited for her, watching as each new arrival entered.

Suddenly, she was there. Bathed in a golden glow from the soft lights of the dance floor, she stood at the door, dazzling in the blue dress. She wore her now shoulder length hair down, just the way she knew he liked it.

Janeway was barely breathing. She surveyed the dance floor and smiled engagingly. She loved to see the crew enjoying themselves. She acknowledged the crewmen close to her, and moved further into the holodeck, touching and greeting various members of her crew, ever aware that he was here somewhere, watching her.

He had been following her progress through the hall. She finally caught site of him. She looked away, blushing furiously. He loved it when he had that effect on her. It was an ancient dance they performed, each averting their eyes when caught observing the other.

Chakotay realized he wasn’t breathing and forced his lungs to fill with air. “Ah!” he thought to himself, “so tonight she wanted to play the flirting game.” He was never sure which Janeway would show up on these occasions. Some nights she practically ignored him, seemingly preoccupied and disinterested, finally dancing the required dance with him, then leaving, allowing the crew to enjoy the bulk of the evening unencumbered by the presence of their commanding officer.

Tonight she was in rare form...feminine and coquettish. Chakotay knew it was going to be a playful, painful evening. She wanted him to notice her tonight. Chakotay much preferred this Janeway. She was relaxed and ready to have a little fun. Chakotay could see the mischief gleaming in her animated eyes when she would catch his, throwing down the gauntlet, challenging and unsettling her first officer, often to distraction. Chakotay was always up for these games. He could play with the best of them. That is why the captain baited him time after time. It was the inherent danger that made the game so much fun.

Both knew the ground rules, refined and honed over the seven year voyage. Only the captain was allowed to catch him looking. If he communicated his desire to the rest of the crew, the game was over. Chakotay had become very adept at this game. Janeway enjoyed him watching her, enjoyed the desire she saw in his eyes. They were allowed, even encouraged to dance with other partners.

Chakotay sensed something different in her demeanor this evening. Part way through the evening, Chakotay realized Janeway had started to play the game in earnest. Her behavior was straying dangerously beyond harmless flirting. She was not averting her eyes... really not sticking to the rules at all. Chakotay was having difficulty controlling the longing in his loins. He was usually a master at control. Janeway had been working hard at tearing down those controls all night.

The game usually ended right before the last song, when they were expected to dance together. Even after a night like this, the dance was usually strained, painfully uncomfortable for them both. It was an appalling way to end an otherwise enchanting evening.

Neelix was announcing the last number. Chakotay sighed, taking a deep calming breath when he heard the introduction; Moonglow from “Picnic,” a movie Tom Paris had just unearthed from Voyager’s vast database. Chakotay thought it was perhaps one of the most erotic pieces he had ever heard.

Chakotay steeled himself for the last ritual dance. Approaching Janeway, he suspected he could be in deep trouble. The captain watched him intently, never taking her eyes from him. He knew he had to play the game to its conclusion, he eyed her up and down seductively. He started slowly at her feet, taking in the incredibly high, flimsy electric blue heels she wore. He loved what those shoes did for her legs he so was so seldom allowed to see. Continuing up, he licked his lips as he imagined what it was like to run his hands up over her hips, to caress her small waist, her perfectly formed breasts, the tops of which showed to beautiful advantage in the low cut bodice. Janeway was concentrating on his mouth when she suddenly started, jarring herself from her own reverie. She stared into his eyes, still challenging him, still playing the now precarious game. Chakotay smiled slowly, lazily...knowing full well the effect of his dimples on members of the opposite sex. If she wanted to appear to smolder, she had better beware the flame. “Dance, Captain?” he said, holding out his hand in invitation.

She took his hand, and followed him to the floor. They took their formal stance and began the bizarre dance which was theirs alone. Chakotay felt the soft, smooth skin-like material she had picked out. It felt as though she was wearing nothing. They both experienced the enigmatic, familiar, yet always unsettling current flowing between them. The music reached a peak, stopped suddenly, skipped a beat then continued. The melody was so damn seductive. Chakotay was almost grimacing. The contact of his hand just above the top of her hip was white hot. All he could think was that a few inches down lie her rounded hip and buttocks. He tried to place a moratorium on all sexual thoughts, clamping down on his feelings, suppressing his desire, attempting to tame his heart beat down to a manageable rhythm. He didn’t dare look into her eyes. Chakotay caught sight of Tom and B'lana, holding each other so close, eyes closed, gyrating, letting the music transport them to a place where the other crew members no longer existed. He longed to feel that way again...Gods he missed holding someone like that.

Janeway knew it was because she had played the game so earnestly, he was not in good fighting form by the time they were to dance their “command performance.” She suddenly regretted putting him through the ringer tonight. Usually he was so reserved, controlled; tonight she had completely disarmed him.

Chakotay silently admitted defeat. The game was over. She had won again. He would spend the rest of the night berating himself for allowing himself to hope that this evening would be any different than all the rest. Hope was the killer. Hope was the card she always played, defeating him time after time.

To know that she could have this effect on him, causing him to loose control while seemingly enjoying herself made her feel suddenly, exceedingly cruel. She was so tired of playing games, denying him...and herself any real chance at a normal life on the ship, if anything about this journey could be referred to as normal. She knew she shouldn't let her thoughts go there. Just once she wanted to feel his arms around her. Just the thought of that started her heart hammering uncontrollably. She could feel the heat rising off her body, causing her face to flush. “Screw it,” Janeway thought to herself, “after all, it’s only a dance.” Suddenly she allowed her rigid body to relax against his. She placed her cheek to his...hers was exceedingly warm. She felt rather than heard the groan that rose deep within his chest.

Gods, she smelled wonderful. Hoping he had not misinterpreted her body language, Chakotay drew her hand to his chest and covered it with his own. She could feel his heart pounding wildly. She caressed his neck with her free hand, her touch feather light, finally running her fingers through his surprisingly soft hair. Emboldened by her response, Chakotay wrapped his arm tightly around her waist, drawing her to him. She could feel him trying to get his rapid breathing under control, felt his arousal, but did not move away. Chakotay moved them gracefully to the strains “Moonglow.” He felt the swell of her abdomen pushing against him as they swayed to the beat of the music, causing him to loose what little control he had left. The game had broken down completely. There were no rules, no parameters, just his body and hers, radiating a heat that neither seemed able or willing to extinguish.

Chakotay wanted desperately to stop dancing and kiss her right there in front of the entire crew. It took all his concentration to follow the beat of the music, moving one foot than the other. To hold her so close, for her to allow it, even encourage it, it took his breath away. Chakotay was certain that everyone was watching them, but the others seemed to be enjoying the dance, immersed in their own partners. He knew many of the crew thought they were already lovers. His mind was reeling. What did this mean? He looked to Janeway for the answer. Chakotay marveled as she looked deep into his eyes, holding him as if she wanted the music to never end.

But end it did. When the last strains of “Moonglow” finally died away, Janeway took one step backwards and dropped her hands to her side. “Thank you, Commander,” she managed to croak out, formally.

Chakotay could say nothing. He swallowed hard and nodded, gazing at her with so much hope and expectation that Janeway wanted to step immediately back into his arms. They stood there transfixed for a few seconds. It seemed like forever. Neelix was saying goodnight to all over the sound system, startling them. Both finally looked to the small Talaxian, trying to compose themselves, attempting to focus on the announcement he was making outlining events over the next week. When Chakotay looked back, she was gone!

Starting back to his quarters, Chakotay made his way through the corridors dazed, his thoughts in turmoil. Gods, he wanted her so badly. He was suddenly so lonely. How could he face his barren, empty quarters; dreading the endless night that lay before him... the physical pain, the self loathing, the emotional longing...all culminating in yet another cold shower. He found himself standing in front of her door.

He really had no idea what he was doing there. Two crewmen suddenly came around the corner, chatting amicably together, greeting him as he stood stupidly in front of the captain’s quarters. Not wanting to appear disoriented in front of the crew, he drew himself up and pushed the buzzer, hoping against hope that she had not returned directly to her quarters.

Janeway had practically run out of the holodeck. Damn, why had she done that? She hurried to her quarters to hide. She threw off the stilettos she was wearing and flopped down on her sofa. What she had done to him tonight was unconscionable. She sat there shaking, disbelieving. She let the game get out of hand and he got burnt. The Commander was so caught up in it, he hadn’t seen it coming. It was always her responsibility to keep the parameters in place. She had lost control.

Her body tensed when she heard the buzzer. “Oh, no,” she thought to herself. “He would want an explanation.” She had none, except of course, that she loved him, had for years and was just so goddamn tired of denying it, especially after making love to him all night with only her eyes.

She stood up as tall as her shoeless frame would allow and admitted him. She intended to apologize to him, to beg him to forgive her, to allow her to reinstate the parameters that had governed their relationship for so long...

All those thoughts evaporated when he entered the room. He crossed to her quickly, gathering her up in his arms, amazed at how small she seemed in her scant little dress with no heels to compensate for her lack of height.

“Kathryn,” he moaned. He was here, holding her, loving her; not demanding explanations. He knew as well as she why the game got out of hand.

Please,” he pleaded. Gods...he hated the way he sounded; so needy, so lonely, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Please, don’t... don’t send me away. I love you, Kathryn. Make love with me... make love to me.. let me make love to you, Kathryn.” Spirits...he was babbling, crying.

How could she go on hurting him this way. She felt miserable. She had reduced him to begging! For seven long years he had loved her unconditionally, never asking anything in return.

“Chakotay, I’m sorry.” she began.

He released her and stepped back as if she had punched him in the gut. The air rushed out of him and he gasped. This was his last resort. What was there beyond begging? He fell to his knees, ashamed that he could not control himself in front of her. He was making a fool of himself. He loathed himself.

She dropped to her knees in front of him. His emotions overwhelmed her. “Chakotay, I’m so sorry for causing you this pain.” She took his face in his hands to still him. “You know I love you, Chakotay. I have loved you >from the moment you materialized on my bridge, from the day we forged our alliance.” She was weeping too, now.

It took him several seconds to realize what she was saying, perhaps because it was exactly what he so desperately wanted to hear.

He took her face in his large, strong hands and kissed her, tentatively pressing his lips to hers. The touch was light, gentle, sensual. Janeway was just starting to recover from the initial jolt caused by the touch of his lips when he pulled her body tightly to him, suddenly kissing her with an abandon that made his chest ache. Janeway was literally being swept off her feet as he rose up, bringing her with him. In his exuberance, he twirled her around, swinging her, kissing her, laughing and crying at the same time.

When she finally caught her breath, she looked into his eyes and said playfully “You know, you can’t just heave me around like I was some kind of rag doll!”

“Actually,” he said as he effortlessly swung her up into his arms, carrying her to the bedroom, “I can!”