The BLTS Archive- Capture 
by august (appelsini@hotmail.com)

---

cMarch 1999

Somebody stop me. I'm sorry, it's *their* fault. They keep playing in
my mind.

Disclaimers: I won Star Trek and all associated characters from
Michele M in a poker game. Lyrics from a song called 'Love and
Addiction' by the Counting Crows.

---
This picture you see is nothing like the one I wanted painted of me .
. .
---

Painting is something I do so infrequently, that I was surprised when
I came across the canvas in the back of my closet. I was going through
my things; making room for the new and discarding the old. I didn't
recognise the painting at first, but when I remembered it was with
such force that I had to sit down.

I am not a talented painter. I am competent, and I can present a scene
well enough. My work lacks that something that makes a picture art;
that makes the viewer sigh with recollection. This unfinished piece
that sits before me was the last thing that I attempted. I remember
now that it was intended for Chakotay, as a birthday present.

I study the scene before me. I had started to paint it to remind us
both of a day we had spent together. I am glad I did not give it to
him, because it almost guts me now to look at it.

---

"Chakotay, do you have any plans for this afternoon?" I had asked him,
almost a year ago. I was about to beam down to the planet we were
orbiting, and the impulse of an invitation had struck me.

It had caught him slightly by surprise, even then things were becoming
strained between us. "Not really. I had planned to take a walk through
the city." He had answered.

"I hear they have a wonderful cafe strip in the main city. Would you
like to join me?" I smiled at him, knowing it would pull at him. And
of course he agreed to join me.

We met up a couple of hours later. It reminded me, distantly, of the
time when we were in twentieth century Earth. It was easier then, to
walk side by side with him and pretend for that brief instant that we
*were* side by side.

We chatted for a while. I hadn't noticed in particular when
conversation had become hard for us - when I had had to search for
things to comment on. But I realised when we had spotted the street
side cafe that I was relieved that the conversation would be
suspended, if even for a moment.

We sat down and I had tried to explain to the waiter that I wanted a
drink that was the closet approximation to coffee. Ironically, I had
ended up with something that had vaguely resembled herbal tea.
Chakotay had laughed at that, and his laugh sounded strange.

I had slowly become aware of people gathering on the streets around
us, looking up towards the skies. A few, at first, but as the minutes
passed it became harder and harder to ignore.

I caught the attention of one of the waiters. "What are they looking
at?"

"It's your ship in orbit." The waiter replied. "At every interval, you
can see it cross our sky."

We both immediately looked to the sky, but it had been empty.

"Isn't it funny how much of an effect we can have, without really
knowing?" I had commented, looked at the group of people who had
huddled on the corner, staring expectantly at the sky.

"That's the Voyager way, isn't it?" He had aid dryly, and I shot him a
questioning look.

"Chakotay?"

"That ship has changed so many lives. I don't think we'll ever realise
what we could have been, if it wasn't there."

"We?"

"The crew." He had been quick to clarify. "Where would we be?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing, Chakotay. I've always thought of
Voyager as a redemption, of sorts."

"Maybe." He sipped his drink and shifted in his chair. "Sometimes."

I was about to add something further, when I noticed the people on the
street talking rapidly and pointing to the sky. I looked up.

"Chakotay, there it is!" I strained my neck to see Voyager in the sky.
I became aware of the fact that he was staring at me, intently. For
some reason, I didn't move. It felt like he was trying to commit me to
memory. Like he didn't expect me to return to him.

Maybe he knew, even then.

As Voyager streaked across the sky, I smiled.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" I asked, finally turning to him.

"I used to think so." He said quietly, and I understood the intent of
his statement.

I broke our gaze and looked back towards the sky. I couldn't see
Voyager anymore, just the orange expanse. I reached out for his hand,
and he meet me half-way across the table. It was a moment of complete
sadness. Of resignation. But to those walking past, we could have
looked like lovers. Like partners. Like anything.

And that was the moment I had hoped to capture.

I don't know why I had thought of it. It was cruel, to give him a
present that would remind him of what he didn't have. So that later,
if (when) he took a lover, he would caress her in front of our frozen
figures. He would put my face on hers. He would remember.

---

The canvas still sits in the back of my closet. I didn't finish it in
time for his birthday. Instead, I replicated a nice bottle of red. We
did not share it.

The painting is still half finished. The cafe is in the background,
and Chakotay is there. It seems a lonely picture in its state of
incompletion; I can't seem to remember enough to paint myself in. And
even if I did, I'm not sure I would be welcome.

---

The End