Chakotay arrived at the hotel where the party was being held, a little after eight. The invitation had said 20:00 sharp, so he figured a little tardiness would ensure enough of a crowd that he wouldn't make a scene by entering. All around him were couples entering the building, most dressed in uniforms, but some civilians as well. Gods, he was nervous! Not that he was alone, or even that he was back on a planet, but that he had to attend a gathering of this magnitude. He never realized how lucky he was to be an officer on a ship, as opposed to one assigned to Starfleet HQ, on a permanent basis. Although the confines of a ship made for close quarters, it was nothing like the claustrophobia he felt in the crowded banquet hall. Searching the crowd for any familiar face, he spotted Admiral Nechayev talking with a group of high-ranking members from Headquarters.
*Might as well get it over with*, he thought, approaching the beckoning Admiral.
"Commander Chakotay! I'm so glad you could come!" she crowed, as if his appearance was a surprise and not an order.
"Admiral," he said, nodding to her.
"Gentlemen, this is Commander Chakotay, the man I was just telling you about. He's scheduled to be the First Officer aboard *Voyager*". A round of well-wishes was exchanged as he found himself scanning the room for the Captain. It was she he really wanted to talk to, especially now that he'd put in his appearance with Nechayev.
Chakotay interjected a phrase here and there, attempting to appear as if he were engaged in the conversation, as he continued to visually sweep the room. He didn't see Janeway. Could she have gotten out of it somehow? He looked towards the entrance and saw her enter. With all the uniforms around, it was difficult to distinguish any one, but she was hard to miss, especially with her hair hanging down in a casual manner that quietly thumbed her nose at the convention and formality of the gathering. It took him a moment to realize she was accompanied by the man next to her. Equally resplendent in his tuxedo, Chakotay surmised this was the fianc�, Mark. They made a handsome couple, no doubt about it. He tried to extricate himself from the Admiral, but she kept him engaged in a stream of polite conversation that didn't allow him an avenue of respectful escape. Finally, he'd had enough.
"Excuse me, Admiral, but I see Captain Janeway, and I need to have a word with her."
"Of course, Commander," she'd barely gotten out before Chakotay was halfway across the room.
"Mark, there's Commander Chakotay," Kathryn said pointing to the man heading in their direction. "I'd like you to meet him."
Somewhere in the middle they met, and Kathryn noted a look of relief on his face.
Seeing the path he'd made through the crowd, her eyes followed to where he had come from. Now the pained look on his face made sense. Nechayev. She wondered how long he'd made it talking to her.
"Captain, " he said, almost rushing up to her and her partner.
"Commander. I see you've been talking to Nechayev."
"How did you. . . "
"It was the combination bee-line/look of horror," she laughed, "I've seen that look before."
He allowed himself a smile and said, "I hope I wasn't that obvious to her."
"I wouldn't worry. She's not terribly perceptive when it comes to observations about herself."
He was shocked by her candor. Granted this was an off-duty gathering, but someone could over-hear and report her to the Admiral.
Mark cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to him. "Oh, I'm sorry. Mark, this is Commander Chakotay, Commander, Mark Johnson."
"Commander," Mark said, offering his hand. "Is Chakotay a first name or last?"
"Um, neither, I guess, or both. It's all I go by," he said, returning the man's handshake. He had a strong, confident grip.
"Will you gentlemen excuse me? I see Admiral Paris, and I'd like to say 'hello.'" As she wandered off, Mark explained Paris was her ex-Commanding Officer, and continued to be a family friend.
"Kath speaks very highly of you, Chakotay," Mark said, deliberately calling him by his given name rather than his rank.
"I'm flattered, since we just met. I haven't really had much of a chance to talk to the Captain. I was hoping to get an opportunity this evening," Chakotay said, his voice betraying some disappointment.
"You'll get your chance," Mark assured him. "She has a definite pattern. First thing she does is rush off and touch base with her friends, then she ends up circling back. We've been through this enough times for me to know."
Chakotay found himself envying the man that knew her so well. Maybe in time he would be able to predict her patterns as well. He found himself somewhat surprised by his instant attraction to the Captain. She had impressed him earlier, during the meeting, by asking intelligent and thought provoking questions, and he was looking forward to getting to know her better.
"I hate to be rude, but I see the Ambassador from Risa. I'm giving a speech there next week and I'd like to clarify a few things with him. Will you excuse me?"
"Of course. Nice to have met you," he said. And he meant it. He didn't know anyone in San Francisco, and the Captain and her fianc� seemed like good candidates for friends.
**********
"Kathryn!" Owen Paris called out, seeing her head in his direction. "What did Nechayev threaten you with this time to get you to come?"
"Admiral Paris! I'm shocked! There was no bribe involved, once I heard you would be attending, that is!"
"Always the smooth talker," he smiled at her. "How've you been, Kathryn?" He asked giving her a peck on the cheek.
"Good," she said, lightly touching his arm. "Really good. I've got a new job, you know."
"So I've heard. But not an enviable one," he said, taking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, handing her one as well.
"It's only temporary. Just until *Voyager* is ready. I meant to thank you, by the way, for your recommendation."
Owen bowed his head slightly, accepting her gratitude. "It was the least I could do. Besides, you more than made up for it by requesting Tom as your Conn Officer."
"Where *is* he anyway? I don't think I've seen him since you and Marie had us over for dinner, and that's been almost a year ago now."
"Oh, he's around somewhere, no doubt looking for trouble." He spoke the words with forced humor. Obviously he expected Tom to find himself in a situation.
"And speaking of a year ago," he said, turning the tables on her, "I thought you told me then you were getting ready to set a date. I've never known you to drag your feet on anything! What seems to be the problem, Captain?" He asked, assuming his command voice.
"I like my life the way it is! Sir!" She responded in kind. They both laughed at their mock-protocol, and she said, "seriously Owen, I hate to set a date, and then have it pushed back when missions suddenly pop-up. It's not fair to Mark."
"What's not fair to Mark, is making him wait. There's never going to be a 'good' time, Kathryn. Marry the man, and put him out of his misery!"
She smiled, and said, "I'll see what I can do."
"Good. Now, is your new assistant here?"
"Yes," she said, pointing out Chakotay across the room.
"Handsome man," Paris said, taking a drink from his glass. "He's not going to give Mark a run for his money, is he?"
"Don't be ridiculous! I love Mark, I don't even notice other men!"
"You're engaged, Kathryn, not dead."
"Owen, are you trying to start something with me? Just because I haven't set a date. . ."
"It was just an observation, Kate. Don't get your feathers all ruffled." She didn't have to wonder where his son had picked up his love of the twentieth century. The Admiral's speech pattern was punctuated by more clich�s, than a Ferengi had Latinum, she thought to herself (adding a clich� of her own).
As if Chakotay had heard them discussing him, his eyes found hers. He smiled slightly as they exchanged glances, not a shy look, exactly, but an engaging one, nonetheless.
"Will you excuse me, Owen? I see Tom and I'd like to say 'hi' to him before he's off somewhere again." He nodded, as if dismissing her. She smiled at the involuntary Admiral-ish gesture as she wound her way through the crowd, coming up behind the sandy-haired young man. She grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. She knew the action probably hurt, but she wasn't going to hold him for long. Lowering her voice, she whispered in his ear, speaking Italian.
"Where's my Latinum, Paris? You think I wasn't going to find out where you'd disappeared to, flyboy?" Tom sputtered at the sudden attack, wondering who it was he owed money to, realizing it could be anyone, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember an Italian woman.
"I don't have it on me, of course, but if you give me an hour, I can come up with it!"
"You have no idea who you're dealing with," Janeway said, the double meaning of her words not lost on the startled young man. Tom's friend's expressions had gone from shock to amused grins as they noticed the woman threatening Tom wore a Starfleet dress uniform.
"Uh, actually, no," Tom said, trying to alleviate some of the pressure on his arm and face his accuser. Janeway couldn't keep a straight face any longer, and released him. "Kathy!" he cried incredulously. Recovering quickly, he said, "where did you learn to speak Italian?" She burst into a fresh round of laughter, and clapped the man on the shoulder, as if she were teasing a younger brother.
"That's 'Captain Kathy' to you, Lieutenant! How've you been, Tom?"
"I was doing better before you gave me a heart attack! You seem awfully relaxed for this anal-retentive gathering," he said, helping himself to two glasses of champagne, keeping both for himself.
"You hit the nail on the head," she said. "Why don't you let me have one of those; it seems you've had enough of Starfleet's hospitality for one evening."
"I had enough of 'Starfleet's hospitality' a *long* time ago," he said, trying not to sway where he stood. Me and the guys are going to beam over to Paris and visit Sandrine's for some pool. Care to join us?"
"Thanks, but no. I've got some official mingling to do, and I can hardly leave Mark here to face the wolves. But I promise, I'll give you a chance to win back what you lost before *Voyager* heads out."
"You've got a deal. Hey, who's the big guy over there who keeps staring at you?" Kathryn followed Tom's line of sight and saw Chakotay watching her. As if he were caught doing something illicit, Chakotay quickly looked away.
"Commander Chakotay," she said. "He's going to be the First Officer on* Voyager*, but he's working as my assistant for now."
"I hope he's friendlier than he looks," Tom said.
*********
Kathryn stopped in the restroom to check her make-up. After three glasses of champagne, she was sure her lipstick needed touching up. As she came up to a bank of mirrors, she caught the conversation of two women, performing the same task she had come for.
". . . I don't know who he is. If I remember rank insignia right, I think he's a Commander, or something." The woman was dressed in a revealing cocktail dress, obviously *not* Starfleet issue. Her companion, also dressed in non-regulation clothing, was considerably more conservative than her friend.
"Did you see anyone with him? I'd ask him to dance, but I don't want to be attacked by a disgruntled date."
"Not that I could tell. God he has fabulous eyes!" the first woman said.
"Eyes, hell! What about that smile?" from the second.
"You're right. I'd say the whole package is pretty sweet!" The two broke into girlish giggles as they continued discussing the man's attributes.
Kathryn smiled listening to the women gush over the unsuspecting male. Sometimes she was so grateful to have Mark! Listening to snatches of their conversation she caught the words, "dark skin," and "black hair with just the right amount of gray." Suddenly, realization dawned on her. The were talking about Chakotay! She was so shocked, she almost placed a red streak across her cheek. She found herself laughing as the women exited, in search of their prey. Should she warn him? Or stand back and watch the women move in for the kill? Would Chakotay welcome their attention, or be embarrassed? Quickly stroking on her lipstick, she left the restroom to intercept Chakotay before the vultures descended.
"Commander," she said, coming up behind him, "care to dance?"
Startled by her sudden reappearance, he almost spilled his champagne. "I'd like that very much," he said, recovering smoothly. He lead her to the dance floor and pulled her effortlessly into his arms, trying not to think about how well she seemed to fit.
"I must admit, I had an ulterior motive in asking you to dance," she confessed.
"Oh?"
"See those women over there?" she said, nodding to the two civilians at the edge of the dance floor. She hoped they didn't recognized her from the bathroom, but figured her uniform guaranteed she'd blend into the crowd.
"The tall one with hardly anything on?"
"Yes, and the shorter one next to her with the dark hair," she pointed out.
"What about them?" he asked, smoothly leading her in a waltz. She was so wrapped up it her tale, she didn't notice how well they moved together. She and Mark rarely danced because she always tried to lead, and so did he. She hadn't realized she'd allowed Chakotay to completely dictate the direction of their movements.
"Let's just say I overheard them while I was freshening up, and if you were a meal, you would have been devoured by now."
Chakotay choked as a laugh escaped him. "You're not serious? You are!" he said, noting her expression. He laughed again, an embarrassed chuckle that caused him to duck his head shyly. "I didn't know women discussed such things in public."
"You'd be surprised. Think you men have a corner on 'locker room talk?'"
He smiled again. "Thank you for rescuing me, Captain. You know, among my people, if you save someone, your life belongs to them." Janeway suddenly stopped dancing. She saw the half serious look in his eyes. Was he teasing her, or did he mean something by it? He couldn't be serious, she reasoned. After all, they had only just met. He was probably just trying to get a rise out of her.
"I think I sufficiently saved you from their clutches," she said, feeling her cheeks begin to color. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I should go find Mark."
"Of course. Thank you for the dance."
Chakotay watched her leave the dance floor. He'd been watching her most of the evening, he realized. He hadn't been trying to spy on her, or make her uncomfortable; she was one of the few people in the room he knew, aside from his introduction to Mark. He had watched the easy way she chatted with Owen Paris, one of the most notorious intractable Admirals at 'Fleet Headquarters. And then her playfulness with the young man who bore a resemblance to the Admiral. His son, perhaps? He'd watched her all evening and hadn't seen the same woman twice.
Why did he feel such a pull towards her? Ever since their handshake, earlier that day, he found himself thinking about her. Wondering at her many facets. He'd been under the command of women before, and he hadn't been in space so long that it was simple lust attracting him to her. If that were the case, he would have asked one or both of the women whom Janeway had said were interested, to dance. He was surprised it had embarrassed him. He should have had some snappy comeback, but instead, under her scrutiny, he felt awkward. They had moved well about the dance floor, truly as one being, as dancing was meant to be, and he hadn't realized how good she felt in his arms until she was gone, fleeing to her fianc�. He felt like a kid with a crush, unreasonably jealous of a man he had just met, because Mark had her, and he didn't. It had to be the combination of the wine, the over-crowding and nerves over his new position, he rationalized, and decided to take his leave, before he embarrassed himself with his sophomoric behavior.
Issuing a quick apology to Admiral Nechayev for his early departure, he bid the Captain and Mark an equally brief farewell, leaving Kathryn even more curious about her new assistant.
*********
Chakotay surveyed his new "command." The office he was to share with Janeway was on the western side of Headquarters, rewarding him again with a spectacular view of the ocean. Her desk was before the large expanse of windows, while his smaller work space faced the panorama.
There was an outer office with another desk, which at the moment, was unstaffed. Either the position hadn't been filled, or the occupant was late. Just then the Captain came through the door, weighted down with PADDs.
"Let me help you with those," he offered, crossing the room in time to catch one of the data units before it hit the floor.
"Thank you," she said, dropping her armload on her desk. "You'd think they could have just downloaded all this onto my terminal."
"I suppose this way there's less chance of someone gaining access to the information," he offered. Starfleet's computers were infamous for their security, but there was always a way to get information, if someone wanted it badly enough.
"I probably left a trail, like bread crumbs, from Nechayev's office," she smiled, coming around her desk to begin trying to make sense of the disarray.
"I noticed a desk in the outer office. Does the 'assistant' get an assistant?"
"Yes, " she said, slightly distracted with her perusal of the PADDs. "I'm surprised he's not here yet." Looking up, she saw the young man enter their office. "I must have spent too much time on Betazed," she quipped, glancing at Chakotay, "I seem to be getting psychic."
Chakotay suppressed a smile as the confused Ensign looked from one officer to the other.
"Never mind," Janeway said. "Harry Kim?"
"Yes, Sir!"
"At ease, Ensign, before you sprain something. And I know most of the women in Starfleet prefer 'sir,' but I don't." It wasn't a reprimand, but the junior officer took it as such.
"Ma'am?" he offered.
"Ma'am will do in a crunch, but I prefer 'Captain.'"
"Yes, Ma'am!" he replied, snapping to attention once more.
"It's not crunch time, Mr. Kim. I'll let you know when. This is Commander Chakotay," she said, introducing the man standing next to her. "You'll be reporting to him as his assistant.
"Sir," Harry said, extending his hand.
"Ensign Kim," Chakotay replied, returning the gesture. "Why don't you get settled in, and after I've had some time to coordinate things with the Captain, we'll have a briefing." Harry nodded and headed for the outer room, grateful to be separated from the Senior officers. This was his first posting, and then to be late, on top of it. Fortunately they hadn't called him on it. He had several excuses lined up, should they ask, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember a single one of them.
Back in the Captain's office, Janeway offered Chakotay something to drink.
"Maybe some tea," he said, sorting through the stack of PADDs she had placed before him.
"You're going to tackle that," she said, with a nod to the work before him, "without caffeine? I assure you, coffee will diminish the work by half."
A grin lit up his face. "Okay, you win. Coffee it is. I never had much of a taste for it, but I have a feeling working with you is going to be an education."
"I hope you meant that in the nicest possible way," she said, retrieving two mugs of coffee and an insulated pot from the replicator.
"Of course I did," his smile turning to one of almost child-like innocence.
"You know, Commander, there used to be an old phrase about someone who was so smooth, they could sell refrigerators to Eskimos. I think you would have made an outstanding salesman."
*********
They spent the rest of the morning going over what reconnaissance and data they had, and what they hoped to accomplish in the future. It was tedious work, and he wondered if all six months were going to be as "dry."
As if reading his thoughts, the Captain stood and stretched. "I don't know about you, but if this is what we have to look forward to in the months ahead, I'm going to go to Utopia Planitia and build that ship myself!"
Chakotay smiled at the thought, and had no doubt she'd do it. In his observation of her today, he saw a determination he hadn't sensed before. Even with her minimal enthusiasm for her current posting, she'd given it her best effort. No wonder she moved through the ranks so quickly. She had the kind of "whatever it takes" attitude Starfleet expected of its officers.
"Why don't we go get something to eat? I know we've got the replicator, but it's a beautiful day." Chakotay suggested. "Let's play hooky and eat out. Enjoy some real sunshine while we can."
"Now I think *you've* been to Betazed," Kathryn said, surprised he had echoed her longings to be rid of the office. "Let's do it. But it will have to be a working lunch."
"Are you always going to be this strict of a task master, Captain? Can't we forget work for an hour?"
"Normally, I would think about it," she said, gathering her PADDs, "but I can't be late tonight. Mark's speaking at a symposium in Winnipeg, and I promised I'd be there."
"What does he do?"
"He's a philosopher. He teaches, but mostly he lectures. He's going to Risa in a week," she said, a note of sadness in her voice. "He asked me to accompany him, but there's just too much going on here."
"Couldn't Harry and I take care of things for a day or two?" Chakotay suggested, hoping to remove the look of disappointment from her face.
"That's a nice thought, and I thank you for offering, but I don't think Nechayev would take too kindly to the idea."
"Probably not," he agreed. Changing the subject, he said, "do you have everything you need?"
She nodded and waved him ahead of her. After a quick explanation to Harry, they were off to make the most of being stationed planet side.
*********
Kathryn was hurrying to get dressed. Why did it always seem she was in a hurry to be somewhere? If it didn't have something to do with Starfleet, then it was something to do with Mark's career. Owen Paris had been right. There never would be a *good* time to get married. Her life would change very little if they were married, apart from their separate living arrangements. As it was, they attended functions together. She came to most of his lectures, and he was as much a fixture in her family's home, as she was. When she and Mark were together, Kathryn never even thought about it. Their lives had meshed so well, she almost had to remind herself that she *wasn't* his wife.
She certainly hadn't acted like a wife during lunch that day. She had flirted almost shamelessly with her assistant, as they dined at a small cafe, al-fresco. Looking back now, she wondered at her behavior. She supposed it was the mixture of fresh air, sunshine and relief she felt to be out of the office. That plus the compliments Chakotay had paid her. Mark was gracious with his praise, but it had been some time since he made her feel clever, witty, and yes, if she were honest, sexy. Chakotay's teasing banter bordered on sexual harassment with some of his veiled, and not so veiled innuendoes. She was surprised he could be so relaxed with her, considering they'd just met, but grateful he had been. The thing she had the most trouble with, being an officer, being a Captain, was the distance it seemed to place between herself and her crew. Maybe it was because she and Chakotay weren't in a shipboard command structure, and were working at Headquarters. He had taken some liberties with her, but she hadn't cared. It reminded her of the ease he had taken in leading their dance the night before. He took control, and she hadn't even realized he'd done it, as if were the most natural thing in the world to allow him to lead.
A few more finishing touches and she was off to the public transport site, if she hurried, she just might make it before Mark began his talk.
*********
Chakotay was busy fixing himself dinner, enjoying the mechanics of cooking. There was something satisfying about transforming raw ingredients into a new creation. Even alone, he preferred his own efforts to that of the replicator, despite the fact the recipes he used, were programmed into the unit.
His mind drifted over his day. All in all, not a bad start to his temporary assignment. He realized now, he'd probably been a little too familiar with a senior officer, but he couldn't help responding to her genuine enjoyment of the day. Out of the office, her hard edges seemed to melt away and he was left with a thoroughly engaging woman. He found himself teasing her in a way that would have been considered, at the least, inappropriate, even if they'd had a long association. But she hadn't rebuffed him. In fact, she seemed to egg him on, causing him to push the boundaries of propriety. He revealed more about himself to her during the course of their two-hour hiatus than he had anyone in his life, and yet didn't feel as if he'd discussed more than what he was comfortable with. She had returned in kind, regaling him with stories of her childhood in Indiana.
She and Mark had known each other practically all their lives, she told him. Not exactly childhood sweethearts, but their relationship had come full circle, nonetheless. He laughed at her description of the youthful "Hobbes" as Vulky. He could see that side to Mark, although the awkwardness of an intellectual boy had been tempered into a confident man, secure in his beliefs and theories. He could see how they would be drawn together. He calm and grounded, she passionate and questioning. Once again he found himself feeling envious of their relationship. He'd never found a woman who "completed" him, and hearing her talk of the peace she found with Mark left him feeling bereft. He noticed one thing when she talked of Mark. She never said she loved *him.* She loved aspects *of* him, but she never professed that emotion in regards to the man himself. Chakotay didn't doubt she cared deeply for him. That was evident. But he wondered if she were aware she wasn't *in* love with Mark. Maybe he was reading more into the situation than was there. Perhaps he was guilty of projecting his own wish that she didn't love Mark onto her.
That was the crux of his dilemma. He was almost embarrassed to think of it now. He had never believed in the proverbial "love at first sight." To him it was the basis for romantic literature and the realm of teenage girls. And yet, he couldn't explain why he was so enamored with her. He'd never been so unbalanced in his life, he felt almost obsessed. He hadn't stopped thinking about her all day, he realized. At first he was able to rationalize it as focusing on their work. But he had left Headquarters hours ago, and still she was in his thoughts. The reminders of her sensual laugh as she returned her own innuendoes. Perhaps he wasn't the model Starfleet officer today, but neither was she. It was almost frightening how quickly they had fallen into an easy relationship, as if they'd known each other forever.
Chakotay ate his meal, but didn't taste it. Trying to concentrate on a novel he had chosen as a dinner companion, he didn't see the words, his mind continually to drifting back to her. Gods! He was too old to be acting like a love-struck kid! But that's what his feelings reminded him of. He hadn't had a crush since he was seventeen! And even then he hadn't felt as foolish as he did now. Abandoning his food, he opted for a walk along the beach. Maybe the fresh air would clear his head.
*********