The PKSP Archive - one
by envoy

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Disclaimer: Well, I could say they were mine, but then I
would be lying.

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I know what I have done.
I know what I have done is wrong.
                         is wrong for what I represent.
                         is it wrong for who I am?

He was upset, confused; he needed reassurance, comfort.
I needed to feel someone beside me.

For a long time I thought that someone would be someone
else. I don't have to name names. But I know you want me
to.

Chakotay. I thought that if it would be anyone on ship it
would be him.

Dangerous, I know, to consider such a thing with my first
officer. My self appointed first officer.
I had to set the right example; prove Maquis and
Starfleet could unite; suggest they could be more. And if
it did nothing else, that suggestion would unite both
sides in distaste.

As it was, no one whispered a speculative word for some
time.
As it was, by that time my example had completely
ensnared him. And myself.

But by that time I knew there would be no quick route
home, that I could not jeopardise harmony by being with
him. Perhaps he came to the same conclusion. I will never
know.

Time passed; rumours faded. people died.
Things changed.
I did not. Could not.

Even though I needed someone to be there with his arms
encircling me and whispering soft words to me; gentle
words for me.
I settled for discreet liaisons on the stars we stopped
at; liaisons which assisted negotiations more than once.
And on it went.

It became impossible to think of any of them as that
someone. The someone I        needed.

Flirting and fluttering, encouraging touches, but nothing
more. Anything more had to be with hidden strangers and
so was nothing.

Nothing.

Can there be anything worse?

I went to comfort the boy who could be my son. To show
appropriate affection and compassion and understanding.
It was he who understood.

     Abandoning my protests to the silence
     and restraining willing arms with
     knowing hands and
     touching still, waiting lips
     with
     his
               Pressing his flesh to
                    mine; suckering his lips over
                         my trembling breast; gently
                                teasing me
                                   open.

               Spidering his fingers over
          me; sliding his fingers inside
     to burn dormant nerves to life; gently
teasing me
awake.

And I
     Abandoning the pasts to distant memory
     and accepting comfort from
     knowing hands and
     returning anxious kiss
     for
     anxious kiss
               Sliding my body down
          his; caressing him with
     my mouth; moving over him
with my mouth, my tongue, my lips.

               Lulling him upwards
                  with my hard earned knowledge; pressing
                         over and against him and
                              moving away; gently teasing
                                   him  to   me.

                   and he snaps to me
                  with a myriad touches
                 from a thousand hands;
                   and I beckon to him
                  with a myriad kisses
                from long forgotten lips,
              from long abandoned emotions;
                and he pierces through me
                       pieces together me
               with shallow-deep motions;
                      and wakens me
             with caresses sure & delicate.
                and I     touch     him.

He touched me; showed me I could be more than a
figurehead; made me the example.
            made me want that someone again
            made me want
            made me want him.
            made me into this.

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The End