*********
As the days of the first week passed, Chakotay tried not to count the number of nuances he was beginning to associate with Kathryn. The way she rubbed her forehead when she was concentrating, or pinched the bridge of her nose as a headache came on. The way her hands moved when she was explaining something. Her "command stance," with her hands planted firmly on her hips. If she noticed him staring at her, she had the grace and presence not to mention it.
Kathryn wasn't immune to the attentions of her assistant. She caught his eyes on her more often than not, and sometimes she smiled slightly at him, other times she chose to ignore the fact she caught him staring. It was a little unnerving, but flattering as well. She only hoped she wasn't as obvious in her observations of him. She had come to know when his dry sense of humor would show itself, and what each of his smiles meant. He had a "butter wouldn't melt in my mouth" one, for when she accused him of being inattentive, a quirky one, for when he found something particularly humorous, a genuine, warm smile for when he was sincere. All of which were punctuated by the wickedest set of dimples she'd ever seen. She still couldn't believe someone hadn't "snagged" him long ago.
After the first tedious day of exchanging the titles of "Captain" and "Commander," Kathryn suggested they relax protocol within their office and refer to each other by their given names. The first time he said her name, she was grateful she'd been sitting down. No one had ever pronounced her name they way he did. There was a quality to his voice she couldn't put her finger on, but she knew she could listen to him recite her name forever.
She almost shook her head to clear it. Her reaction to him was confusing the hell out of her. How many people, how many men, did she worked with on a daily basis? She couldn't begin to count them, and yet, no one impressed themselves on her as he had. Surely Mark was so sick of ". . . and Chakotay said" stories, he was ready to throttle her. But to his credit, he simply listened and chuckled at the appropriate times. She had to be more aware of that in the future. Mark didn't inflict work stories on her, she would try to do the same.
Mark was leaving for Risa later that day. She wasn't going to get a chance to see him off, and it left her feeling guilty. Chakotay could certainly see to what needed to be accomplished today, allowing her time to sneak off and have a private farewell with her lover. Nechayev wouldn't even know she had gone. So why didn't she take her assistant up on his offer?
"Chakotay? Does your offer of covering for me still stand?" She asked, arranging the PADDs on her desk with a slightly nervous gesture.
"Of course. Mark's going to be gone for a week, you really should say good-bye in person," he urged, but there was a strange look on his face that she misinterpreted as a reluctance to renege on his suggestion. By way of compensation she offered,
"I realize this is an imposition, so how about I make it up to you by buying dinner?" The invitation had been issued innocently enough, but he saw it as an opportunity to spend more time with her. After eight hours straight, he was surprised he was still eager for her company.
"That's not necessary," he found himself saying. "I'm happy to do it."
"Your really very kind," Kathryn said politely, "but I insist. Why don't we meet at the same cafe we had lunch at the other day? We don't have to stay there, it's just an easy to get to, central location."
"I've got a better idea," he said, struck with an inspiration. "How about if I cook?"
"What kind of a 'bribe' is that?" she smiled. "I'm supposed to be paying *you* back, not the other way around."
"You will be. I like to cook and it gets old doing it for one."
Kathryn considered her options. While a public restaurant would seem entirely appropriate for a senior officer to reward her assistant for extra effort, a private dinner, cooked in his home, would not. But who would know? She'd tell Mark about it, of course, so what would the problem be? So what if the Brass found out? It wasn't like they were having an affair, it was just dinner.
"You drive a hard bargain, Commander," she said, her mouth twisting up into a shy smile. "See you at eight."
As it was, she missed Mark by mere moments. She'd have to call him later, when he arrived on Risa, she decided. Kathryn wanted to be sure he knew she did her best to see him off, and inform him of her dinner plans with Chakotay. The only way he could misconstrue the evening would be if she tried to keep it from him. It was perfectly innocent, and she was going to make sure Mark knew it as well.
*********
Kathryn stood at Chakotay's door, nervousness washing over her, hesitating to announce her arrival. This was ridiculous, she thought, amused at her trepidation. She sat with the man in the same room for hours at a time, why should tonight be any different? There was an intimacy to their office, and she handled that just fine, why should his apartment be any more uncomfortable? Because this was Chakotay's personal space, not just a desk across from hers. She would be entering his domain, where he dictated the course of events. What was she so worried about? That someone at Headquarters would catch wind of their dinner plans? And they were just dinner plans. How many working dinners had she and Admiral Paris had? Or Nechayev? She'd never second-guessed them. She was considered a personal friend of Owen Paris and his family, and yet she never wondered "how it looked to the Brass."
Steeling her nerves, she switched the bottle of synth-wine to her left hand, and reached out with her right. She barely touched the chime before the door retracted, revealing Chakotay. She jumped at his sudden appearance, blushing that he startled her.
"You're late," he said, motioning her into the small apartment, typical quarters of Starfleet personnel. Of course he wouldn't look for something off Federation property, she reasoned; he was only expecting to be on Earth six months. The transient nature of the occupant was apparent by the lack of personal adornment. One or two momentoes were on the shelves in the living area, and other than the standard-issue furniture, the room was bare.
"Yes," she said, beginning to apologize for her tardiness. "I guess I got a later start than I thought."
"I was thinking maybe you were nervous about coming over here, thinking it went against Starfleet regulations or something." Kathryn's eyes snapped up to meet his. Had he read her mind somehow? She knew her gaze was revealing too much, causing her to quickly look away.
"You travel light," Kathryn said, trying to redirect his attention away from his uncanny ability to read her.
"I always have. Even on extended missions, I've never kept a lot with me. I have a few reminders of my family. That's all I need." He offered to take her coat and she shrugged out of the long jacket. Part of the reason she was late was she had changed her clothes about twenty times. What difference would it make what she wore? Anything was an improvement over the uniform. She wanted an outfit that seemed causal, but not so informal as to belittle his invitation of dinner. Kathryn had finally decided on a plain, lavender dress. It seemed about as un-Starfleet as she could get, and not be overdressed. She'd always liked dresses. With so much of her life spent in an androgynous environment, she liked to feel feminine when she had the chance.
As Chakotay relieved her of her coat, he took her hand momentarily. "Relax. There's nothing inappropriate here. We're two friends having dinner."
She smiled at him and pulled her hand away. They *were* friends, she realized. How had they come to know each other so well in only a week? Perhaps it was the close quarters and intensity of their work.
There was an urgency to the situation they both felt, but neither spoke of. The Cardassians were planning something big, and the entire Alpha Quadrant was feeling the effects of their political "muscle stretching." There was nothing overt, just small little pushes in the direction of the Federation. Stepping over a boundary, then apologizing profusely, stating they hadn't realized they'd breached the terms of the treaty. Bullshit. Cardassia knew exactly what it was doing, and the Federation and Starfleet knew it too. But in the interest of peace, the Federation pretended to believe Cardassia's excuses. Still, the situation was escalating, and tension was everywhere. On Earth, Rigel, Vulcan, but especially among the colonies in and along the Demilitarized Zone, in the heart of which was Chakotay's homeworld of Dorvan V. How did he feel about it? She wondered. He never spoke to her of his personal feelings over what the Cardassians were gearing up to do. Instead, he performed his duty as a Starfleet officer, as if he had no emotional ties to Dorvan whatsoever.
Kathryn's mind returned to Chakotay's attempt to relax her. "You're right," she said with a little laugh. "I guess I am nervous."
"Is it Mark?" he asked. "Did he object. . . ."
"No," she said honestly. "Ironically, I missed him by just a few minutes. But I'm sure he wouldn't mind. I'm going to call him later, and I'm sure he'll be fine with it."
"Do you want to try now? Maybe if you talk to him about it, you won't feel like you're doing something wrong." Chakotay took her hands again and stressed. "You're *not* doing anything wrong. We're having dinner. End of story." His smile was so warm and genuine, she couldn't help but relax.
"If you don't mind, maybe I will call him. I'll feel better once I know for certain that he made safely to Risa and that he's okay with this."
Chakotay nodded and led her to the subspace interface. "Would you like some privacy? After all, if you didn't get a chance to give him a proper send off. . . ." he teased.
Kathryn blushed at the implied meaning of his words. "Thank you, but it really isn't necessary. This should only take a minute."
Chakotay decided to give her some space anyway, retreating into the kitchen. He could hear her asking for Mark's room and her laugh over something he said. Probably discussing their bad timing earlier.
"Chakotay!" she called out to him, "Mark wants to say 'hello.'"
*Oh, gods*, he thought. *What was he going to say to him? Thanks for lending me your fianc� for the evening*? Chakotay stepped around the counter separating the tiny kitchen from the living area, crossing to stand next to Kathryn.
"Hi, Mark. You made it to Risa okay?" *Stupid*, he said to himself. *Of course he made it okay, you're talking to him, aren't you*? He didn't know this man, and felt awkward trying to make small talk with him. Chakotay knew what this was really about. Mark wanted to see the two of them together, to make sure there was no hidden agenda on Chakotay's part. He trusted Kathryn, but wasn't so clear on her assistant's motives.
"Yeah. Typical flight.," he said. "Kath says you're fixing dinner?"
"She owes me for covering for her today, so I'm subjecting her to my cooking,"
"Sounds like she's the one getting all the benefits! An early release, and a home-cooked meal!" There was no reprisal in his voice, no hint of jealousy, and Chakotay wondered if he could ever feel so confident in a woman's love to trust her as implicitly as Mark did Kathryn.
"Believe it or not, she *is* doing me a favor. I'd much rather cook for someone other than just myself. When you get back, maybe we can all get together and I'll 'experiment' on you!"
"'Experiment,' huh? Now that sounds like an offer I'd like to refuse!" Mark chuckled good-naturedly. "Really, Chakotay, thanks for looking out for Kath while I'm gone. She doesn't eat enough as it is, and she's usually worse when I'm away."
"My pleasure," he said to the image on the screen. If only the man knew how much of a pleasure it was getting to be.
"Will you two *stop*!" Kathryn protested. "I am still in the room you know! And I'm perfectly capable of taking care of my self," she said, pushing her face closer to the screen to emphasize her point.
"Prove it," Mark said with a smile.
"I will. I plan on eating a disgustingly huge dinner at the hands of my extremely qualified assistant."
"I want pictures! Chakotay! I want documentation!" Mark laughed along with the woman whose image filled his flat screen.
Chakotay was starting to feel as if he were intruding on something personal as the two bantered back and forth. "Excuse me," he said, retreating. "I'd better see to dinner before there's nothing to feed Kathryn." If Mark noticed his use of her name, he didn't say anything. But why wouldn't he call her by her name? Wouldn't Mark consider it odd if he had called her by her rank in his home?
"Bye, Chakotay!" Mark called out to the figure leaving the range of the video interface. "I should go too," he said to Kathryn. "I've got a big day tomorrow."
"With all those *horgons* around, you're likely to have a "big" night as well!" She said, with a playful smile.
"Only if you were here," he said with sincerity. "I love you, Kath," he said, touching his fingers to his lips and then to the screen.
Returning the gesture she said, "me too. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Kath?" Mark asked before signing off.
"Hmmm?"
"Have fun tonight." The channel closed and she stared at the blank screen for a moment before joining Chakotay. He was such a sweet man. How could any woman hope for more?
Chakotay concentrated on chopping vegetables so she didn't see the look on his face. Watching the exchange between the couple in his living area, he had been touched by their genuine affection for one another. How had he allowed himself to think of her as anything but a friend? The relationship she and Mark shared was a rare, and precious thing, and he had shown up, seemingly out of nowhere, envying their closeness. He was going to have to make an effort to control his feelings for her. It wasn't fair to any of them.
"Can I give you a hand?" Kathryn offered, leaning across the counter, snatching piece of pepper.
"I thought you said you didn't know how to cook," Chakotay teased her.
"Well I have *some* clue. I'm just not terribly proficient."
"I find it hard you're not 'proficient' at every thing you do." he said, looking her in the eyes for the first time since she'd disconnected from Risa.
Why did she feel there was some thing more to his words than what was on the surface? He hadn't acted with inpropriety, she was probably reading something more into his statement than was there.
"You want to chop some of the vegetables?" he asked. "I hope you don't mind if there's no meat tonight." She had noticed he ate vegetarian when they took their meals, but she'd never discussed it with him.
"No that's fine. Although, if I were a typical 'Hoosier,'" she said, referring to the nick-name of her home state, "I would call you a 'blasphemer.' 'Vegetarian' is still considered profanity in the Midwest."
He laughed at her remark, although he suspected it wasn't far from the truth. Coming around the counter, Kathryn picked up the knife and started to attack the vegetables.
"Hey! Easy with that!" Chakotay cried. "You're holding that knife as if it were a phaser and you were surrounded!" Standing next to her, he demonstrated the proper way to cut the produce.
"Hold your fingers of your left hand like this," he said, curling them slightly under. "That way when you hold the food, you can't miss, and cut them. The knife you hold like this," he demonstrated. "Kind of like you were, but turned more to the side." With his hands covering hers, they tried a few tentative cuts together. "See?"
"Yes," she said, extremely aware of how close he was. *He's just trying to show you how to do it right*, she thought. *Nothing more. Don't make more out of it than there is*. "I think I can do it now," she said, pulling away from him as much as she could, without seeming as if she were trying to put some distance between them.
Realizing how closely he was standing by her, he backed off, slightly embarrassed. He hadn't even noticed he had slipped his hand over hers to show her how to use the knife. He hadn't wanted to see her cut herself by the clumsy way she was wielding the instrument.
"I better see to the sauce," he said quietly, clearing his throat. The atmosphere in the confined area of the kitchen was decidedly tense as he concentrated on stirring a pot. He didn't want the rest of the evening to be spent in stilted conversation, and tried to think of something to break the tension.
"When my mother was teaching me to cook, I was helping make a meal for my family, which included a rather out-spoken aunt. She was my mother's sister, and completely irrepressible. We always liked it when Naya came over, " he told her. "Anyhow, this one day my mother let me chop the vegetables. I don't remember being very old, but I was extremely proud that my mother trusted me with the sharp knife. I was trying to show off, of course, for Aunt Naya, and was rather careless with the knife."
"Did you cut yourself?" Kathryn asked, caught up in his story.
"No, but I wish I would have. Then I would have gotten some sympathetic attention rather than all the teasing from my family."
"Well, what happened?" she prompted.
"In front of my sisters, grandparents, everybody, she barked out: 'Chakotay! Stop holding that knife as if it were your dick!'"
Kathryn choked, her hand coming up to her mouth to repress the laughter that bubbled out. Stealing a glance at Chakotay she saw the memory still plagued him, but he had a smile on his face as well. At the sight of the blush covering his cheeks, she laughed all the harder, envisioning the young Chakotay, completely mortified before his relatives.
"I'm sorry, Chakotay," she said, "but I can just see you, even as a youngster, trying to retain some dignity. Did your aunt ever apologize for what she said?"
"I don't think she even realized she said anything wrong! She just kept staring at my family, wondering why they were all laughing! That was just the kind of woman she was. You never had to wonder where you stood with Naya."
His last sentence sobered her, and Kathryn returned to her assigned task. Like the way she was beginning to wonder where she stood with Chakotay. There seemed such an immediate union between them, she was knocked off balance. She'd never had this kind of a relationship with a subordinate before. Even Tuvok, whom she considered one of her best friends, hadn't managed to form the same kind of connection with her, as Chakotay had. Perhaps it was the difference between human friendships, and those with Vulcans, but she doubted it. She just didn't have instant rapport with people. She could judge their character easily enough; she was good at that, but this was different. The way she and Chakotay had dropped into a routine at Headquarters, as if they'd always worked together. Each finishing off each other's sentences, as if a telepathic bond existed. It was comforting, until she examined it, and realized how unusual it was to have this deep of a relationship with someone she'd just met. Phoebe always accused her as being over-analytical, more so than any other woman she knew. Her sister would have a field-day with this one!
"Kathryn? Everything okay?" She'd suddenly turned so quiet, he thought maybe he had offended her somehow.
"No, just lost in my thoughts for a moment," she said, turning to smile at him. As she did, she wasn't watching what she was doing with the knife, and it sliced into the index finger of her left hand.
"OW!" she cried, surprised at the sudden pain. "Oh, damn. Chakotay, I cut myself," she said, her voice betraying her embarrassment. "I guess I should have paid more attention to your lesson." He was next to her in a heartbeat, more upset at the sight of her blood on the cutting board than she was.
"Here, wrap it in this," he said, handing her a towel. "I'll get the dermal regenerator." When he returned with the medical instrument, he noticed her flaming cheeks.
"When you offered to give me a hand, I didn't think you were going to cut it off!"
"I'm sorry," she said. "I seem to be more trouble than I'm worth."
"Hey," he said, holding the regenerator over the wound. "All the best cooks are covered with scars. Think of it as an initiation."
"I'm supposed to feel honored, then, that I'm a klutz?"
"You're not a klutz, Kathryn. You're the most graceful woman I've ever seen." The intensity in his eyes was almost scary, and her hand was tingling where hers touched his. She pawned the thought of it off as the after effects of the healing process, but she had a feeling it was more than that.
"You don't get out much, do you?" She joked, in reference to his comment on her grace. She disengaged her hand from his and said, "I think I'm going to leave the rest of this cooking nonsense to the master. Now I know why I can't live without a replicator!" she said, trying to make light of the situation. Kathryn walked around the counter, and took a seat at a stool on the other side, as if she were physically placing a barrier between them.
Chakotay let her retreat to the other side of the divider. What had just happened? Was it just him, or had she felt a spark of something between them as well? Is that why she moved out of the kitchen? To get away from him?
He focused on cleaning up the cutting board, making sure none of Kathryn's blood was on the vegetables. Now it was her turn to try and break the awkwardness that descended on the kitchen.
"How about some wine? It's synthahol, but it still tastes real enough."
Chakotay went for two glasses. "I prefer it myself. There's maybe no 'buzz' but there's no side effects either." Rather than lightening the mood, it was one more thing that emphasized how much they had in common. She almost wished they could disagree on something!
Kathryn poured two glasses of the pale pink liquid. "I brought a rose`; I wasn't sure what you were going to make."
"Neither did I. Not until I started fixing it anyway." He held up his glass to hers and said, "here's to new friends." She nodded her head and touched her glass to his. Their eyes met again, but this time he had a rein on the emotions she'd seen earlier. She only hoped her eyes reflected a similar restraint..
Chakotay finished the meal by cooking pasta and saut�ing the vegetables they each had contributed to. "Looks like it's ready," he informed her. "Why don't you have a seat here," he said, indicating one of the two place settings at the small table, and proceeded to wait on her, miming the waiter from the cafe where they had shared their first meal. His portrayal was so accurate, Kathryn found herself laughing again, the unsettling feelings from moments before, evaporating.
Once the uneasy air had been dispelled, Kathryn and Chakotay both relaxed, each trying to out-do the other with outrageous tales from their youth and Academy days.
They had been talking for hours when Kathryn looked up at the chronometer on the shelf. "03:00!" She exclaimed. "We've got to be to work in five hours! How did I let you distract me for so long?"
"Me? I don't think it was me who insisted on one more 'lets embarrass Chakotay' story after another," he teased.
"Okay, so you're not entirely to blame here, but I really should be going." Kathryn looked at the remains of dinner, still littering the table. "I can't believe we just left all this," she said, but at the time, she was so wrapped up in their conversation, the thought of cleaning up their meal hadn't occurred to her.
Chakotay was a gifted story teller, and he told the tales of his youth with the same expressive passion as he did the stories of his people. And she heard enough of them that evening. Enough that she gotten to the point of groaning when he'd begin another "ancient legend." And because of that, he made sure he told her more of them than he could remember, By the end, he was making them up as he went along. Kathryn was no fool, and knew he'd run out of authentic tales, fabricating new ones for her amusement. They were punchy by that time, and the stories became more and more ridiculous until Kathryn was holding her aching sides, shaking with laughter.
They rose from the table at the same time, still in synch with each other. Together they quickly cleaned up the table and the kitchen, the task made easier when he decided to dump everything into the recycler. Chakotay retrieved her coat and she accepted his gentlemanly offer to help her with it. Pulling her hair out of the way, she caught the look on Chakotay's face as he watched the action. She'd left it down that evening and had noticed his eyes on it several times. She hadn't specifically left it down for him, but was warmed by his reaction to it. As unsure as she felt with him, at moments like this, it was still gratifying he found her attractive. In what seemed an overtly personal gesture, she placed her hand on his chest and said,
"Thank you for a wonderful evening, Chakotay. I'll see you in a few hours."
"Any time," he said, the skin of his chest burning beneath the weight of her hand. Backing up slightly so her hand fell away, he keyed the door open. "See you later."
********