They paddled in silence for nearly twenty minutes, circling around to return to her dock. Unhappy with the intrusion on "his" lake, Kathryn's loon let out a wail.
"What was that?" Chakotay asked. Having grown up on an arid planet, he'd never heard the waterfowl's cry.
"A loon. See it's head? Over there, to the right," she whispered.
"No," he said, searching the area where she pointed.
"It's right there!" she said in a frustrated whisper. "Do you need a tricorder to find it?"
"It would help!" he returned in a whisper that was nearly as loud as his speaking voice.
Suddenly, the bird flew over their heads, startling Chakotay, and knocking him off balance.
"Chakotay! Sit still or we'll. . . ." Kathryn didn't get a chance to finish her sentence as the next thing she knew, she was submerged in the icy water.
"Kath. . . ." Chakotay managed to get out before he too was under the frigid surface of the lake. Fortunately, they were close to shore, and the water was barely over their heads, allowing them to quickly find their footing
Chakotay's head popped up and he finished calling her name, ". . . .'Ryn!
She too came sputtering to the surface, nearly screaming, "Holy God! I think I'm going to die!" Her soaked sweater weighed her down and made walking to shore nearly impossible. She tried to pull it off but she didn't have the strength, the cold water was rapidly sapping her reserves. She managed to hang onto her paddle and the canoe, and began towing them towards the shore.
Chakotay's breath was coming in little gasps, as he fought the effects of the icy water.
" 'Ryn, " he called her again, the "Kath" part lost in his heavy breathing. "You. . .okay?"
"I. . .will. . .be," she said, her teeth chattering.
Somehow they managed to slog to the shore, collapsing on the sand. Their soaked, heavy clothing proving to be their greatest adversary.
" 'Ryn,. . .I'm . . .sorry," he tried to apologize, but she was too busy laughing to hear him.
He was still breathing hard, but at least now he could talk without the gaps in his speech. "What's so funny?"
"You," she said. "If you could see the look on your face!" She struggled not to laugh as he seemed to be getting angry, then suddenly, he too burst into laughter, falling back on the sandy shore. She started to shiver again and suggested, "I think we need to get out of these wet things, don't you?"
Chakotay's eyes twinkled at her. "Best idea you've had all day, 'Ryn," he grunted as he gave her a hand up.
"What's with the ' 'Ryn?'" she asked, shoes squishing as she stood beside him.
"Oh, I don't know," he said ducking his head, like he'd been caught spying on her or something. "Everyone else has a nick-name for you, I wanted one of my own. Do you mind?"
"No, I think it's sweet. It's kind of a strange one, but considering the source. . . ." she smiled at him, placing a cold hand on his flaming cheek.
"There weren't exactly a lot of choices left," he said. "You said your Mom calls you 'Katie,'"
"And Phoebe's got 'Goldie,'" She informed him.
"Mark had 'Kath,'" he supplied.
"The Paris' have 'Kathy,'"
"So does Cory Pedersen," he reminded her with a smile. "So that leaves me with ' 'Ryn.'"
"Is there anything *wrong* with 'Kathryn?'"
"No, but you need something less formal when you're not the Captain."
"I didn't think 'Kathryn' was," she stated, hands on her hips, challenging him.
"If you don't like it. . ."
"I didn't say that," she interrupted. "I just wonder what it is about me that hardly any one calls me by my name."
"You've got so many sides to you, I suppose one name isn't enough. Names are very sacred things you know."
"They are?" she asked, moving hands from her hips to cross her chest--another "Captain's" gesture.
"Very private," he answered, serious. "Chakotay's not my true name. It's what I go by. I guess in a sense, it's a nick-name as well."
Kathryn was intrigued, forgetting she was on the verge of hypothermia. "So what is your real name?"
Chakotay looked uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you. Even my parents don't know. It's something deeply personal, and to share it reduces its Power."
"I'm sorry I didn't mean. . ."
"It's all right," he said, pulling her into his embrace. "You didn't know, that's why I told you."
"There're so many things I don't know about you, your People," she confessed.
"There's time 'Ryn. All the time in the world." He hugged her closer, rubbing her arms to try and warm her.
"It's kind of sweet," she repeated, leaning back slightly to look up into his face.
"What is?"
"' 'Ryn.' I like it, and I like that it belongs to you." His mouth came down on hers and they shared a long, satisfying kiss. Breaking apart, Kathryn said, "We *really* need to dry off. Help me pull the canoe up on shore; I'll come back for it later."
Starting up the steps to the cabin, she suddenly started to run. "First one there gets the quilt!" she cried, running as fast as the terrain and her wet clothing would allow. She had the advantage of knowing a short cut and raced ahead of him.
"You're cheating!" he called, and poured on a burst of energy. She had a shorter distance, but he had longer strides, so they ended up reaching the cabin at the same moment. Running onto the porch, they ran for the door, shoulder to shoulder. Kathryn managed to squeeze through the opening before him and once inside, she lunged for the quilt. Chakotay practically tackled her, trying to wrestle the blanket from her.
"Stop!" she cried. She was breathless and laughing too much to get out more than a few words. ". . .getting it wet!"
Chakotay relented, and she squirmed out of his reach, standing again. "If you build us a fire, I promise I'll share!" she offered, eyes glowing.
"Do you mean the quilt or something else?" he returned.
"I guess you'll have to build a fire to find out!"
" 'Ryn, I've already got a fire burning," he growled, reaching for her.
She danced out of his reach and began removing the sodden layers of clothing, leaving a trail to the bathroom, taking the quilt with her. "That fire better be started when I get back, Commander, or you'll find yourself doing more than walking the plank!"
"I certainly hope so!" he called out to the closed door, beginning to remove his clothing as well. He started the fire in the stove, and was crouched before the tentative flames as Kathryn exited the bathroom, wrapped in her blanket. She stood silent for a moment, taking in the sight of him, naked, hunched down before the fire. She wished she was a better artist, she'd love to capture his image in some expressive medium. Phoebe had all the talent in the family were art was concerned, but she could imagine how she'd paint or sculpt him. The hard lines of his muscles accentuated by the glow of the fire. She had to swallow. He took her breath away.
"Now there's a sight you don't see every day," she said, leaning casually in the door frame.
Chakotay looked up at her, damp hair flowing around her, quilt held loosely shut with one hand. "You could," he said, rising .
His ease with his nakedness before her surprised her. Perhaps he was raised in a less formal household than she had been. She was still feeling shy around him, and she hoped that would ease over time. Although, she couldn't ever remember parading naked before Mark. She hadn't gone out of her way to hide her nudity, but she didn't flaunt it, either. Not that she thought Chakotay was acting the exhibitionist. She hoped to one day be as uninhibited as he appeared to be.
She realized she was staring at him, and stepped into the main room of the cabin. "It would be nice if we could stay here, wouldn't it?"
"I didn't necessarily mean we had to be together here," he said, not moving from his place by the stove, waiting for her to come to him. "I think you'd miss the twenty-fourth century after a day or two."
"You're right," she said, slowly advancing towards him. "Cold food gets old pretty fast." She hadn't taken he eyes from his. There was another fire in the room, burning in their depths.
She felt her hunger for him reassert itself, pushing his hints at cohabitation to the back of her mind. This was all too new to be thinking in terms like that. She wanted him, that much was certain, but she needed some time to get to know him better, and sometimes the best way to achieve that, was from a slight distance. She wanted no such distance at the moment, however, and she stepped before him, opening the quilt, inviting him in.
Chakotay took his cue from her, and joined her within the confines of the blanket, pulling her close, depositing a kiss on her shoulder.
"Gods!" he cried, "you're still freezing! Come over here, closer to the fire."
His skin felt warm to Kathryn and she wondered at how he had managed to dispel the cold so quickly. Granted he had been by the fire, but he felt warmer than that, and she found herself moving closer to him to partake of his heat.
Chakotay turned her around and seated her before him as he had on Dorvan V, wrapping the quilt around them.
"Seems you're providing this service a lot, lately," Kathryn joked, echoing his thoughts.
He smiled against her wet hair. "But on Dorvan you wouldn't let me do this," he said, bending down to kiss her neck. "Or this," he cupped her breasts, teasing her nipples to hardness. Slowly he moved his hands down, caressing her abdomen, then slid lower. "Or this," he whispered in her ear as he slid his fingers into her, circling the hardening nub.
Kathryn moaned and slid her hands over the coarse hair on his thighs, sending a new kind of shiver through them both. "You're right," she sighed. "Thank, God I wised up!"
Chakotay continued caressing her breast with his left hand, and driving her mad with his right, sliding his fingers deep within her. He felt a slight tremor, but he hadn't finished with his mission. He would continue his onslaught until she was writhing beneath his insistent hand.
Kathryn felt the tension building within her, starting as a tingle, deep inside, but rapidly moving between her legs where Chakotay's hand refused to leave. She knew she was panting, unable and unwilling to slow her breathing. She called out his name, in little gasps, pronouncing each syllable as a separate word, as the sensations threatened to overtake her. She could feel his erection pressed against her back, and wished she could move so she could bring him inside her, replacing his fingers. But he held her so tightly she couldn't escape him. Not that she wanted to. She couldn't wait for the culmination of his efforts, and at the same time, never wanted this feeling to end.
Maybe she couldn't turn around, but her hands could reach him, and she reached behind her back and slid her hand left hand along his hard shaft. Her sudden caress caught Chakotay off guard and he joined her in gasping her name. As his pace within her increased, so did Kathryn's movements. His control was beginning to dissolve, but so was hers. Soon she would slip over the edge and he would be able to follow. Paying special attention to erect tissue he found above her entrance, he felt the shock waves overtake her as she screamed his name, arching with the force of her orgasm. He chose that moment to exert some extra pressure on her nipple and bite her right ear as well.
"Oh, God!" she screamed again as another wave ripped through her. She hadn't even realized her hand on his shaft had stilled, until she gripped him with the rhythm of the contractions she felt deep inside her.
Chakotay grit his teeth. It wasn't that she had hurt him, but he was so close himself, he didn't want her rushing things. Kathryn sagged against him as the force of her climax left her. Allowing her a moment to recover, he turned her around to face him, settling her on his lap, legs straddling his hips. She ran her hands through his hair and pulled him into a passionate kiss, her tongue dancing with his. She was still breathing hard, and the kiss was broken occasionally so she could catch her breath.
"I want you," she moaned into his mouth, "inside me, now."
It was an order he wasn't about to refuse, and he shifted her slightly to plunge himself into her waiting warmth. Bracing her hands on his shoulders, he grasped her buttocks and pulled her closer. Her hot, wet confines were rapidly eating away at the last of his resistance and after only a few strokes, he found himself coming deep inside her, growling her name as he buried his face in her breasts.
They tried to still their ragged breaths, as Kathryn leaned over to kiss him. Thinking she was probably crushing his legs, she tried to move away.
"Don't go 'Ryn," he managed. "Stay with me." He held her close, not allowing her to move. Holding his head to her chest, she hugged him back, not wanting to break their contact any more than he did. She ran her hands over his back, and he returned the gesture, relieved to find her skin had returned to its normal temperature.
"If that's the prescribed method for reversing hypothermia," she said with a smile, "you can dump me into a freezing lake anytime."
"Maybe we should suggest Starfleet make it Standard Operating Procedure," he returned, grinning himself. "You know the worst of it is, I never did get a chance to see that loon."
"Let me up," she said. When he didn't release her, she promised, "I'll be right back."
Reluctantly, he watched her move away from him, and he immediately missed her presence. How was it possible for her to become a part of him in such a short time? Looking at an old-style chronometer, he noticed he'd only been at the cabin a little over six hours, and already she seemed so interconnected with him, it was if she'd always been in his life. He was glad they hadn't made love on Dorvan V, as much as he wanted to at the time. He couldn't imagine how he would have gone on if she had returned home to continue her wedding plans with Mark. It had been hard enough as it was, to let her go, not having known her in an intimate way.
Now all that had changed. He didn't know what had caused her to "see the light," but whatever or whomever it was, he thanked the Gods. He watched her go to a bookshelf across the room, searching the shelves for the volume she wanted, wrapped in the quilt. His eyes wandered around the cabin as he waited for her to find what she was after. The rough log walls were sparsely decorated, mostly with items the occupants might use. Fishing poles, and a landing net, extra paddles for the canoe, an ancient-looking calendar, again made of paper, and showing the year in months, rather than stardates.
The cabin was one large room, except for the small bathroom and sleeping loft. He imagined the loft had been Kathryn and Phoebe's domain as children, and the bed they recently shared, had been their parents.
There was a small wooden table and four chairs, made of rough-hewn wood, presumably by the person who had constructed the cabin. The wood stove completed the furnishings, and was along the western wall in the middle of the room, probably to distribute its heat more evenly. Although, Kathryn said they'd only spent their summers here, and most likely there was no need for additional heat.
Chakotay watched Kathryn as she crossed back to him, a look of triumph on her face.
"I knew there had to be a book on them somewhere," she said, settling back down into his embrace. She resumed her former position with her back to his chest, as she showed him the book. "North American Waterfowl" was the title he read, before she opened the volume, to a picture of a black and white aquatic bird.
"That's a loon," she said. "Maybe if we're lucky, he'll come back and you can hear what they sound like again. Didn't he make the most wonderful sound?" she commented. "A little lonely sometimes, but there's just nothing like hearing their calls echoing across the lake."
"This place is like a museum," he observed, turning the pages of her book to get another view of the bird. "Straight out of the twentieth century."
"I think maybe that's when the cabin was built. Dad used to tell us stories about the Janeway who built it, but I don't remember much about him now. Actually, Dad was in on the beginnings of the problems with Cardassia, and he wasn't able to spend much time here with us. Usually just a day here or there. I don't think my mother had planned on being a single parent, but it almost ended up that way. She was good, though. Always made sure we had what we needed, whether it were emotional or physical."
She turned to look at him. "I guess we're both fortunate in that regard. To have families that care for us."
"I can't imagine my life with out them," Chakotay agreed. "My father would like it here," he noted. "From what you've told me about your dad, I think they would have gotten along great. Kolopak would have been especially been impressed that your father honored his ancestors in this way."
"I wish I'd had a chance to know your father before the Cardassian threat," Kathryn said. "I can see what a toll this impending war is taking on your family."
Chakotay didn't reply, he only nodded against her head, and hugged her tighter.
"How did we get on such a serious topic, anyway?" Kathryn asked, standing up, now heedless of her state of undress. "I'm going to get dressed, then I'm going to put the canoe away," she announced.
"Want some help?" he offered.
"Thanks, but I think I can get it. I could use a minute to myself. Do you mind?"
"Of course not, I just feel kind of useless. If you need some time, why don't you stay here and I'll put the boat away?"
Kathryn contemplated his offer. The boat *was* kind of heavy, and he'd probably have an easier time of it than she did. It was hard for her to admit he was better suited to the task, but then she heard "Captain Janeway" step in and order her to "delegate." It had always been the toughest part of command for her, to ask someone to do something she was perfectly capable of doing herself.
"Thanks, Chakotay. I'd appreciate that."
She was searching for some dry clothes when she realized he had only what he'd arrived in. "Not that I don't appreciate the 'natural look,'" she said with a grin, "but I think we should see if there's something here that will fit you. The neighbors might get more than they bargained for!"
"I thought you said you were the only one here."
"I don't know that for a fact. Besides, wouldn't you get just a *little* chilly?" she asked.
"I'll think of you," he said, helping her pull a shirt over her head. When she poked her head through the neck hole, he gave her a quick kiss. "It's working already," he grinned at her.
Refusing to take his bait, she looked through the drawers until she found an old shirt and pants of her father's. It was hard not to look at the clothing without conjuring images of her parent, but at least the clothes weren't Mark's. That would have been worse. As if Chakotay suspected the same thing, she reassured him,
"They were my father's."
He donned the clothes and held out his arms. The sleeves were way too short, but the pants fit.
"You're a little broader than dad was, but they'll do until yours dry," she smiled. Aside from the fit, he looked good in the red and black plaid, and the khaki pants. "You would have fit right into that era," she noted.
"If the clothes would fit," he sighed, heading out the door. Kathryn followed him out on to the porch and watched him descend the steps to the lake. It was so strange to see her father's shirt stretched tight across Chakotay's back, but a nice melding of the two men as well.
"Don't forget the bag we took our lunch in!" she called out to him.
"Nag, nag, nag," he teased her, not bothering to turn around to look at her. In a voice loud enough to make sure she heard, he added, "sleep with a woman once and she thinks she owns you!"
"It was twice, in case you forgot!" she called back, laughing as she re-entered the cabin.
God she--what, loved him?--was that what her mind was going to say? She picked up the quilt and straightened the bed. She was trying to avoid the thought she had upon returning to the small room.
*Okay, Kathryn, out with it*, she said to herself. *This is the "real" reason you wanted to be alone, isn't it? To analyze your feelings for him? There's that word again, analyze. Break everything down into a simple formula and everything will fall into its proper place*. But there was no simple formula where they were concerned. How could she possibly think she was in love with Chakotay when she knew so little about him?
But didn't she know all she needed to know? He was a man of integrity, honesty, compassion, loyalty, all the things she found attractive in a person, but Mark possessed those qualities as well. She felt she loved Mark, and yet the feelings she had towards Chakotay were even more intense. Did time really have a bearing on that? Just because she hadn't known Chakotay since elementary school, did that make her feelings any less valid?
She had chosen Chakotay over Mark, hadn't she? Or was it the pressure of marriage, again? Was it that Chakotay came with no strings attached? What if everything was equal, no marriage on the horizon, would she still choose Chakotay? Right now, she'd have to say yes. So did that mean she loved him?
Kathryn walked back outside, taking a seat in the chair she had occupied earlier. Was it only this morning he had come? It truly felt like a lifetime ago. When she woke up this morning she was trying to decide if she should consider seeing him, and now she was trying to decide what she would say if he brought up the idea of living with her. He hadn't come right out and said it earlier, but his meaning was clear. Regardless if she were in love with Chakotay or not, she was not ready to move in, lock, stock and barrel, as they used to say, into Chakotay's life, or allow him to do the same to her. He might misunderstand her intentions, but she needed some time on her own. To not have to constantly worry about keeping up with someone else's schedule, and not to have to worry about being late for someone else's commitments. To take the time to do what she wanted.
Not that it didn't go both ways. Mark had to put up with a lot from her as well. Attending Starfleet functions, accepting she would be off in space, sometimes for months at a time, on short notice.
She was drifting from her original question again. Did she love Chakotay? The best answer she could give herself at this point was: The jury's still out.
*********
Chakotay lugged the canoe into the boat house, but left it easily accessible. He liked to think he'd have a chance to share a ride with Kathryn again, maybe when the water was warmer. Maybe now that it wasn't behind the sailboat, perhaps Phoebe would use it as well.
He'd like to meet her, get to know Kathryn's sister better. Maybe they could all come here, before they shipped out on *Voyager;* it would be a great send off.
He walked to the end of the dock and sat down. It hadn't taken him long to replace the canoe, and he wanted to give Kathryn a little more time. It didn't take a stellar physicist to figure out why she wanted some solitude. He'd given her a lot to think about. Truly, he had no intentions of becoming intimate with her when he arrived.
What *had* he expected? To see that she were all right, certainly. But if he were honest, as he wanted her to be, wasn't he hoping this would happen? Wasn't it really in the back of his mind all along? He hadn't planned an actual seduction, but that didn't mean he hadn't taken the opportunity when it arose! Maybe he should have left when he'd had the opportunity. Maybe he shouldn't have encouraged her after he'd stopped her the first time. But he had, and there was no going back, and he couldn't say he was sorry. Unless, in his haste to make her his, he'd scared her off. She didn't *act* like she was scared, but what if after her little "heart-to-heart" with herself, she decided she didn't want him?
He couldn't think that way. She cared about him as he did her. They were of one mind, one spirit. Surely she must realize that now? He had been apprehensive about declaring his love for her with the actual words. If he was so sure about her feelings for him, why didn't he say them?
Because he knew he *wasn't* totally sure. There was still that nagging doubt that she would prefer her life with Mark over him. That just as "easily" as she left Mark, she could leave him. So what did he want from her? A confession? A commitment? He didn't know what it was he expected. For now he'd have to be content with what she offered him. If he pushed too hard, there was no doubt in his mind he'd loose her.
The sun had set and the sky was streaked with orange and red. Just as he turned to leave, he saw a black and white bird land in the open water, several meters from the dock. It tipped its head back and released a haunting cry. Kathryn was right, it was a most wonderful sound.
Slowly, he walked up the steps, carrying the shoulder bag. He wasn't sure what he'd find when he returned, and so was slightly nervous in his approach. Smoke pouring out of the cabin door wasn't what he expected. Thinking the cabin was on fire, he rushed inside, calling her name.
"Kathryn! Where are you?"
"I'm right here," she answered, agitated and choking on the smoke. Chakotay grabbed the pan from the stove and took it outside.
"What were you doing?" he asked, his tone sounding as if he were scolding a child.
"I was trying to make dinner," she said, an embarrassed flush staining her cheeks.
He moved around the cabin, opening windows, hoping to disperse the smoke lingering in the room. "Do me a favor," he said. "Stick to commanding Starships and leave the cooking to me!"
Kathryn looked as if she were about to cry. "I'm sorry, I was just trying to help, and I ruined the last of the food I brought."
"Oh, 'Ryn. It's okay!" he said, drawing her close, hugging her. But as she wound her arms around him, the tears did come.
"I want to go home! I'm tired of the twentieth century! I want a replicator! I want a transporter! I want a hover-car! I want to see a stack of PADD's and no paper!"
Chakotay laughed at her tirade. "Usually it's the other way around! Okay, we'll go. After we clean up this mess!"
He was surprised at her sudden desire to leave. "Is it because of me?"
"Is what because of you?" she asked, pulling back from him, wiping at her eyes.
"You're wanting to leave? Because if it is, I can just go, I can. . ."
"Chakotay! No!" she took his hands in hers. "I came here to sort things out, and well, they kind of sorted themselves out."
He looked at her, confused.
"You're going to make me spell this out, aren't you?" she sighed, and led him to table to sit down. She began to pace before him. He was beginning to recognize a pattern with her, and it was almost comforting.