The BLTS Archive- The Water Is Wide
by Avalon (avalon99@telusplanet.net)

---
"The water is wide
and I can't cross over
and neither have
I wings to fly.

Build me a boat
that can carry two
and both shall row,
my love and I."

Old Irish Ballad
---
PROLOGUE
---

What did it take to kill friendship?  Loyalty?  Love? Janeway didn't
know, but whatever it was, she had managed it.  Somehow.

Chakotay was leaving.

The Captain hunched her shoulders against the light rain and shivered
as the silence lengthened.  Finally,after what seemed an eternity, she
spoke.  "Why are you doing this?"  She was proud of her voice -- it
didn't shake at all, despite the tremors that were rippling through
her body.  Perhaps he would think she was trembling because of the
cold...

It didn't matter.  He didn't meet her gaze, didn't even look at her.
Instead he stared down distantly at his feet where puddles were
forming.  His dark hair was plastered down from the rain,
half-obscuring the tattoo over his eye, while rivulets of water ran
down his clothing.  His civilian clothing.  He had left his uniform on
Voyager... along with everything else.

"I'm...tired," he said quietly.  "I want...peace. Harmony.  I want..."
His voice trailed off.

"Aliyda?"  She couldn't quite keep the bitterness from her voice.

Chakotay flinched, but the movement was so slight she couldn't be sure
she hadn't imagined it.  He half-turned, levelling his gaze somewhere
over her left shoulder.  "She needs me," he said hollowly.  "They all
do."

*So do I*  Janeway could have screamed the response at him, but
didn't.  Instead her fists clenched and she turned away, facing into
the wind.  Her wet hair hung in ropes around her face and her uniform
clung uncomfortably.  "What about Voyager?" she asked aloud, not
saying the question she really wanted to ask.

"Voyager...will be fine.  You don't need me.  This colony does."

*Yes I do.*  Janeway brushed a damp lock of hair out of her eyes and
continued, trying one last time to sway him with logic.  "Are you
sure?  Because whatever decision you make here is final -- we're not
going to be able to come back to get you.  There's...there's no
turning back from this."

"I'm staying."  His tone was flat and uncompromising.

It was Janeway's turn to flinch.  She had seen this side of him
before, this grim determination to stay on his chosen course no matter
what else might stand in his way -- it was a trait she shared and
understood.  He would not yield.  It was over.

She had lost him.

She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again.  There was
nothing left to say, after all.  Pain flitted once, briefly, across
her face and then it was gone, the cold mask she had worn for the last
few months descending once more.  "All right," she said icily.  "Do
you have everything you need?"

"I have everything I need."  Something had gone out of his voice and
Janeway felt as if she were talking to a ghost or an echo of the
past... Someone she had never met. Someone she did not...

Resolutely she steered her mind away from these dangerous thoughts.
She wouldn't be able to do this if she thought about it what she was
doing.  Wouldn't be able to walk away...  Instead, she took a deep,
steadying breath. "You'll be able to contact us for the next thirty
hours... if you change your mind," she added, a tiny flicker of hope
going through her even as she said it.

Chakotay's next words ruthlessly extinguished it.  "I won't," he said,
wordlessly unclipping his communicator pin and holding it out to her.
And something within Janeway wavered and died.  For a long moment
anger warred with fear and loss inside her.  In the end, anger won.
She held onto the emotion carefully, suddenly certain that it was the
only thing she had left that would let her see through this.
Clenching her teeth, she reached out and took the pin, careful not to
let her fingers brush his.  And then she nodded once, briefly.
"Goodbye, Chakotay."

His face didn't change and he matched her emotionless tone.  "Goodbye,
Kathryn."  He didn't move.  A long moment passed as the wind and rain
lashed at them both and then Janeway stepped back, raising her hand to
her own communicator.

"Janeway to Voyager.  One to beam up."  An instant later an electronic
field engulfed her...and everything within her rose up in rebellion.
She *couldn't* do this. She couldn't let it end like this...
Unthinking, Janeway reached out a hand toward her First Officer,
searching for the words that would change his mind, would somehow mend
what she had broken...but it was too late.  A lifetime too late.
Chakotay faded from her vision and the words she had been going to say
died in her throat.

---
PART ONE -- REGRETS
TWO MONTHS LATER:
---

Janeway stared blindly up at the ceiling.  Sleep eluded her, as it had
for the last two months and six days. And, she knew, when she finally
*did* fall asleep from sheer exhaustion, the dreams would come.
Dreams of the man she had left behind.

She could have gone to the Doctor to get something to help her sleep.
But something had made her hesitate.  Even though the dreams caused
her nothing but pain, they were still better than nothing...better
than the emptiness of the days...

Chakotay.

The man she loved.

Janeway turned on her side and pounded her pillow once in frustration.
Damn it, anyway.  Damn him.  And damn her.

It had taken her precisely thirty-two hours and eight minutes to
realize she loved her First Officer...former First Officer...and had
done so for a very long time.  As the ship had passed out of
communicator range, the sense of loss that had crashed down upon her
had left her shaking in its wake and she had had to leave the Bridge
hastily. Alone in her cabin, tears forming in her eyes, it had hit her
like a tidal wave.

She loved him.

And it was too late.

She should have turned the ship around then, gone back and told him
the truth, dragged him kicking and screaming back to the ship if
necessary...but something had stopped her.  Perhaps it was some
leftover sense of pride, or perhaps it was fear...fear that if she did
go back he would refuse her, would tell her that it was too late...and
would send her away again.  And so she had returned to the Bridge and
had sat in stony silence while they sailed farther and farther away
from the man they had left behind.  The man she loved.

Janeway twisted impatiently in her bed, the covers tangling around her
legs.  She closed her eyes tightly, trying to ignore the emotions
roiling within her.

He had loved her.  Once.  Perhaps it had been only for a moment, there
on New Earth, but there had been more than friendship in his eyes.
And there had been so many times afterwards, when she had thought he
was...waiting.  Waiting for her to accept his feelings...to reveal her
own.  She never had.  And now it was too late.  Despair welled up
inside her and she had to fight the urge to cry.  No.  She had shed
more than enough tears over him these past months.

Perhaps he had grown tired of waiting.  What did it take to kill love?
Had it been her overwhelming need to see Voyager safely home, no
matter what stood in her way? Was it the ever-deepening gulf between
them, the rift that had begun as they prepared to cross Borg space?
Or was it her inability to understand his apparent willingness to
settle somewhere in the Delta Quadrant if necessary, a willingness she
would not, could not, share?  Or a combination of all these?  What did
it take to kill love?

Janeway had spent the last two months kicking herself mentally and the
crew figuratively.  She had been impossible to live with, she knew.
Crewmembers had taken to diving down adjacent corridors when they saw
her approaching.  One young Ensign she had snapped at the day before
had even flung himself into a Jeffries tube rather than face her.  She
had rounded a corner in time to see a pair of feet disappearing down
the shaft while the rest of the crew had scattered before her.  It was
a wonder they hadn't mutinied, she thought unhappily.  She rolled onto
her back, rubbing her eyes tiredly as the truth clawed at her.  There
was another reason she hadn't turned the ship around, she knew,
another reason why she was terrorizing her crew.

Aliyda.

Janeway couldn't quite throttle the wave of pure...it had to be
hatred...that swept over her.  The alien woman and her rag-tag band of
colonists were the reason she was lying here, alone and unhappy.  Damn
her to hell.  And damn Chakotay for wanting to stay with her.

She was being unreasonable, Janeway decided, but at this point, she
didn't care.  Her thoughts wandered back to their first meeting with
the people of Calasha'an...and Aliyda.

The small, elfin alien, who had reminded Janeway of Kes, had obviously
harboured feelings for her First Officer.  At first Janeway had been
amused and a little sorry for her, knowing it would hurt Aliyda when
Chakotay left.  The amusement and pity had quickly died though, when
Chakotay had come to her ready room and told her he was staying with
the colonists.  A wave of disbelief had washed over her at his words.
How could he leave the ship?  How could he leave her?

Then again, how could he not?  She had never given him reason to hope,
never given him any real proof that she returned his affections... How
could she blame him for giving up on her?  For growing weary with
waiting...?  Even Chakotays' patience wasn't endless.

Her thoughts turned back to the colonists?  Why this planet?  And why
now?  True, he had seemed more at ease in the foggy, waterlogged
planet than she had thought humanly possible.  But he had given no
indication that he returned Aliyda's feelings, no indication that he
was planning to give up the stars for this one world...
Still...perhaps she was wrong.  Perhaps he *had* felt something for
the alien woman.  Heaven knows, she had been wrong about him often
enough in the past...

Her throat tightened and more tears gathered at the corners of
Janeway's eyes.  She blinked them back furiously.  She would not cry.
She would *not*.  Gritting her teeth, she firmly began to list all of
his faults.

It wasn't working.  She couldn't think of a single one.  A lone tear
escaped and ran down her cheek.  Damn. Damn, damn, damn.  Janeway
closed her eyes briefly, took a deep, steadying breath and resolutely
emptied her mind.  "Sleep, Kathryn," she told herself.  "Go to
sleep... And don't dream..."
       
---

Janeway moved through the corridors like a small thunderstorm, the
crew dispersing before her.  She rounded the corner without slowing
and hurtled into the transporter room, barely giving the doors time to
open for her.  Inside, Neelix and Tom hurriedly turned toward her,
twin expressions of trepidation on their faces.  She shouldered past
them without speaking and stepped onto a transporter pad.  The two men
glanced at each other, but didn't move to join her.

"Well?"  Janeway snapped.  "Are you coming?"

Neelix shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat while Tom fumbled
with his tricorder, staring down at it as if it held all the secrets
of the universe.

"Well...Captain...that is...we..."  Neelix' voice cracked slightly.

"What is it, Mr Neelix?"  Impatience coloured her voice.

The Talaxian was close to wringing his hands.  "We... uh...perhaps Mr
Paris and I could complete the negotiations with the Therians for you.
I mean...there's no reason for you to...er...that is, I know how busy
you are, running the ship and everything, so we thought we could..."

"That's very considerate of you, Mr Neelix."  Her tone was glacial.
"But I am quite capable of continuing these negotiations *and* running
the ship.  Now get on this transporter pad or stay behind.  It's up to
you."

They flinched then moved forward reluctantly, neither one meeting her
eyes.

Janeway fought down the sense of guilt that was rising within her as
they gave her sidelong looks.  They were right.  She had come *this*
close to throwing a left hook at the obstreperous Therian Ambassador
yesterday.  As it was, she had barely managed to leave the room with
her temper -- and the fragile peace between the two races -- intact.
Neelix and Tom probably thought she would start a war if she beamed
back down to the surface.  And they could be right...

No.  No wars.  Just a nice, peaceful negotiation for supplies.  No
problem.  She was still the Captain.  She could do this.  Janeway took
a deep, calming breath and tried to massage away the tension in her
neck with one hand.  It didn't work.  Sighing gustily, she turned and
nodded to the Ensign at the controls.  "Beam us down."  Her voice was
flat and held more than a trace of exhaustion.

Janeway sighed again as the transporter beam enfolded her, familiar
grey fog beginning to creep across her vision...

...and something went suddenly, violently wrong.  She was seized and
shaken like a rag while pain coursed through her, tracing fiery trails
along every nerve in her body.  She screamed silently...

...and the world wrenched sideways.  The agony became overwhelming.
She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't even see.  There was
nothing but pain, fear, and darkness...

...and then, finally, whatever it was released her. With a gasp, she
crumpled bonelessly to the deck, feeling the impact only distantly as
the world continued to spin in several directions at once.  Finally,
after another lifetime or two, the spinning faded and stopped
altogether. Janeway took a deep, shuddering gasp, and listened
distantly to her lungs gasping for air.  She was shaking, she
realized. Slowly, hesitantly, braced against the return of the pain,
the Captain opened her eyes and lifted her head slightly.  It hurt,
but nothing like what she had just experienced.  Blinking, she tried
to focus.

The first thing she saw were two pairs of feet, standing across the
room near the transporter console. Janeway frowned and lifted her gaze
still further. Ensign...Ensign Grainger...that was it.  But something
about his uniform was subtly different.  She couldn't quite place it,
but...

And then her gaze flickered to the second person, and all thought of
uniforms vanished.  Chakotay.  Janeway blinked and shut her eyes again
briefly, suddenly convinced that she must be hallucinating or mad, or
both.  But no. He was still there when she opened them again, moving
toward her with an expression of stunned disbelief on his face.

"Kathryn?"  And then his hands were on her arms, pulling her to her
feet.  Janeway reeled dizzily, leaning heavily against him, unable to
stand on her own...and unable to comprehend what was happening.  What
had happened?  And how could he be here?

Then even these incoherent thoughts vanished altogether as Chakotay
pulled her into his arms and kissed her with a desperate passion,
holding her tightly against his body, his heart hammering against her
own.

Janeway froze.  She was dreaming.  None of this was real.  Chakotay
was kissing her.  *Chakotay* was *kissing* her.  And suddenly, she
didn't care if it was a dream -- she wanted nothing more than to hold
him, to feel his lips on hers.  Her eyes flickered shut and she leaned
into his chest, feeling his warmth, the pressure of his lips, the
corded muscles of his body.  If this *was* a dream, it certainly got
top marks for sensory input.

Abruptly, Chakotay broke the kiss and stepped back a  pace.  She
swayed slightly then opened her eyes.  It took several moments before
she could focus -- her eyes still weren't working properly.  Finally,
though, the man before her swam back into view.  Janeway frowned.

He looked...shattered.  Like he had just seen a ghost... or found
something once thought irretrievably lost.  Dark shadows lined his
eyes which held twin expressions of sorrow and loss, mingled now with
stark disbelief.  Slowly, diffidently, as if he were afraid she would
vanish at his touch, he raised a hand to her cheek.  "Kathryn," he
said again, wonderingly.

Janeway swallowed and nodded wordlessly, fighting the increasing
weakness in her limbs as well as the confusion in her mind.  The room
was beginning to spin again and she took a deep breath.  It didn't
help.  Her legs were beginning to buckle.

"You can't be here," he was saying hoarsely.  "This is a dream..."

"Chakotay..."  Her own voice was weak and unsteady.  A rushing noise
filled her ears and swirling red and grey tendrils of fog were
creeping steadily across her vision. "Chakotay," she managed to say
again just before the fog engulfed her.  She was vaguely aware that
she was falling, and that someone had moved forward to catch her, and
then she knew nothing at all.

---
PART TWO -- AWAKENINGS
---

Janeway woke in sickbay to find the Doctor standing over her with a
tricorder.  She blinked up at him in confusion.

"Doctor?"

"Welcome back to the land of the living.  How are you feeling?"

She paused, taking stock.  She felt...fine.  There seemed to be no
lingering pain from... And then memory hit her with a rush.  The
transporter.  The agony she had felt... And Chakotay.  "What
happened?" she asked unsteadily.

"There was a transporter accident."

Janeway narrowed her eyes, gazing up at him.  "What kind of accident?"

The Doctor snapped the tricorder shut and spoke, not answering her
question.  "Well, you're healthy as the proverbial horse.  You might
have a bit of a headache for a while, but that will soon fade..."

"Doctor.  What kind of accident?"  His uniform was slightly different
too, she noticed.  Suspicion began to creep up on her.

The hologram sighed and set the tricorder down.  "Are you sure you're
ready to hear this?"

The suspicion was doing more than just sneaking now. It had on large
army boots and was clattering loudly across her consciousness.
"Doctor..."  Her tone was menacing.

"All right, but just remember, you asked."

Janeway waited silently and, with a sigh, he continued.  "It was the
kind of transporter accident that picked you up and whisked you across
space-time into an alternate universe.  This isn't your ship, it's not
your crew, and I'm not your emergency holographic program.  Welcome
aboard, Captain Janeway."

She stared silently up at him while her suspicions leaped out and
whacked her over the head with a large shovel.  Transporter accident.
Alternate universe.  Oh my. Well, that explained why Chakotay was
still on board... Her mind was beginning to ramble, she realized
distantly, as she struggled to take it all in.

The Doctor was still speaking.  With an effort she refocused on him
and interrupted.  "What?"

"I said...'there's one more thing you should know'."

"What?"  Dimly she wondered what else the day could hold.  So far, she
had been dragged out of her universe and dropped into this one, had
experienced pain, the memory of which still curled her toes and would
probably give her nightmares for a week, and had been soundly and
thoroughly kissed by her First Officer.  Former First Officer.
Alternate Universe version of her former First Officer. What more
could possibly happen?

"We don't know how to send you back," the Doctor said.

Oh.  Ask a stupid question.  Janeway muttered something.

"Pardon?"

"I said," she repeated, louder, "I guess I'm not in Kansas anymore,
Toto."  And then she had to resist the insane desire to laugh at the
expression on the Doctor's face.


Janeway was still coming to terms with her altered reality ten minutes
later, when the door to sickbay opened and B'Elanna Torres catapulted
in.  "I feel fine..." she was saying, sitting on the edge of the
biobed, as the Klingon arrived.  Both turned toward the newcomer...and
B'Elanna took three quick paces across the room where, without pause,
she threw both arms around Janeway and hugged her tightly.  "You're
alive," she said, a note of sheer joy in her voice.

Janeway sat frozen with surprise, but before she had time to even
frame a reply, the woman had hastily released her, her face showing
embarrassment.  "Uh...sorry, Captain. It's just..."

"What do you mean, 'I'm alive'?"  More nasty suspicions began to
parade in formation across Janeway's mind.

B'Elanna turned to the Doctor, their eyes meeting in quick, silent
communication -- a conversation in which Janeway was obviously *not*
included.  "What's going on?" she asked, more forcefully.

The Doctor spoke, but not to her.  "Capt...Chakotay ordered us not to
tell her."

"She has a right to know."

"Excuse me."  Janeway cleared her throat, and they both looked back at
her.  With careful calm, she spoke:  "First...I'd like you both to
stop speaking about me as if I weren't here, and second...I want to
know what is going on.  Now!"  The last word snapped out, heavily
laden with every last ounce of command phrasing she had.

B'Elanna didn't quite snap to attention, but it was a near thing.
"All right," she said to Janeway.  "I'll tell you."

The Doctor shot her a glance.  "Chakotay will not be happy with you,
Lieutenant."

"Since when did that ever stop me?"  She shot him a small smile then
turned back to Janeway, who was waiting with studied patience.  "This
could take a while."

"I'm not going anywhere," the Captain replied, folding her arms and
sitting back.

B'Elanna sighed then pulled herself onto the adjoining biobed,
perching on the edge.  She frowned at the hologram. "Doctor."

"Yes?"

"Go away."

He snorted, an offended look appearing on his face. When he made no
move to go, B'Elanna spoke again. "Computer, deactivate..."

"Never mind," he interrupted hastily.  "I can do it myself, thank
you."  He turned to Janeway.  "If you need anything, you know where to
find me."  Then, with one more baleful look at the Klingon, he
deactivated himself.

Janeway waited until he had completely vanished, then turned back to
B'Elanna.  "Well?"  Her tone was softer now and filled with what might
have been trepidation.  Suddenly she was certain that she didn't want
to hear this.  And just as certain that she *had* to.

"Well, to start with, in this Universe, you're... well... you're
dead."


Janeway had taken the news of her appearance in this universe and her
alter-ego's death rather well, she thought.  After all, it wasn't as
if she had never heard of alternate universes.  She had read the
reports of the original Enterprise's foray into what they called the
"Mirror Universe" and of the crew of DS9's further experiences with
that reality.  And she had even met herself once, when Voyager had
split into two separate ships.  She had died in that reality too, she
remembered.

So, the concept of a reality where she was dead wasn't that difficult
to cope with.  No, the worst part was dealing with everybody else's
reaction to her.  Well, B'Elanna's and Chakotay's, so far.  Especially
Chakotay's.  No.  She wouldn't think about that now.  Instead, she
forced herself to concentrate on B'Elanna's words.

"You...er...our Captain Janeway...died eight months ago.

"How?"  Her voice was flat.

The Klingon shifted uncomfortably.  "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Yes."

B'Elanna sighed.  "There was...a shuttle accident."

Janeway couldn't say she was surprised.  If this reality was anything
like her own, there would have been an ongoing series of shuttle
accidents over the past few years.  Lately it had seemed like her crew
couldn't take a shuttlecraft *anywhere* without crashing it.  She was
really going to have to do something about that -- maybe a refresher
course in shuttlecraft piloting, or... With an inward kick, she
rounded up her roving thoughts and returned her attention to the
conversation.

"Your...Captain Janeway's shuttle was caught in an ion storm.  It
crash-landed and..."  B'Elanna choked on the words.

"Was I...was she...alone?"  Janeway asked gently, a hunch growing
within her.

"No."

Janeway had never heard the Engineer sound so upset. Hesitantly she
reached out to touch the other woman's shoulder.  B'Elanna jerked
backwards, twisting away before she could make contact.  Then the
Klingon took a deep breath and said, steadily enough:

"Tom Paris was piloting the shuttle.  He died instantly on impact."
Her eyes shone with unshed tears and she wiped them away fiercely with
the back of one sleeve.

"Oh, B'Elanna..."  Janeway didn't know what to say. For a moment it
felt as if *her* Tom Paris had died. Giving in to her instincts, she
reached out and pulled the other woman into a hug.  B'Elanna
stiffened, as if she would pull away then, without warning, relaxed
and leaned her head against Janeway's shoulder.


Janeway's tunic was slightly damp by the time B'Elanna pulled away,
looking embarrassed again.  "Sorry," the Engineer said, her voice
slightly muffled.  "I thought I was over this.  It's just..."  Her
voice trailed off.

"I know."  Janeway surreptitiously brushed away a tear of her own.  "I
know," she said again, pain lacing her words.

"Anyway," B'Elanna continued determinedly, after Tom ... died ... you
... uh ... she sent a distress signal. Voyager came as quickly as it
could, but your injuries were too severe.  You died a few hours before
we arrived.  We retrieved your body and...and Tom's...and you were
both buried in space."  She paused, then forged onward.  "I know that
you left a log, but Chakotay is the only one of us who's ever seen it.
Tom...didn't have the chance to leave a message."

Hurriedly, the Klingon stood and took several paces toward the door,
holding her emotions ruthlessly in check. "I've got to go, Captain.  I
just...thought you should know what happened.  And...I wanted to see
you again.  With you here, it's...almost like the accident never
happened.  Not really.  It's almost as if..."  Abruptly, she turned
and moved rapidly toward the exit.  Silent and unmoving, Janeway
watched her go.

The sickbay doors had swung open for her when B'Elanna paused in the
doorway and turned back.  "There's just one more thing..."

Janeway waited.  After a pause, B'Elanna continued. "I know he
probably doesn't want you to know this...but, I think you should.
Captain Janeway...was five months pregnant when she died... And...and
Chakotay was the father."

And with that shattering disclosure, she was gone.

---
Part Three- REUNIONS
---

Janeway sat in stunned silence.  Pregnant.  With Chakotay's child.  No
wonder he had looked so shattered when she had appeared on the
transporter pad.  She could only imagine the pain her presence must be
causing him. She would be a living reminder of everything he had lost,
of everything he...and the other Janeway...had shared.

The pang of...it must be jealousy...that went through her startled
her.  True, she had accepted the fact that she loved *her* Chakotay,
but to have it all paraded before her like this... Why did it suddenly
feel as if this universe was mocking her for giving up a chance at
happiness, was showing her what she *could* have had, if only she had
been a little less foolish, a little more courageous?  A wave of
longing went through her.  "Oh Chakotay," she thought unhappily, "what
have I done?"  Only the deepening silence answered her.


The next visitor to sickbay entered with less alacrity than B'Elanna,
but the sound of the doors sliding open startled Janeway nonetheless.
Her eyes flew to the entrance, her heart thudding, then she slowly
relaxed.  It was Tuvok.

The Vulcan wore his normal expression of serenity and, when he spoke,
his voice was composed.  "Captain."

"Tuvok."  Janeway struggled for similar composure.

"The Ca...Chakotay...asked me to see if there was anything you
needed."

Disappointment flooded through her.  Chakotay hadn't come.  And then
she berated herself.  Why would he?  Why put himself through
unnecessary pain?  She sighed then sat up a little straighter.  "For
one thing," she said firmly, "you can all stop pussy-footing around
the truth.  I know that Chakotay is your Captain now.  And I know that
your Kathryn Janeway died eight months ago."

One Vulcan eyebrow arched a little higher.  "May I ask how..."

"B'Elanna told me."

"I...see."  Something flickered briefly across Tuvok's face.  Janeway
looked away, ignoring the momentary lapse in the Vulcan's calm.

"And I know...everything else," she continued steadily.

Tuvok met her eyes.  "Then you understand why Captain Chakotay felt
that it would be better if he did not come to see you in person.  But
he did ask me to tell you that we are working on a way to send you
back to your reality as quickly as possible."

"Can't wait to get rid of me, huh?"  Janeway regretted the words as
soon as they were out of her mouth.  She wasn't coping with any of
this particularly well...hadn't coped with *anything* well since *her*
Chakotay had left Voyager two months ago.  And she was doing
particularly badly here.  "It's a good thing no one is keeping score,"
she thought randomly.

"On the contrary, Captain," Tuvok was saying, "it is... good...to see
you again.  The crew has missed you."

Janeway shifted uncomfortably.  "Missed her, you mean."

There was a brief pause, then:  "Yes."

Janeway shivered slightly and turned away, folding her arms tightly
around herself.

"Captain?"

She glanced back at him.  "It's nothing.  It's just that...I'm
starting to feel like a reflection of her.  Like somebody else's
ghost.  It's...a little disconcerting."

"I understand.  If you wish to remain in sickbay for the duration of
your visit..."

Part of her wanted to, very much.  To go out there and walk in the
footsteps of a dead woman, seeing all those faces, being the focus of
all those emotions... She couldn't.  She wasn't *their* Kathryn
Janeway, after all. And what would it do to them when she left again?
No. Better to stay in here where it was safe...

Safe.  Another shudder rippled through her.  She had never in her life
taken the safe route.  She had faced to whatever life had thrown at
her, had never hidden from anything... Except...isn't that what she
had been doing for the last two months?  She had let Chakotay go, had
given him up without a fight, because she was afraid.  Afraid of her
own feelings, afraid of what might happen... A sick feeling went
through her.  What if she had pushed him away subconsciously, because
of her own fears?  What if...?

Tuvok had stopped speaking and was staring down at her, his left
eyebrow climbing even higher.  Janeway dragged her thoughts back to
the present and met his eyes. "No," she said slowly, "I...might be
able to help.  I should go to Engineering."

Tuvok nodded impassively.  "As you wish.  I will escort you."

She shot him a sidelong look as she climbed to her feet.  "I know the
way, Tuvok."

"Nevertheless..."  His tone was unyielding.

Janeway sighed again and nodded.  She could understand his caution.
She was an unknown element.  If their roles had been reversed she
would have done exactly the same thing.  Still, she found his presence
unnerving.  She would rather have dealt with this alone... Squaring
her shoulders and fighting off the feeling that she was about to run a
long, rather unpleasant gauntlet, Janeway moved toward the exit, her
Vulcan shadow a pace behind her.


It was worse than she had expected.  Although Tuvok had assured her
that the crew had been warned of her presence, the stares were
nonetheless daunting.  Crewmembers came to a halt as she passed and
turned to watch her go, expressions of sorrow, hope, loss, and a
myriad of other emotions written on their faces.  One young Ensign had
even burst into tears as she passed.  It was all more than a little
unsettling.

As if sensing her discomfort, Tuvok broke the silence that had fallen
between them.  "Are you all right, Captain?"  Together they had
rounded a corner and stepped into the turbolift.

"I'm fine.  It's just...I'm starting to feel like the Ghost of
Kathryns Past..."

He turned his head to her.  "I beg your pardon?"

"Sorry.  Wordplay.  Haven't you ever read Charles Dickens?"

"Ah.  No.  I have not."

Janeway frowned.  "My Tuvok has.  I recommended "A Christmas Carol" a
few..."  Her voice trailed off then she continued shakily.  "A few
months ago."  Suddenly it all became more that she could bear.  The
pain of this crew, her own unhappiness... A wave of homesickness for
her own Voyager swept over her, causing her throat to tighten and her
fists to clench.  She blinked furiously.

"I do understand, Captain," the Vulcan was saying, "This is not easy
for any of us."

Janeway glanced at him and bit her lip.  She hesitated for a long
moment, then squared her shoulders.  "Tuvok..."

"Yes, Captain?"

"B'Elanna told me about...her pregnancy.  And her relationship with
Chakotay.  Could you tell me...how it happened?"

Tuvok's lips twitched slightly.  "If you are referring to the
pregnancy, I was not present at the time, but I assume it occurred in
the normal fashion..."

Janeway felt a fiery blush begin to creep over her face.  "That's not
what I meant..." she started to say.

"But," Tuvok continued, ignoring her.  "If you mean her relationship
with Captain Chakotay, you would do better to ask the Captain."  There
was a brief pause.  "And he could probably give you in-depth
information about the first half of your question as well..."

Janeway's blush deepened and she cast him an furtive glance.  "Tuvok,"
she thought, shaking her head slightly, "never let anyone tell you
that Vulcans don't have a sense of humour..."  Out loud, she said, "I
can't."

"Why not?"  There was nothing but polite interest in the question.

"Because...because it would hurt too much.  I don't want him to be
hurt any more.  *I* don't want to be hurt any more.  I just...I just
want to go home."  A plaintive note had crept into her voice and she
cursed herself for allowing her emotions to be so transparently
obvious. Tuvok politely ignored her as she struggled to regain her
self-control.  And then the turbolift doors swung open. Janeway bolted
forward, eager to distract herself with the problem at hand.

"Captain..."

Janeway came to a halt and paused on the threshold. She did not look
back.  "Yes?"

"May I inquire if you and Commander Chakotay share a similar
relationship in your reality?"

"No.  We don't."  Her words were flat and uncompromising and, her back
stiff, Janeway stepped out into Engineering.  Wordlessly Tuvok
followed.


This had been a mistake, Janeway had decided after half an hour.  Her
mind refused to focus and it was painfully obvious that she was only
disrupting the engineers' work.  They could find the solution without
her, she had decided abruptly and had left Engineering, the gold-clad
security guard who had relieved Tuvok, a step or two behind her.  She
cast him a sidelong look as they walked through the ship's corridors
together.

"Are you all right, Ensign?"  Janeway asked cautiously.  The security
guard was young, nervous, and looked as if he either wanted to run
away...or hug her. She hoped it wasn't the latter -- her nerves were
so highly strung that any human contact would probably cause her to
burst into tears.

She had never understood the true extent of her crew's feelings for
her, she realized.  She had known they cared, but never how much.
Since her departure from sickbay, she had been treated like a
combination of the Shroud of Turin and Jacob Marley's ghost.  When she
had entered Engineering, everyone had either paled, dropped something,
or rubbed at suddenly damp eyes.  Her own emotions too, were riding
perilously near the surface.  Nevertheless, gritting her teeth, she
forged determinedly on.


They reached the mess hall rapidly.  At first, Janeway had been
tempted to flee back to her makeshift quarters (she hadn't dared ask
what had happened to *her* quarters in this reality) but had veered
off instead and headed for the mess hall, her security guard trailing
obediently behind.  She was hungry, she told herself, and the mess
hall was the most convenient...but that was a lie.  She could have
easily replicated something for herself in whatever cabin they put
her...but she hadn't wanted to.

No.  If she were to be honest with herself, she would admit that she
was prowling the corridors in the vain hope of seeing Chakotay.

This was insane.  He would either be on the Bridge or in his quarters,
avoiding her... It would only cause both of them more anguish to meet.
And yet that didn't stop her from wanting... Janeway shook her head,
cursing herself under her breath as they reached the mess hall doors.
She paused on the threshold and gave a quick, furtive glance around --
Empty.  Good -- then went in.  The tension in her neck and between her
shoulder blades eased slightly as she led her security escort toward a
table near the far wall...and a small, furry whirlwind launched itself
out of the kitchen, engulfing her in a rib-breaking hug.  Janeway
gasped and stiffened as Neelix enfolded her in his arms, swaying a
little as his weight threw her off-balance.

"Captain Janeway!  It's so very very good to see you again.  I can't
put it into words what this means to me." The Talaxian's voice
quavered and his arms tightened around her, causing her to wince.  She
could swear she could heard her ribs creaking.

"Um...Neelix.  I can't breathe..."  she managed to say.  He released
her immediately, stepping back and surreptitiously swiping at his
eyes.  Then he gave her a watery smile.  "I'm sorry, Captain.  It's
just...I'd heard you were here and I wanted so much to see you just
one more time, to tell you how much we've all missed you and..."

"Neelix..." Janeway said gently.

He didn't stop.  "And I realize that you're not our Captain Janeway,
well not really, but it still means so much to this crew just to know
that you're alive *somewhere*.  It's almost as if you're not really
dead... not really.  And...and...would you like some coffee?"  He came
to a sudden halt.

"I...yes, please."

Neelix beamed then reached out and guided her to a chair.  "You just
sit here and relax, Captain, and I'll get you a nice hot cup of
coffee.  And maybe a snack..." Muttering to himself, he retreated to
the kitchen, keeping one eye on the Captain as if he feared she would
disappear.

Janeway sank down in the chair, reaction going through her.  Too much
had happened too quickly.  She needed time to find a way to deal
with...everything...  Sighing, Janeway glanced up at the security
guard who was hovering nearby.  "Why don't you get yourself something
to eat," she suggested.  When he hesitated, she smiled slightly.
"Don't worry, Ensign.  I'm not going to run away.  You can see me from
the kitchen.  And...I'd like to be alone for a while.  Please?"

The man frowned and bit his lip.  "I'm sorry... Captain.  But
Lieutenant Tuvok said to..."  And then his gaze slid over her left
shoulder and an expression of relief appeared on his face.  "Yes,
Ma'am," he said in a much happier tone before turning abruptly and
heading toward the kitchen at high speed.

Janeway stiffened and a faint shiver of trepidation went through her.
She closed her eyes briefly, took a deep breath, opened them and said
calmly:  "Have a seat,Chakotay."

---
PART FOUR -- CONVERSATIONS
---

"Have a seat Chakotay."

Janeway sat motionless in her chair, tension coursing through her body
and tightening the muscles in her neck. What was she supposed to say?
And what would he say to her?  He wasn't *her* Chakotay; she wasn't
his... anything. Her eyes closed briefly in pain.

When she opened them again, he was sitting quietly in front of her,
his hands folded on the table and his expression carefully hooded.
Waiting.

Janeway took a deep breath.  "I...didn't expect to see you."

Something flickered briefly, deep within his emotionless eyes, and
then it was gone.  "I know," he said. "I thought it would be
better...not to come."

"So what made you change your mind?"  Once again a fleeting emotion
passed across his face, and Janeway realized that his calm demeanour
was a lie.  He was as nervous about this as she was.  More, probably.  

Chakotay paused, as if gathering his thoughts, and then, rather like
someone about to plunge off a cliff, said:  "I couldn't stay away.
Kathryn."

The raw grief in his voice made her flinch and Janeway looked away,
unable to face him.  He was still talking, she realized, as if those
few words had opened the floodgates within him.  "When I first saw
you, I thought *she* had somehow come back...had somehow found a way
to cheat death one more time.  And then, when I realized what had
happened..."  His voice trailed off.

"Yes?" she prompted gently, tentatively meeting his eyes.

There was a long pause, then:  "It was like losing her all over
again."  His voice shook.

Impulsively Janeway reached out and touched his hand. His fingers
tightened spasmodically around hers, so tight that, in another time
and place, she would have tried to pull free.  But not here.  Not now.
She didn't move, concentrating instead on blinking away the tears that
had formed in her eyes.  "Oh Chakotay."  Her own voice was unsteady.
"I'm so sorry.  I wish..."

He ducked his head, breaking their eye contact, but making no attempt
to release her hand.  For a moment there was only silence, then
Janeway leaned forward and touched his wrist lightly with her other
hand.  "Would you...like to talk about it?"  She wasn't entirely
certain she wanted to hear what he would say...but she could no more
ignore his need than she could forego breathing.

He nodded once then straightened and looked at her again, suddenly
realizing the strength of his grasp.  Hastily he released her.  "Yes,"
he said, his expression once more shrouded.  "But not here.  Will
you...come with me?"

Janeway nodded in turn and climbed slowly to her feet, feeling as if
she had aged a year in the last few hours. Conflicting desires -- to
lay down and sleep for a week; to run away at high speed down the
corridors; and to fling herself sobbing into his arms -- warred within
her, but in the end, she did none of them.  She cast the man beside
her a quick, uncertain glance, then followed him out of the mess hall.


Janeway was surprised to find them heading for where her quarters
would have been, if she had been on her own Voyager.  She frowned as
they neared their destination and the suspicion became certainty as
Chakotay brought her to a halt outside her own cabin.  Or rather, the
*other* Kathryn Janeway's cabin.  She gave him a questioning look.

He didn't meet her eyes.  "We...moved into her quarters because they
were larger."

Oh.  Janeway nodded and took a deep breath, steeling herself for what
she would find.  The sense she had had earlier, of being someone
else's ghost, came back full force and she had to stop herself from
asking that he take her somewhere else.  Something deep inside her
balked at the idea of setting foot inside the dead woman's quarters.

And then it was too late.  The doors had slid open and Chakotay was
ushering her inside.  She hesitated, squared her shoulders, and
stepped over the threshold.  Chakotay followed and the doors closed
smoothly behind them.

Janeway flinched at the sound, then regained control of herself, not
moving as Chakotay ordered the lights turned on.  Not looking at her,
he moved a few paces away, to stare out the window at the stars
streaming by.  He said nothing.  An uncomfortable silence descended.

Slowly, hesitantly, Janeway looked around at her surroundings, and a
pang went through her.  His possessions were scattered throughout the
cabin, mingled with the other Janeway's.  Some she recognized, some
she did not.  She took a careful step forward toward a crystal
ornament on a nearby table.  She cast a hesitant look at Chakotay's
back -- he did not turn around -- then touched the glass lightly.

"My grandmother gave me this," she said softly, almost to herself.
"On my..."

"On your thirteenth birthday.  And you were terrified that you would
break it."

Janeway pulled her finger back as if stung, and shot him another look.
He had turned to face her, but made no other attempt to move toward
her.  Bolder now, she turned back to the rest of the room.

"Why did you never move back after...after the accident?" Janeway
asked as she moved through the cabin.

"I couldn't.  I...felt closer to her here."

Janeway started to turn back to him, but her attention was caught by
an odd looking contraption on the wall that looked vaguely like a set
of anaemic bagpipes.  Her brow furrowing, she gave it a cautious poke.
Nothing happened.

"Uillean pipes," Chakotay supplied for her.  "Kathryn was learning to
play them."

"Good heavens, why?"  The question came out sharper than she had
intended him and she shot him a guilty look, then felt relief as he
smiled for the first time since she had met him, the shadows around
him lifting momentarily.

"I asked her the same thing.  Do you have any idea how bad those
things can sound when someone is just learning? The first time I heard
them I thought someone was murdering a Bolian..."

Janeway smiled cautiously back.  "That bad, huh?"

"Worse."

For a moment they smiled at each other, the underlying tensions
between them temporarily forgotten...and then memory returned and his
grin faded.  So did Janeway's.  She turned back to the pipes, brushing
their fabric lightly. "I'm sorry she's dead," she said simply.

"So am I."  There was only naked honesty in his voice now.  "I loved
her very much."

Janeway flinched and Chakotay took a step forward. "I'm sorry if I
upset you," he said.

"No, it's not that.  It's just..."  She shook her head uncertainly.

"It's just that you and your Chakotay don't share a similar
relationship," he supplied for her.  "I know. Tuvok told me."

Janeway shook her head again, more forcefully.  "No. It's not that
either..."

Chakotay frowned in confusion.  "You do have a rel...?"

"No.  I...look, can we sit down?"

He gave her a questioning look, hesitated, then nodded and moved
toward the sofa.  Janeway did likewise, trying not to stiffen as he
sat down beside her.  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
For a long moment, neither spoke.

"You haven't asked how much progress B'Elanna is making on the
transporters," Chakotay said at last, breaking the silence.

Her tongue darted out to lick dry lips.  "All right," she replied, a
faint tremor in her voice, "how much progress is B'Elanna...?"

He smiled faintly, a smile which did not reach his eyes.  "She thinks
we'll be able to send you back in a few hours.  By tomorrow morning at
the latest.  It's just a matter of recalibrating the..."

She angled her body to face him.  "Chakotay."  Her voice cut him off.
"I don't care about any recalibrations. I... I need to know if you'll
be all right...when I leave."

He gave her a crooked smile.  "I won't be jumping out any airlocks, if
that's what you mean.  The crew needs me..."

"No," she said fiercely, reaching out to touch his hand again, "that
wasn't what I meant."

He stared down at her fingertips, lightly touching his, and a tremor
seemed to go through him.  "I know."  And then he had pulled her into
a tight hug, his arms roughly enfolding her.  "Kathryn," he whispered
brokenly into her hair.

Janeway didn't struggle.  Instead, her own arms moved up, almost of
their own accord, to return the embrace, her eyes closing as he pulled
her even closer.  "It will be all right," she said tremulously,
"somehow..."

Abruptly she found herself wrenched back as Chakotay broke the
embrace, his grip shifting so that he held her firmly by both
shoulders.  "Kathryn," he said urgently, "there were so many things I
wanted to say to you...to her...but time caught me out and I thought
I'd never say them.  But you're here now.  I *know* you're not her,
but...will you listen?  Please?"

He had begun to speak even as she was nodding unsteadily, his hands
seizing on both of hers, clinging to them like a drowning man.  And,
as she listened, part of her mind returned to her own world, to the
Chakotay she had lost...

He had loved her.  She no longer had any doubts, not now, not
listening to the pain of his alter-ego, sitting beside her.  And she
loved him.  She wanted nothing more than to hold him close, somehow
take all his pain away...Inwardly she shook herself.  Her feelings for
the two of them were growing confused.  Determinedly she thought of
the man she had last seen in the freezing Calasha'an rain, of the
cold, stubborn expression on his face...

It didn't do any good.  She couldn't focus on anything  except *this*
version of Chakotay, could hear nothing but *his* voice, could feel
only his hands on hers...

He was talking about the child they had lost and a tear splashed down
her face.  A wave of grief so strong she thought she would choke,
crashed over her.  And, just for an instant, it was as if it was her
child that had died. The pain inside her grew.

"Chakotay..." she started to say raggedly, another tear curling down
her cheek.

He broke off in mid-sentence and looked -- really *looked* at her --
and guilt flashed across his face.  "I'm sorry," he said hoarsely.  "I
have no right...to burden you with all this.  I just..."

"No.  It's not that."  She shrugged helplessly.  "It's just...I wish
it didn't hurt so much...for both of us." She freed one hand to brush
furtively at her eyes, struggling to regain her composure.

When she looked back at him, he was staring intently at her.  There
was a brief pause, then he said simply, "Tell me."

"It's...nothing.  It doesn't even begin to compare with what you've
gone through..."

He cut her off in mid-sentence by brushing one finger lightly across
her lips.  Janeway shuddered.  "Tell me," he said again.

And so she did.  She told him about *her* Chakotay leaving the ship
and how she had realized too late she loved him -- she had flinched
slightly as she said that. Even now, it was still somehow difficult to
say.  And she told him how she had almost turned the ship around,
countless times, but had never quite managed to take that final step.
She told him of her pain and grief and loneliness, and a hundred other
things.  Finally she came to the end and fell silent, feeling, of all
things, relief, that she had finally told *someone*.  For an instant,
it almost seemed like old times.  She had unburdened herself to her
First Officer and now only had to wait for him to put it all in
perspective, to somehow make everything all right.

Chakotay's first words shattered that illusion. "Kathryn Janeway," he
said slowly, "You are a fool."

She blinked at him.  "Excuse me?"

"You heard."  He leaned back, releasing her hands and frowning at her.
"You are a complete and utter idiot."

Her powers of speech deserted her and she stared glassily at him,
feeling rather like someone who had just been caught in a stun beam.
Whatever she had been expecting him to say, it wasn't that.

Ignoring her discomfiture, the man went on.  "You love him, you know
he loves you.  If he's anything at all like me, he..."  For an instant
his voice wavered, "he would sell his soul for you.  Most importantly,
you're both alive and in the same universe...or will be soon.  And yet
you're allowing some insane sense of duty and your own stubborn pride
to stand in your way."

"Is that what I'm doing?" she said in a cold, flat voice, faint
feelings of anger beginning to stir within her.

Chakotay let out a sharp bark of laughter.  "You see? You're doing it
now.  You refuse to let others get too close to you, refuse to admit
that you *need* people too. You're so busy being strong for everyone
else that you forget to ask for help when you need it.  'No man is an
island,' Kathryn, and no woman is either..."  Abruptly he broke off
and looked away, a shaken expression on his face.

"What is it?" Janeway asked, her momentary flash of anger already
fading under the truth of his words. Everything he had said was true,
she realized unhappily. She *did* try to be self-sufficient, to never
admit weakness, to never let anyone get *too* close to her... He was
right.  Damn him.  And damn her.  "What is it?" she asked again, more
quietly.

Chakotay swallowed deeply before he met her eyes. "It's just...I had
the same conversation with my Kathryn just over a year ago."

"And how did that one end?"  Janeway asked slowly.

"I kissed her."  Almost reluctantly, his gaze wandered down to her
lips.  Janeway froze, unable to move or think, and then another,
older, more instinctive part of her took over and she leaned forward,
just slightly.

It was enough.  Very, very slowly, Chakotay raised one tremulous hand
her cheek and brushed the skin lightly, a feather's touch.  As he did,
electricity shot through her body and she forgot to breathe.
Something inside her was screaming at her to stop, that this was a bad
idea.  This was not *her* Chakotay...she didn't love this man.  She
didn't even know him.  But his pain called to her, and her own aching
sense of loneliness allowed him to draw closer. She was so tired of
being alone.  Just once, she wanted someone to ease the loneliness...
Just this once... Her eyes flickered shut.  It would be so easy to
pretend...

...and the sound of the door chime broke the silence.

Janeway and Chakotay pulled apart as if they had been shot and turned
equally shaken gazes to the door.  "Come in," Chakotay said
automatically, and Janeway hastily moved farther away, trying to
rearrange her expression from what she was sure was one of stunned
incoherence, into one of calm.

It didn't work.  B'Elanna Torres took one pace inside the room, looked
at them both and stopped dead, immediately starting to back out, a
myriad of emotions on her face. "Ah...sorry," the Klingon said
rapidly, "I'll... uh...come back later."

Chakotay climbed to his feet, a familiar expressionless mask coming
down over his face.  "Never mind that, Lieutenant.  Just report."

B'Elanna shot them both an uncomfortable glance, then straightened her
shoulders and, looking only at him, said:  "Yes, Sir.  I...just came
to tell you that we've rigged the transporters.  We can send Captain
Janeway back to her universe at any time."  A muffled note of anguish
came and went in her voice, so quickly that Janeway wasn't sure she
had really heard it.  And then B'Elanna gave them both a quick,
uncertain look and turned and bolted from the room. The doors slid
closed behind her and an awkward silence fell.  Janeway blinked, her
emotions still churning.

Finally Chakotay turned back to Janeway, who was still sitting
motionless on the sofa.  "What now?"

Janeway stared down at her hands, curled tightly in her lap and said
hollowly:  "I don't know."

---
PART FIVE -- GOODBYES
---

Janeway felt cold.  Which was ridiculous.  The transporter room, like
the rest of Voyager, maintained a careful and constant temperature,
designed for maximum comfort for most humanoid lifeforms.  True, if
she were a Vulcan, she might have had an excuse, but she wasn't and
she didn't.  No, the ambient temperature around her had nothing to do
with the chills running down her spine or the icy numbness of her
fingers.  She rubbed surreptitiously at them, carefully not looking at
the transporter console where Chakotay was talking with B'Elanna.
Instead, she turned aside and stared steadfastly at the wall, trying
to silence the clamour within her mind.

What had she done?  For that matter, what was she doing?  If B'Elanna
had not interrupted them in Chakotay's cabin... Well, she didn't know
what might have happened.  She liked to think that her common sense
would have reasserted itself... but she couldn't be sure.  In fact,
she had more than a sneaking suspicion that if they had not been
interrupted, she would have willingly fallen into bed with the man.

Which would have been a disaster.  He wasn't *her* Chakotay, Janeway
reminded herself forcibly.  He wasn't the man with whom she had shared
the last few years... Not the man with whom she had fallen in love.
He was a stranger, someone she had only met yesterday.  It didn't
matter that he looked, sounded, talked, moved exactly the same as her
Chakotay...he wasn't the same.  And he wasn't hers.

Then why did the thought of leaving this reality... him...fill her
with such a sense of dread and loss?  Why did she want to stay so
badly, and try to ease his pain? She could, Janeway knew.  It would be
so easy to step into the dead woman's shoes...to *become* her, to take
over her existence from where *she* had left off.  She could build a
life with this Chakotay, maybe even have the family she had always
wanted.  And the rest of the crew -- they all needed her so
desperately.  She could help B'Elanna come to terms with the loss of
Tom Paris, could...

No.  How could she even be thinking this?  Her own crew needed her.
And she needed them.

But.  What if...

Her mind shied away from the thought immediately but it refused to go
away.  Shuddering inwardly, she continued her examination of the wall.

What if she had already lost her own Chakotay forever? Even if she did
order the ship back to Calasha'an, he could still refuse to come with
her.  Wouldn't it be better to seize what happiness she could, here
with this man, in this reality?

No.

Janeway must have made some move, because Chakotay glanced up at her,
meeting her eyes.  Something of what she was feeling must have shown
on her face, because a look of pure anguish crossed his own.  Janeway
swallowed and looked away.

Chakotay.

For an instant her resolution wavered, and Janeway took a tremulous
step forward.  Chakotay moved forward hastily, intercepting her.

"The transporters are ready, Captain," he said formally as she came to
a halt.  "If this is going to work, you need to go.  Now.  I'll
operate the transporters myself."  He shot a glance over his shoulder
at B'Elanna, who nodded once, met Janeway's eyes briefly, then left
the room.

Janeway waited until the doors had closed behind B'Elanna before
turning to the man before her. "Chakotay... I..."

He shook his head, a quick, reflexive gesture. "Kathryn."  The raw
grief was back in his voice and she winced.  "I don't want you to go,
but..."  He stopped.

"But I have to."  She swallowed deeply.  "I'm not sure I want to go
either, but..."  Her voice broke.  "Chakotay," she managed to say...

...And then she was in his arms, his lips desperately seeking hers,
his arms tightening around her.  She didn't know...didn't care...how
she had got there, who had moved first, she just kissed him back
desperately, passion and blinding need mingling with loss and
loneliness.  For one senses-shattering moment nothing else mattered
--not the ship, not the crew, nothing but the man in her arms.

And then something within her caused her to pull back and Janeway
reluctantly stepped away from him, back onto the transporter pad.  He
let her go, his arms falling away, his eyes locked on hers.  She drew
an unsteady breath and said softly:  "I'm sorry."

"So am I.  Goodbye Kathryn.  I...I love you."

She almost lost control then.  Tears clouded her vision and she
hastily averted her eyes, blinking furiously.  She ran an unsteady
hand across her eyes, hearing him walking away as she did so, back
toward the console.  A tremor went through her, but she forced herself
to remain still.  "This is for the best," she thought desperately.  "I
don't belong here.  I could never belong here..."  Hesitantly she
looked up...and her heart splintered.  He was crying.  Silent tears
were falling down his cheeks even as his hands moved across the panel.

"Chakotay," she said again, taking a hasty half-step forward, not
certain what she was going to do...

...and the transporter beam engulfed her.

Janeway tried to cry out but he was already fading from her vision,
cold grey fog replacing the lone figure by the console...

...and then he was gone.


"No!"  Janeway lurching forward.  She lurched forward, but caught
herself with an effort.  Taking a deep shuddering breath, she
cautiously looked around.

Her surroundings had not changed.  She was still in Voyager's
transporter room...except now it was empty.  He was gone.  The shaft
of pain that went through her left her blinded and blinking away
tears.  Janeway bit her lip.  She could deal with her emotions
later...right now there were more pressing concerns...like where she
was.  Had she returned to her own reality...or to yet another mirror
universe?

Somewhat nervously, Janeway put her hand to her communicator pin.
"Janeway to bridge."  No answer.  She tried again.  Still nothing.
She bit her lip.  "Computer?"

"Working."

A ripple of relief went through her.  "Computer, what is the ship's
status?"

The flat tones of the machine did much to reassure her.  "Voyager is
travelling at warp four on a course heading..."

"Never mind.  Is...is Commander Chakotay on board?" She found her
stomach muscles clenching in anticipation. If she hadn't made it back,
if...

"Commander Chakotay is not on board."

"When did he leave?"

"Two months, eight days..."

Janeway turned away, not listening to the rest.  An enormous sigh of
relief shook her.  Two months.  He was still on Calasha'an.  And she
was home.

Suddenly the events of the last several hours seemed to catch up with
her and she sank abruptly to the edge of the transporter pad, sitting
heavily and resting her arms on her knees.  A hundred emotions whirled
within her -- relief, grief, loss, joy, fear...and an overwhelming
sense of betrayal.

She had hurt him.  Hurt them both.  She had driven her own Chakotay
away with her unwillingness to move beyond her own fears, her
inability to face her own emotions...and she had left the other
Chakotay behind, destroying whatever happiness he might have had with
her.  How had she managed to hurt them both so badly?  Despair rose up
within her like bile and she clenched her fists tightly, afraid that
if she let go, even for just a moment, she would lose control
entirely.

Part of it was shock, Janeway realized distantly.  The trip back,
while less painful than her first unexpected sidetrip, had still left
her reeling, both physically and emotionally.  That, and the strain of
the past few days were becoming too much.  For an instant, she wanted
nothing more than to lay down where she was, close her eyes, and make
the world go away.  But it wouldn't, and she couldn't. There was
something she had to do first.

For a long moment Janeway sat unmoving.  Finally, a lifetime later,
she straightened and rose slowly, determination replacing the misery
that had masked her face.  Moving purposefully, she turned and left
the transporter room.


Her trip through the corridor was eerily reminiscent of her walk
through the other Voyager.  Crewmembers turned to gape at her once
again, as if she were indeed a ghost returned.  At one point as she
rounded a corner she had even encountered the same Ensign who had
burst into tears at the sight of her on the other ship.  Fortunately
though, this time he had merely stared after her, his mouth open and a
confused expression on his face.

A faint trickle of happiness began to seep through her.  She was home.
She had done it.  And best of all, she had a second...or was it a
third?...chance.  She could mend her mistakes, put things right...and
maybe even find what she had lost.  A smile began to creep across her
face.

She banished it hastily as she entered the Bridge. she paused,
surreptitiously enjoying the effect as, first one, then all of the
bridge crew saw her.  All activity came crashing to a halt and, for an
instant, they stood or sat in a frozen tableau before her.  Janeway
smothered a grin.  She was home.

"Captain."  Tuvok's eyebrows were reaching for the sky, the closest to
surprised consternation she had ever heard from him in his voice.

"I'm back," Janeway said, rather unnecessarily into the silence.

"What happened?  When we could find no trace of you, we assumed..."

Janeway cut him off.  "It's...a long story.  And I'll tell you all
about it...but first...I want you to turn the ship around."

The silence, if anything, grew deeper.  Once more she had to restrain
the impulse to laugh at their startled looks.  Harry, in particular,
looked like a fish.  Janeway paused, then finally allowed herself the
smile that had been pulling at her lips.  "We're going back,
gentlemen.  To Calasha'an.  We're going back for Chakotay."  It took
everything she had not to let her voice ring out on the last word.

All around her answering smiles began to slowly appear.  There was one
more instant of silence and then Tom was reaching for the controls, an
answering grin on his face.  "Yes, ma'am," he said happily, setting
the course into the computer.  And Janeway had to fight down the
exultation that surged up within her.  She was home.  And she had a
second chance.

---
PART SIX -- RETURNS
---

It was raining again.  Janeway pushed futilely at her dripping hair
and cursed as she stepped in yet another puddle.  Did it never stop
raining on this stupid planet? Whatever could have possessed Chakotay
to want to stay here?  A sigh went through her.  She was obviously
about to find out.  Ahead, the faint form of a cabin, wreathed in
tendrils of mist and barely visible through the constant drizzle,
appeared.  She checked her tricorder again.  One human occupant.
Alone.

Chakotay.

A pang went through Janeway as she gazed at the cabin.  It was small
but well made and looked rather like what she had imagined he would
have built for her, if they had stayed on New Earth.  At the memory, a
shaft of longing, so intense it left her gasping, went through her.
She wanted that cabin, she realized, and all that it represented.  She
wanted the man who had built it, his presence, his company...and his
love.

She wanted Chakotay.

Janeway shifted her weight, shaking one wet foot slightly.  It didn't
help.  She had reached total saturation point fifteen minutes ago and
couldn't get any wetter.  She could have saved herself this soaking,
she thought ruefully, if she had transported down a little closer to
the cabin, but she had wanted to give herself more time before she
actually came face to face with Chakotay...and said what she needed to
say.

She stared pensively at the cabin, not moving, once more running
through the dozen or so convincing, logical arguments she had come up
with to persuade Chakotay to return to Voyager with her.  But he
wouldn't be persuaded by logic, she knew.  She was going to have to
bare her soul to him.  And even that might not be enough.  A flicker
of dread went through her.  What if she couldn't do it?  What if the
words stuck in her throat and...

No.  No more fears, no more putting this off.  "Do what you came to
do, Kathryn," she told herself firmly, forcing herself forward.
Slowly she walked through the rain toward the cabin.

Her pulse was racing by the time she reached the dwelling, and it
wasn't from the exercise.  She hesitated, trying to calm her hammering
heart, then, her mouth dry and her hands shaking, she knocked on the
door.

It was probably only a few seconds but it felt like a lifetime before
the door slowly began to swing inward.  At that moment, Janeway
briefly considered bolting back into the forest...and then it was too
late.  Chakotay stood framed in the doorway.  Her breath caught in her
throat.

He was wearing a loose shirt, dark trousers and an expression of
incredulity on his face.  His hair had grown, she noticed with part of
her mind, and a wave of pure sexual desire coursed through her,
leaving her shivering in its wake.

"Kathryn?"  he whispered blankly.

Fleetingly her mind returned to another universe, to another Chakotay
who had looked at her like that, once upon a time...was it really only
a few weeks ago?  And, as she had done then, she nodded wordlessly.

This Chakotay didn't seize her and kiss her though, and disappointment
flared once, deep within her, and then was gone.  This Chakotay was
holding himself too still, as if he feared he might be dreaming...or
hallucinating...

"I'm really here," she said softly, restraining the impulse to reach
out and touch his arm.

Chakotay blinked once, as if coming out of a trance, his eyes running
slowly over her face.  Still he said nothing.

The dread inside Janeway increased.  This was going to be harder than
she thought.  She licked suddenly dry lips. "Can...can I come in?"

He started, as if remembering himself, and silently took a pace back,
holding the door for her.  Janeway moved tentatively past him,
catching her breath as her shoulder brushed against his.  Was it her
imagination, or did he flinch?  And if so...why?  Janeway swallowed
nervously.

Warmth hit her as she entered the cabin and she shivered, once more
conscious of her soaked uniform and sodden hair.  Behind her, Chakotay
closed the door and she turned to face him.  The look of shock on his
face was gone, replaced by an expressionless mask that told her
nothing of what he was feeling.  Was he happy to see her?  Angry?
Annoyed?  Indifferent?  She shivered again, but not from the cold.

He noticed.  "You're wet," he said, rather unnecessarily.

"Yes," Janeway breathed, unable to take her eyes off him, feasting on
his presence.

And then he was moving briskly past her, pulling extra clothes from a
drawer and handing them to her.  "Here," he said, not quite meeting
her eyes, "You should dry yourself off before you catch pneumonia.
You can change in there."  He nodded toward room to his left.
"We'll...we'll talk afterwards."

"Thank you," she managed to say, staring at him for a moment more
before carefully skirting around him and heading in the direction
indicated.  She could feel his eyes on her, watching as she moved
across the room. Janeway bit her lip.  This wasn't going at all as she
had planned.  He had given her no indication that he was pleased to
see her, had done nothing except let her in and give her dry clothes.
"And that's probably only because he doesn't want me dripping on the
carpets," she thought sourly as she closed the door to the small
anteroom behind her.


By the time Janeway had managed to peel off her soaked uniform off and
change into the garments he had given her, a task made doubly
difficult by the slight shaking of her hands, she was a great deal
warmer...but no happier.  What was she supposed to say when she went
back out?  What if he didn't want to listen to her?  He could have
built a life here, might not want to hear her declaration.  Maybe she
should just go...

No.  That would be cowardice.  And she owed him the truth.  No matter
what he felt, or didn't feel for her, she owed him...and
herself...that much.  Granted, it was late in coming...she should have
told him months, possibly years ago...but it was better than never
telling him at all.  And at least she would know that she had tried,
that she hadn't given him up without a fight...

Speaking of which...there had been no sign of Aliyda or anyone else
living in this cabin with him, Janeway realized suddenly, as she ran
her fingers through her damp and tangled hair, trying to put it in
some sort of order. That was reassuring.  Actually, deep down, she
hadn't really believed she *would* find the alien here.  All of her
instincts were telling her that Chakotay hadn't left her to be with
Aliyda.  No, there had to be another reason. And she was going to find
out what it was.

Janeway sighed and turned to give one last look at her appearance in
the mirror.  She grimaced.  Her hair was tangled and her efforts with
her fingers obviously hadn't done much good.  There were dark shadows
under her eyes and the clothes he had lent her were too big.  Still,
her appearance was the least of her concerns right now... Tucking her
hair behind her ears, she took a deep breath, straightened her
shoulders, and reached for the door.


Chakotay was crouching before the fire, poking at it with a stick when
she emerged.  A shower of sparks fell while she watched him, her gaze
locked on the play of muscles across his back and shoulders.

As if sensing the intensity of her gaze, Chakotay stood slowly and
turned around, meeting her eyes.  For an instant emotion flared in his
own, something she almost recognized but couldn't quite put a name to,
and then it was gone, hidden behind the mask that dropped immediately
over his features.  Janeway took another unsteady breath.

"Are you warmer now?" Chakotay asked.

She couldn't read what was in his voice any more than she could see
through his expressionless features.  No, this wasn't going to be
easy.

"Yes," she replied.  "Thank you."  An uncomfortable silence fell
between them.

Finally, Chakotay shifted slightly and asked unceremoniously:  "Why
did you come back?"  There was a tentative note in his voice now.

A tremor went through her. This was it.  She raised her chin a little
and replied slowly.  "I had to see you."  Suddenly Janeway found the
power of his gaze unnerving and she looked away.  "Do you mind if we
sit down?" she asked.  "This could take a while."

Chakotay paused then waved a hand at a nearby chair, taking a seat
himself.

Janeway sat down and shot him a sidelong look. "I...look,
Chakotay...there's something I need to know but I have to tell you
certain things first, and...and I'd appreciate it if you don't say
anything until I finish. Please?"  She dared another glance at him.
He nodded slowly, all his attention locked on her.  "Thank you," she
said, licking dry lips.

Where to start?  In the weeks it had taken to return to Calasha'an,
she had rehearsed this meeting so many times she had practically
memorized what she would say, but now all the carefully planned
speeches flew out of her mind and, for a moment, there was only
blankness.  For an instant she sat blankly, her brain and limbs
frozen, then she slowly climbed to her feet, moving to pace across the
room, not meeting his gaze.  With the movement came thought.

"All right."  Janeway took a deep breath.  "I came back because I
needed to know why...why you left."  There were no tremors in her
voice now, she was pleased to note. Chakotay made a small movement, as
if he would answer, and she continued hastily before you could speak.
"But before you answer that...I need you to listen to me."  She paused
and glanced at him.

Chakotay frowned slightly, then nodded slowly.  "All right, Kathryn,"
he said.  "I'm listening."

---
PART SEVEN -- REUNIONS
---

He had called her Kathryn.  That was promising.  It meant something.
Janeway wasn't sure *what* it meant, but it definitely meant
something.  She drew a deep, calming breath and began.

"It started when you left.  Actually it probably started a long time
before that, but I refused to acknowledge it, so it really..."  She
was rambling. Already.  Ruthlessly she forced herself back on track.

"After you left Voyager, I realized that I shouldn't have let you go,
at least not...not without telling you...that I loved you."

There.  She had said it.  It felt like she had just scaled a mountain
and she had to pause to regain her breath as her heart hammered
painfully inside her chest...but she had said it.  She sensed, rather
than saw, the quick aborted movement he made, but continued hastily.

"You promised not to say anything," she reminded him, daring another
glance at him.  Chakotay's blank, expressionless mask was gone.  Now
he just looked shell-shocked.  Good.  Maybe she could get through this
if she kept him off-balanced enough to remain silent while she said
what she needed to say.  Janeway looked away and resumed her pacing.

"I realized then that I had probably been in love with you for a long
time but just didn't have to nerve to admit it, not even to myself.
I'm...I'm not very proud of that and I...don't really have any
excuses.  I think I was probably afraid of a lot of things...the
crew's reaction, Starfleet's, Mark's for a while, and...and yours."
She paused to lick her lips which had gone dry, then sailed gallantly
on.

"There were so many other things to consider...the promise I had made
to get the crew home...worries at first about how the Maquis would
blend with the Starfleet crew, and...and other things."  She gave
herself an inward shake. "Anyway, these are all just excuses.  In the
end, I believe I've loved you for a very long time but didn't have the
... courage, I suppose...to act on it...until you left. And not even
then."

"I probably wouldn't even be here now, telling you all this, if
something hadn't happened to me.  I'd be on Voyager, travelling
farther and farther away from you, terrorizing the crew, and
convincing myself that I was doing fine."

"But I wasn't doing fine.  I didn't...I don't know how to go on
without you."  Another slight movement from Chakotay.  "Oh, I don't
mean that I'm going to throw myself out an airlock or anything..."
She swallowed once then continued.

"I just couldn't go on without having told you how I feel.  At least
this way I'll *know*.  I'll know that I didn't throw something away
that I should have fought to keep.  I know I've made mistakes...we
both have...But I need to know if it's too late.  I need to know
if..."  Her nerve failed her and she closed her eyes briefly.

"Kathryn..." It came out as a throttled moan.

She opened her eyes...to see him moving towards her rapidly.  Janeway
froze.  She couldn't move, couldn't even think...and then his arms
were around her, pulling her close and he was kissing her.

It wasn't a gentle kiss.  Janeway had somehow always imagined (when
she had allowed herself such fantasies) that it would be gentle...like
spring rain.  This wasn't rain, it was a typhoon.  His arms tightened
around her, pulling her body close to his, his tongue forcing her
mouth apart and plunging into its depths.  Janeway gasped then found
herself kissing him back, frantically, passionately, fire growing
within her.

For an instant, just an instant, Chakotay pulled back and she stared
dazedly at him.  Faint tears gleamed in his own eyes but there was the
beginning of a smile hovering around his lips.  "I was a fool.  We
both were."  And then he was kissing her again, pulling her even
closer than before, the hard planes of his body melding with her own.
Janeway reached up, both arms coiling around his neck, her breasts
crushing against his chest.  Her mind was shutting down in stages as
he kissed her, his hands roaming freely over her body and his tongue
plummeting deeply into her mouth.  As his hands moved to the neck of
her tunic, to wrench it apart, all thought fled.  She was here, with
him.  The man she loved.  And nothing else mattered.


Janeway lay gasping, thought and sensation slowly returning to her.
She was naked, she realized distantly, pieces of clothing tangled
around her and a heavy weight on her body.  Dazedly she opened her
eyes...and met two stunned brown ones.  Oh yes.  Chakotay.  Lying on
top of her.  Also naked.  Memory returned.

"Wow."  Was that really her voice?  It sounded weak and
exhausted...and thoroughly sated.  She was lying on something hard,
she realized -- the cabin floor -- and above her, Chakotay was wet and
trembling, the muscles beneath her hands soaked with sweat.  She was
quivering too, she realized, like a leaf in the aftermath of a storm.
He was still inside her and, even as she stared up into his eyes, she
could feel him begin to harden again.  He moved slightly,
purposefully, and she gasped, clutching at his shoulders, her legs
tightening around him.

"Chakotay..." It was either a plea or a prayer.

"I love you, Kathryn," he said shakily.  And then he was moving again
in earnest and there was no more need forwords.


"Are you all right?"

"What?"

"Are you all right?"

Janeway paused, taking stock.  "I think I'm lying on a shoe."  Dull
exhaustion coloured her voice.

"We could move."  Chakotay sounded just as tired, and she turned her
head to look at him.  He was lying on his side beside her on the
floor, one hand flat across her stomach.  She reached an unsteady hand
out to touch his forehead, tracing the patterns of his tattoo.

"Are *you* all right?" she asked.

He gave her a familiar grin and her heart lurched within her.  "I'm
freezing and I'm going to have some strange bruises...but there's
nowhere else I'd rather be right now."

Janeway found herself smiling back, exultation rising within her.  She
leaned closer.  "Well that was unexpected."

He cocked an eyebrow at her.  "Was it?"

"No, not really."  Slowly, sensually she pressed her lips to his,
flicking her tongue out to touch them briefly.

He groaned.  "Are you trying to kill me?"

"There are worse ways to die."  And then she rolled over, off the shoe
and on top of him...and proceeded to prove it.        

Somehow, over the course of the last few hours they had finally made
their way to the bed, warding off the chill of the room after the fire
had died, with several thick blankets.  Janeway lay unmoving in
Chakotay's arms, her legs tangled with his and her head on his chest.
Slowly he raised his hand and ran his fingers through her hair, gently
separating the tangles.  A comfortable silence hovered between them.
Then, finally:

"Chakotay?"

"Yes?"

"I forgot to ask my question."

"Go on then."

"Why *did* you leave?"

His hand stilled and she raised her head to look up at him.  He was
staring at the ceiling, an expression of regret on his face.  "It
wasn't because of Aliyda, if that's what you're thinking," he said
slowly.

"I know that."

He frowned and gave her a quizzical look.

Janeway smiled slightly.  "Oh, I might have believed it for a while --
but at some point I realized that you were using Aliyda and the
colonists as an excuse.  Now I want to know your real reason for
leaving."

Chakotay sighed and, if anything, looked even more unhappy.  "You said
you had made mistakes, Kathryn.  Well, so did I.  Only I think mine
were a lot worse than yours."

"What do you mean?"  She levered herself up on one elbow so she could
look into his face.

"I mean that I should never have left Voyager...you. It was a mistake.
I...I've never thought of myself as a quitter before, but that's what
I did.  I left when I should have stayed and fought for what I wanted.
I took the easy way out...and it was a mistake."

"So why did you?"

He sighed, his chest rising and falling beneath her hand.  "There were
many reasons.  I was tired, I suppose.  Tired and angry.  Tired of the
stress and tensions, tired of the endless crises, tired of waiting..."

"Waiting for me to come to my senses?"  Regret coloured her voice.

"That too."  He smiled slightly and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips,
then continued.  "But mostly it seemed like we were drifting apart.
You were so determined to get the crew home at all costs, so driven.
It was like I didn't really know you anymore...had never known you.
And it suddenly seemed as if we were too different, that whatever my
hopes and dreams, they weren't your hopes and dreams."  A pause.  "Do
you remember the argument we had before crossing Borg space?"

Janeway looked down, a brief expression of pain flitting over her
face.  "Yes."

"Do you still think you were right?"

She hesitated, then replied truthfully.  "I don't know anymore.  I
thought I was, at the time.  And things worked out in the end...but
now...I just don't know."  Tentatively she looked back up, suddenly
reluctant to meet his eyes. There was warmth in them and the faint
knot of tension within her receded.

"You wouldn't have admitted that before," he said, his arm tightening
around her.  "You couldn't admit that you might be wrong, that there
were paths other than the ones you wanted to take...and I'm not just
referring to the course we were charting through space.  All I ever
wanted was for you to admit...to other possibilities.  With the ship,
the crew, our journey...and us.  And I thought that was something you
could never do.  So I left.  I'm sorry, Kathryn.  I should never have
left you."

There was a long silence while Janeway mulled this over.  She could
feel the tension within him now, the muscles bunching and cording
beneath her hands.  Finally she looked back at him and asked
carefully:  "Was I really so difficult?"

He looked at her warily.  "Let's just say that...flexibility was not
one of your better skills."

Janeway smiled widely.  "Then you'll just have to come back with me
and keep me *flexible*, won't you Commander?"  She moved one leg up
and over him, her knee brushing a part of his anatomy that made him
groan.  She grinned at his reaction.  Then the smile faded as a
thought struck her. "You are coming back with me, aren't you?"  Worry
etched her words.

"If I can still walk.  I feel like I've been dragged through a warp
plasma conduit."

"Good."  She raked her fingernails lightly over his chest.

"Good that I'm coming back, or good that I feel like I've been dragged
through a...?"

"Both."  She silenced him with a kiss, which deepened as his arms went
around her.  There was a long silence then Chakotay reluctantly broke
away.  He gazed up at her, still holding her close.

"All right, Kathryn," he said.  "I've answered your question.  Now you
answer one of mine."

"All right."

He brushed his fingers across her lips.  "You said that you wouldn't
be here now if something hadn't happened to you," he said.  "What was
it?"

Janeway stilled and looked away, a shaft of sadness going through her.
She would probably always feel this sorrow, she realized, for the man
she had met once and left behind, in another place...another reality.
He would be alone now, not knowing the joy he had given her the
courage to find.  She owed him so much and it was a debt she could
never repay...

"Kathryn?"

She jumped a little and blinked a few times rapidly. "Sorry.  I...it's
difficult."  She pulled away, out of his arms, and sat up, the blanket
wrapped around her.  For a long moment she stared blankly at the cold
ashes in the fireplace.

Chakotay reached out a hand and ran his palm down her back.  "Tell
me," he said softly, persuasively.  Janeway glanced over her shoulder
at him.

"All right.  I...I met you."

"Excuse me?"

She looked away.  "Another you.  In an alternate universe.  There was
a transporter accident and I found myself on another Voyager.  With
another Chakotay.  He...he told me things about himself...you...and
me, things I had never known, things I had only guessed at.  He had
loved his version of Kathryn Janeway and had lost her.  And, because
of him I realised what I had given up when I left you behind.  It was
too late for him to find his happiness. It wasn't too late for me.
And so I came back."

His hand had stilled on her back.  Janeway sat unmoving.

"You could have stayed."

"Yes.  I could have.  But I didn't.  He wasn't you." She turned then,
her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Chakotay..."

He reached for her, pulling her back down to him. "Shh, Kathryn.
Don't cry."

She twisted, coming to rest so she was laying on his chest.  "I wasn't
going to cry," she said tremulously.  "I was going to give you an
order."

He froze beneath her, surprise rippling through him. "What?"

Janeway bent her head and kissed him once, passionately.  "I'm
ordering you never to leave me again, Chakotay," she said, coming up
for air.  "My First Officer is supposed to stop me from making stupid
decisions, not compound them.  Is that understood, Commander?"  She
stared down at him, her hands on his shoulders and her weight pinning
him down.  She could feel his arousal pressing against her and she
twitched her hips slightly, leaning even closer.  "Understood?" she
repeated, a smile beginning to curl at the edges of her lips.

"Yes, ma'am," he managed to say faintly, a glazed look coming into his
eyes.

"Good," she whispered, moving even nearer until herlips were mere
inches from his, her breasts brushing against his chest.  "And now I
have a request."

"Yes?"

"Kiss me."


Later...much later...Janeway stood at the window of the cabin, a
blanket around her, staring out at the falling rain.  A footstep
sounded behind her.

"Kathryn?"

She didn't turn around.  "I was thinking about...him."

"The other me?"

She nodded.  "Do you...do you think he'll find happiness?  Some day?"

Chakotay's arms went around her and she leaned back against his chest.
He hesitated.  "I...don't know."

"I hope so."  Her voice was wistful.  For a moment, there was silence
then Janeway pulled herself gently free.  She reached up to touch his
face.

"Come on Chakotay," she said softly.  "Voyager will be contacting us
soon.  It's time to go."

He hesitated, his gaze wandering once, briefly, around the cabin
before returning to meet her eyes.  Slowly, deliberately, he reached
for her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers.  When he spoke,
there was no hesitation in his voice.

"Yes.  Let's go home."  And then, very gently, he kissed her again.

---

The End