NODA
Neither one accomplished much the rest of the morning. If he wasn't watching her, she'd find herself staring at him. Finally, at 13:30, Kathryn announced they had better leave if they wanted to make that appointment on time.
Even though they walked a respectable distance apart, they both felt the current traveling between them. Three and a half hours of eye tag and secret smiles had been more than enough foreplay for both of them.
Kathryn had barely accessed the code to her door, when he captured her and pulled her inside, his mouth instantly on hers. She returned his ardor with a fevered kiss of her own, tugging at his uniform as he was working on hers. They separated long enough to remove boots and turtlenecks, the most restrictive of their garments.
Chakotay's jumpsuit and underwear lay around his ankles as he pulled one leg from Kathryn's uniform. It was all that was necessary for her to lock her legs around his waist, he wasn't about to waste any time. Burning out of control, he pushed her up against the wall, lifting her slight weight to thrust deep inside her. The last coherent thought Kathryn had was hitting a panel to close the door.
They both came quickly, their breathing still labored even as they started to relax. He continued to hold her against the wall; it was only his support that kept her standing. She kissed him again, but with none of the desperation from moments ago,
Chakotay pulled her close and warned, "Don't you ever do that to me again! I think that's some kind of record for the longest I've had an erection! It's a good thing I didn't have to work with Harry today. I don't thing I could have held a PADD at my waist all day without causing some suspicion!"
"You poor thing," she crooned, caressing his face. "Do you think it was any easier for me? Thank God these uniforms are black!"
He let her away from the wall, taking her hand. "What do you say we remedy the situation further? I want to make love to you for the rest of the afternoon." Chakotay emphasized his point by planting a kiss on her collarbone, sending shivers through her. He knew the effect he had on her, and used it to his advantage. As if she needed any persuasion!
"I believe Mr. Touca needs to be fully de-briefed," she said with a smile, glancing down at the crumpled clothing at Chakotay's feet. "But apparently it's already begun."
Kicking off the rest of his clothes, leaving them where they landed, he raced her to the bedroom.
*********
It was dark outside, causing Kathryn to wonder about the time. She had drifted off to sleep after what seemed hours of lovemaking. Now, wide awake, she studied Chakotay in his sleep. He looked so peaceful. Her thoughts turned to Mark at that moment, and she allowed herself the comparison. She had never felt like this with him, and it was that thought that bothered her the most. Mark had given so much of himself to her, and she had returned so little. At the time she believed she loved him, as a woman should love a man, but since she had known Chakotay, he had shown her the true meaning of love. Deep, passionate, never-ending love. Kathryn was still a little overcome by the enormity of her emotions, and Chakotay's for her as well. Just before he succumbed to sleep, Chakotay had pulled her close and whispered:
"I think I'm finally beginning to believe in my people's spirituality."
Her eyes had questioned him.
"I didn't think it was possible to love someone this much in just one lifetime," he had said. Her eyes had filled with unshed tears, speechless in the face of such utter devotion.
Thinking of it now, she felt her throat constricting. Poor Mark He had tried so hard to make her happy. And he would have. She would have been content enough with their relationship had she not experienced the depth of her feelings for Chakotay. It was like she had been living her life, seeing everything in black and white, and suddenly having color added to her perceptions. She wished there were some way to convey all she was feeling for him, but she'd never been very good at expressing her deepest emotions, hoping her actions spoke for themselves.
Chakotay stirred beside her. Waking to find her staring at him, he wondered at the expression on her face. It was almost one of sorrow.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Nothing," she said, giving him a quick kiss. "I just really love you," she managed. Knowing it in no way told him what he meant to her.
"It looks like it hurts," he teased.
"Only because it sounds so trite."
"Hearing 'I love you,' could never become trite, especially coming from you." Chakotay said, pulling her close. He held her until he was suddenly overcome by a burst of energy. Leaping from the bed he said, "I need to take a shower. Care to join me?" he added, swiftly changing the subject.
Momentarily taken aback at his abrupt change, she said, "maybe in a minute; I want to lay here for a bit yet."
"Okay," he said, "but don't blame me if you don't get any hot water!"
Kathryn lay back down, listening to the sound of Chakotay singing in the shower. He wasn't very good, but she didn't have the heart to tell him. It only meant that he was happy; she didn't want to destroy his mood. Occasionally she'd catch a phrase or two. It was something in his native tongue; she failed to recognize it, but the tune sounded as if it were a love song.
In the middle of his singing, Kathryn heard a signal from the computer, informing her of an incoming message. Rising from the bed, she crossed to her terminal and found the message was for Chakotay. She was surprised, as he'd received only one message since he'd moved in with her. That had been from his sister, Kinma. She assumed this was also a communication from home, since no one in Starfleet knew to send him personal mail at her house.
It was a message only, not a two-way transmission, so she saved it for him to read when he exited the shower. It wasn't long before he left the bathroom, quietly humming the tune he had been singing.
"Your turn," he said, tightening the towel around his waist. Rising to replace him in the bathroom, she turned back and said,
"Oh, a message came for you while you were busy perfecting your vocal technique."
A small smile curled his mouth. He knew he couldn't carry a tune to save his soul, but he enjoyed trying. "Who's it from?" he asked.
"I don't read other people's mail!" she cried indignantly. "You'll have to look for yourself."
Chakotay heard the sound of running water as he accessed the message. He too was curious who would contact him at Kathryn's. It must be someone in his family, and he waited eagerly to see who it was from.
The image on the screen dashed his hopes when he saw the expression on her face. His mother's face was drawn, dark circles rimmed her eyes; it was evident she had been crying. Quite a lot from her appearance.
"Chakotay, " his mother said. Her voice was hoarse, no doubt from all the tears she'd shed. The tone of Petala's voice had a quality he'd rarely heard from her. That she could convey such total despair with just his name was amazing.
"I'm sorry I have to make this call," she continued. "It's your father. Kolopak was killed on a raid this morning." His mother had never been one to belittle the facts, but the bluntness of her words left him stunned.
His father, dead? He always thought there would be so much time! That someday he and his father would come to terms with his choice of Starfleet; finally achieve a true relationship. But all that was gone now. And what of his mother and his sisters? Who would look after them? Not that they weren't capable of taking care of themselves, but Kolopak was their foundation, their strength. And the villagers? He had been a spiritual father to them as well. How would they deal with this loss?
In his musings, Chakotay failed to hear the rest of his mother's message. Calling for the computer to replay the transmission, he paid closer attention this time.
"I know you have your obligations at Starfleet," his mother said, "but we need you. Can you come home? Arrangements need to be made. We all could use your support right now. Chakotay, you know I wouldn't ask this of you if it weren't important. Things are chaotic here, I was barely able to get this message out, so I won't be able to receive any incoming transmissions. I'm sorry I had to tell you this way, but there was no other way. I expect to see you soon."
The screen went as blank as Chakotay's features. He couldn't begin to process the information he'd just received. His father, killed in a raid. His mother insisting upon his return. *Voyager's* shake-down cruise days away. Kathryn. Where did his priorities and loyalties lie?
He remembered reading the intelligence report about the raid that must have been the one that killed Kolopak. Had his involvement contributed to his death? If he hadn't used the information, someone else would have. But at least his conscience would be clear. Suddenly he felt nauseous. Perhaps he hadn't been directly responsible for his father's death, but how many of his followers had he sent to the grave? The Maquis were fighting the Cardassians, but the freedom fighters were considered outlaws by the Federation as well. It was a situation he found ironic. The Federation was also threatened by the Cardassians. And yet, they considered the Maquis the enemy, when they should have been supporting their cause. He'd always felt this way, but blindly followed Federation policy that had been ingrained in him at the Academy. He was no better than a Borg drone--point him in the right direction and tell him to kill.
"Chakotay?" Kathryn called, but he didn't respond; he was too lost in his thoughts. It wasn't until she touched his shoulder and spoke his name again that he responded by jumping; turning around to look at her. The haunted look on his face spoke volumes.
"What is it?" she asked, feeling a bubble of panic rise within her.
"My father," he croaked. His throat was so dry, he could barely speak. Kathryn got him a glass of water and waited for him to elaborate.
"The message. It was from my mother." She was surprised at his formality. He always called Petala *Ina*, his people's term for "mother." "My father was killed on a raid."
"Oh, Chakotay," she cried, taking him within her arms. "I'm *so* sorry! The rest of your family?"
"They're all right. For now. I have to go to them. My mother insisted."
"Of course!" she agreed, already mentally arranging their schedules so they could return to Dorvan V. "I'm sure Admiral Nechayev will understand and give us some time off."
Chakotay looked up at her. "Please don't misunderstand me, 'Ryn, but I have to do this by myself." He took her hands and squeezed them gently. "Besides, the whole area is pretty unstable right now. I don't want you in that kind of danger."
"Chakotay, it won't be any safer for you! I want to be with you! You shouldn't have to go through this alone!"
"I won't be alone. I have my family," he assured her. "Anyway, you have *Voyager* to see to."
"How long will you be gone?" she asked, suddenly nervous that he wouldn't return in time to join her on the ship.
"I don't know for sure, but I will certainly be back as soon as I can. I don't want to miss my shot at *Voyager*, you know that," he told her, as if he'd read her thoughts.
Kathryn wiped the stray tears from her eyes. Tears for him, for his father, his family; for the fact that even now she missed him. He was acting so strangly, so distant; it was as if he'd already left her.
"I have to pack, " he said, distracted by the myriad thoughts running through his mind.
Kathryn helped him gather his belongings in silence. She wanted to include something of herself with his items and chose one of her hair clasps, wondering how she was going to go back to dressing her own hair while he was gone. It was such a silly thought to have at that moment. Chakotay was leaving her to travel into a military hot bed, to face his family, his past, and all she could think of was her damn hair! But it was easier than thinking of the danger he was placing himself in.
"I think that's everything," he announced. She noticed he'd changed into clothes similar to those he had worn on his last visit to his homeworld. He took her hand and walked with her into the living room. At their entrance, Molly raised her head, wagging her tail slightly. She had taken up residence on his cast-off uniform, causing Chakotay to find a smile in his misery.
Placing his case on the floor, he reached out to pet the dog's head. "Take care of her, girl," he said, standing. He took Kathryn in his arms.
"Gods, I miss you already," he said, echoing her earlier thoughts.
"Me too. I'll call Nechayev. Explain the situation and arrange for you to take a Runabout. It'll get you there faster than the public transports, and probably be safer, too."
"Thank you." he said simply. He tightened his hold on her, then kissed her for one long moment. It wasn't the passionate kiss they had shared in the room hours before, but it held the same promise.
"I love you, Kathryn. What ever happens, don't ever forget that. You've given my life such meaning. A clarity I've never had before. We'll never be separate again."
His words had such a finality to them, he was scaring her. Was he anticipating problems? It was almost as if he thought he'd never see her again. She clung to him until he extricated himself from her arms.
"I have to go," he barely whispered.
"I know," she said, stepping back so he could retrieve his travel case. "Call me as soon as you can, okay? And tell your family how sorry I am for their loss."
"I will," he promised.
" "I love you. Hurry back."
"I love you, too," he said, brushing a hand one last time over her cheek, taking her tears with his thumb. Then, suddenly, he was gone.
*********
Continued in Segment 2