The BLTS Archive - A Place in the Universe
by monkee (wiecek@earthlink.net)

---

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek Voyager and its characters, but it
didn't do right by them.

Author's notes: I swore up, down and sideways that I was NOT going to do
this. 'MY Janeway is through with Endgame Chakotay,' I said. 'She can do
better.' Well, yeah. Right. Like I could leave them like that.

I'll never be able to fully reconcile myself with the C/7 in Endgame, but
I've tried, here, to find a way to restore Janeway, and especially Chakotay,
to what they've always been in my heart.

---

The land rover dropped him off at the end of the street, and he walked the
rest of the way to the house. It was a huge, old, wood-frame house,
overlooking the ocean. He knocked, but she wasn't in. He plopped down on an
Adirondack chair on the porch with a sigh, both disappointed and concerned.

He'd been staring down at the beach for about a minute when he suddenly
realized that the distant figure wading in the surf was her. He'd know that
hair anywhere, despite the unfamiliarity of her civilian clothes. He was
surprised to see that she wasn't alone. He smiled.

She'd gotten herself a dog.

She was throwing what appeared to be a piece of driftwood out into the
waves, and the dog was enthusiastically retrieving it each time.

He left his shoes on the porch, rolled up his pants legs, and made his way
across the sand.

---

The pounding surf masked the sound of his approach, so when he touched her
shoulder, she spun around, startled. In that first instant of recognition,
before she was able to neutralize her expression, he saw a hint of
exasperation, or maybe even annoyance in her eyes. She was not entirely
happy to see him.

But it passed, and she greeted him warmly. "Chakotay," she said, smiling,
"How did you...What brings you out here?"

"How did I find you, you mean?" he asked. "You sure as hell didn't make it
easy for me.  North Carolina, Kathryn? I've known you for seven years, and
you never once mentioned North Carolina to me."

"Well, there might be a thing or two you don't know about me, Chakotay," she
said, wryly. "But actually, I've never been here before. I just
wanted...someplace quiet. Isn't it beautiful?"

He looked around, as she did, at the wide, sandy beach, the dunes, and the
sparkling ocean. It was late afternoon, and the shadows were getting long.
The turquoise and pink of the cloudless sky was reflected in the backwash of
the waves. No other houses were visible from where they were standing, and
all he could hear were the mournful cries of the seagulls, and the crashing
waves. It was a peaceful place. Just the kind of place an overburdened
starship Captain, home from a long journey, might come for a little
perspective...and some privacy.

Privacy that he was invading, he reminded himself. He decided that he'd
better get right to the point. "I had to see you," he said, seriously. "I've
been very concerned about you."

"Why?" she asked, genuinely mystified.

"Why?" he repeated, incredulously. "Kathryn, I barely got a chance to speak
to you when we got back, and then you were on Vulcan with Tuvok for a month,
and then, two weeks later, you resign from Starfleet without a word, and
disappear! I had to find out if you were all right!"

She was squinting at him, and shaking her head in confusion. "Chakotay,
I..."

"I know we're home now, and everything has changed, but I still thought you
would at least talk to me about something that major," he continued. He was
on a roll, and didn't notice her protestations. "You've spoken to Seven,
briefly, but you didn't even mention anything like this. Why did you resign?
You should give it some more thought, Kathryn. This is no time to be making
major decisions. You need time to adapt to being home."

He was out of breath, so he had to stop. Kathryn seemed to have been
rendered temporarily speechless by his tirade. The dog, who'd been looking
back and forth between them, took the opportunity to drop her stick and
approach. She sniffed Chakotay's hand briefly, then, satisfied, ran off down
the beach, barking at some seagulls.

Chakotay looked at Kathryn pointedly, waiting for a response.

"I haven't resigned, Chakotay," she informed him.

His mouth dropped open in surprise. Her calm statement took all of the wind
out of his sails, and he suddenly felt like a complete fool, standing there
and delivering his carefully planned speech.

"You didn't resign?" he asked, weakly.

"No," she said. "Who told you that I resigned?"

He thought back. It was difficult to remember. Ever since he found out, he'd
been more concerned with locating her than confirming the information. Who
had told him? It had been at headquarters - he'd been walking across the
grounds, and he'd run into...

He groaned, then slapped his forehead. She smirked.

"It was Chell," he admitted, sheepishly.

She burst out laughing. Despite his embarrassment, it was nice to see her so
amused, even if it was at his own expense.

"God, Chakotay!" she howled. "CHELL?"

He shook his head, chagrined. How could he have believed Chell, of all
people? He tried to remember, then realized that nothing in his ensuing
conversations with Starfleet, Tuvok, or even Kathryn's mother, had
contradicted his initial assumption. None of them had specifically confirmed
it, but there had been a few cryptic comments. 'We hate to lose her,'
Admiral Paris had said. 'Kathryn needs some time,' was her mother's comment.
He narrowed his eyes and looked at her, speculatively.

"You haven't resigned, then, but something's up, right?" he asked.

She forced herself to be serious. "Well, yes," she admitted. "I actually
tried to resign, but Owen talked me out of it. I have been granted an
open-ended leave of absence."

He was still surprised. He'd assumed she'd want to get right back into the
swing of things. But she seemed very much at ease with the decision. She
looked relaxed, healthy.

"So, you're not having a nervous breakdown after all, then?" he asked.

She snorted. "Nope." She stared walking again, slowly, through the surf in
the direction of the house. He fell into step beside her, trying in vain to
keep his pants legs dry.

"When we were in the Delta Quadrant," she continued, "I was sure that I'd
have a terrible time adjusting to being home again. But I've been doing all
right. I think going to Vulcan helped. Tuvok's fal-tor-voh only took a
couple of days, so I spent a lot of my time there just thinking, and talking
to my mother, who had come with me. When Tuvok was fully recovered, he
helped me meditate some. And when I got back to Earth, I knew I needed some
time away from Starfleet."

"What will you do?" he asked.

"I called some old friends, put out some feelers," she confided.  "I want to
go back to my scientific roots. I want something that will challenge me,
something to solve. Science used to give me so much joy. I miss it. I enjoy
command, and wouldn't trade my experience on Voyager for anything. I may go
back to it eventually, but right now, I need a break."

"Have you had any interesting offers yet?" he asked.

"A few," she smiled. "The Atlantis project is looking for an interim
director, and Phase III of the Dyson Sphere project is starting up next
month."

She didn't get a chance to elaborate, because at that moment, the dog
returned, sloshing through the surf towards them. Chakotay could see that it
was a puppy - an Irish Setter way too small for her feet. The puppy stopped
directly in front of them, and braced herself.

"No, TAYA!" Kathryn cried out, too late. The dog shook herself with great
enthusiasm, spraying sand and salt water all over both of them.

A dog's fur can hold a great deal of water, and Chakotay found himself
drenched. He also had sand on his face. He barely noticed.

"What did you call her?" he asked, not trusting his own hearing.

Kathryn winced. "Taya," she said, sheepishly. "Her name is Taya."

"You named your dog after me?" he asked, incredulously.

"Not hardly," she said, defensively. "She's a girl, for one thing..."

"But Taya is the feminine form of..."

"I know that, Chakotay!" she said. "Look, it's really not a big deal. I
always loved your name. I love the way it sounds, and Taya is even prettier.
I hope you aren't offended. It really suits her - just look at her!"

Taya was standing with her head cocked off to one side, regarding him
playfully with dark, soulful eyes.  "I'm honored," he grinned. "Where did
she come from? Is she another runt with spunk?"

"I don't think so," she replied. Taya seemed to know that she was the
subject of their conversation. She barked and jumped up, propping her paws
on Kathryn's leg. Kathryn smiled at her affectionately, and scratched her
ears. "Mark gave her to me. She's Molly's granddaughter - just about six
months old."

Ah, Mark. They'd been conversing so comfortably that he'd forgotten, just
for a few moments, that everything had changed. He fought against the slight
tug of regret and concentrated on the ease of their friendship.

"I heard that Mark was divorced," he said. "Are you seeing him again?"

She stopped walking, and looked at him quizzically, as if she wasn't sure he
was serious. Her eyes widened when she realized that he was.

"Did Chell tell you that, too?" she said, with a wry smile.

"It's not true?" he asked, dumbfounded.

She shook her head no. He realized that indeed he had also gotten this
information from Chell. He didn't know why he hadn't questioned it. Perhaps
because, at the time, it had seemed like such good news.

He shook his head. He felt foolish, but he could see the humor of the
situation. "Not divorced," he reiterated.

"No," she said. "Still happily married, near as I could tell, and they have
a son. I met his wife when I went to pick up Taya." She smiled, remembering.
"I liked her, actually. She was having a heated argument with the replicator
when I got there. My kind of woman." She laughed, nudging him with her
forearm.

He chuckled in response. "Well, I'm sure Mark knows how to cook anyway," he
said. "Anyone who's lived with you for any length of time has to."

She snorted, but continued to smile. They both stood there for a moment in
silence, lost in thought. He was remembering a shelter a lifetime away, and
although the memory was poignant, it didn't hurt him as much as it once had.

She must have been thinking along the same lines. Her smile faded, but
didn't disappear completely. She looked down, then back up at him.

"How is Seven?" she asked, with sincere warmth and interest.

So, she hadn't heard. He was a little surprised that Seven hadn't told her,
but it was arrogant for him to think that he'd come up as a topic of
conversation. He also didn't know when they had last spoken. He braced
himself, not at all sure how his announcement would be received.

"We aren't seeing each other anymore," he said.

She stopped walking, abruptly. Her entire body was suddenly radiating
tension. She stared at him, completely stunned. "What?" she asked. She
looked angry, and a little concerned - probably more for Seven than for him.
"Why...What happened?"

"Nothing," he said. "Everything. I don't know." He struggled to think how to
explain it to her, when he didn't even understand it himself. "We got home.
Everything is different now. On the ship, pursuing a relationship made a
certain amount of sense, but here? No. Seven's whole universe just expanded
exponentially. I told her that she needs to find her place in it."

"YOU broke it off?" she said. "How could you just." She blew out a
frustrated breath and pulled her hand through her hair, trying to get
herself under control. "I'm sorry," she said, after a moment. "I'm just
surprised. I would think that she would need you now more than ever, and
it's just not like you to..." Her voice trailed off. "I'm sorry," she
repeated. "It's none of my business. I'm just worried about her, that's
all."

He hastened to reassure her. Of course she'd be concerned. "She's fine,
Kathryn. And I think she needs friendship more than any kind of romantic
entanglement right now. I talk to her almost every day - I assure you, she's
perfectly all right. She seemed almost relieved, to tell you the truth. She
can see the logic."

"Where is she now?" she asked.

"She's spending the week with her Aunt," he said. "The Doctor and Reg have
both been keeping an eye on her, too. She's supposed to move into an
apartment in San Francisco next week, but I don't know that she'll stay
there long. She's been offered a position at the Daystrom Institute."

"The Daystrom Institute?" she repeated, almost numbly. She had gradually
loosened her stance as he spoke, and was much less agitated. She drew in a
deep breath, then released it, visibly relaxing even more.

"I guess I'm over-reacting," she admitted, apologetically. "I'm feeling a
little guilty. I've only spoken to her, briefly, a few times since we've
been back. I wasn't worrying about her at all, because I thought she was
with you. If I'd known, I could have been around for her more. But it sounds
like she's all right."

He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. "She's fine, really. If you like, I
have her Aunt's comm frequency. You could contact her and see for yourself."

She smiled, relieved, and nodded up toward the house. "I think I'll do
that," she said. "Then I'd like to take you into town for dinner. We've been
talking for twenty minutes, and I haven't heard a thing about YOUR plans."

She called for Taya, who came bounding up beside them. Then she took his
arm, and they made their way through the sand to the old house.

---

They sat outside at the restaurant, even though the evening was cool and
breezy. He wondered if she felt as he did about being cooped up indoors.
After seven years of space travel, his desire to be outside in the elements
bordered on obsessive.

Whatever her reasons, however, he was grateful. The patio of the restaurant
was illuminated by candles and soft lights, and although he couldn't see the
ocean in the darkness, he could feel its presence in the salty air, and he
could hear the rolling waves. Kathryn had just changed into a simple,
sleeveless blue sundress, and pulled a brush through her hair, but she
looked lovely. She looked better, in fact, than she had in years. It wasn't
a physical change, he decided, after surreptitiously studying her face as
she looked at the menu. It was her eyes. He could see through them, again,
inside her, the way he once had, before the guilt and the unending stress
had taken its toll.

The waiter returned with a bottle of wine, and they placed their orders.
After the waiter left them alone, she lifted her glass. "To home," she said.

"Home," he agreed, and they clinked glasses. They sat for a long moment,
just smiling at each other fondly.

"So," she finally said, "what ARE your plans for the future?"

"I honestly don't know yet," he admitted. He didn't add that he was allowing
himself to think, for the first time since they'd gotten home, that his
future plans might depend on her. He didn't want to push, because although
she seemed completely at ease with him, he wasn't exactly sensing any
romantic tension from her. Not the way he used to. It occurred to him that
he'd have to get to know her all over again.

"Starfleet offered me a position at the academy, teaching anthropology," he
continued, "but I don't think I'll accept it. I'm not ready to settle into
the life of an academic just yet. What I'd really like to do is some field
anthropology."

When he voiced the thought, he realized that he'd only just figured it out,
talking to her. She tended to bring that out in him. His visions of who he
was, and what he wanted, were never cleared than when he was with her.

Her response was instantaneous. Her eyes lit up with excitement, and she
automatically reached across the table to touch his hand. "Chakotay!" she
said. "The Dyson sphere! I've been offered the position of director for the
third phase of the project, so I've been reading up on it. They've
discovered that it was abandoned over a hundred thousand years ago, and
there are literally thousands of different areas on the interior surface
that had been inhabited by several different species. And no one knows yet
who they were, or where they went. It's fascinating, and they've only just
scratched the surface."

"So it didn't turn out to be an Iconian colony after all?" he asked,
recalling the popular rumor from before he'd left Starfleet for the Maquis.

"Most of the leading scientists on the project don't think so anymore," she
said. "But there are other theories..."

And so it was that they spent the next hour talking about the project. He
enjoyed seeing her enthusiasm. It had always impressed him that even in the
middle of a crisis; she could feel a sense of wonder and discovery - at an
alien relay station built around a microsingularity, at a species that
communicated via musical tones. He was happy for her - now she would be able
to indulge the explorer in her, without the burden of commanding a ship so
far away from home. Her interest was contagious, too. He was looking forward
to reading up on the project when he got back to his own apartment. It might
just be exactly what he was looking for.

But he began to feel uneasy as the waiter cleared away their dishes. He
didn't want the evening to end, not before they'd gotten a chance to talk
about more personal subjects. So he was pleased when she ordered coffee. He
did as well.

The waiter left them with their mugs. Seizing the moment, he leaned across
the table, speaking quietly, although they were the only people left out on
the patio. "I wanted to talk to you about Seven, and me," he said. "I wanted
to explain."

She smiled slightly, then rested her elbow on the table, and propped her
chin in her hand. "Chakotay," she said, "you don't owe me an explanation.
You hadn't made any kind of commitment to me; in fact, I'd actively
discouraged you. I made that decision years ago, and I thought it was the
right one. I have to admit, though, that it threw me when I found
out...maybe because I didn't hear it from you."

He winced, guiltily. "I should have told you," he acknowledged.

"You should have," she agreed, but without malice. She hesitated briefly,
then continued. "In addition to whatever I might have felt about it
personally, I was also concerned about Seven. I just didn't think she was
ready for that sort of relationship, but I decided it wasn't my place to
judge, and that you must know what you were doing."

"I wish I could say that I did," he said. "But the truth is, it was a
mistake. She expressed an interest, and suddenly it seemed like it might
work." He laughed, softly, in a self-deprecating way. "She's so strong, yet
so vulnerable. My biggest weakness. I wanted to help her find her humanity.
I thought I had a lot to offer her, and she was open to me in a way that..."

He let his voice trail off, unable to complete the sentence. 'In a way that
you weren't,' he wanted to say, but he didn't. She knew, and it was hardly
her fault that she couldn't be everything he'd wanted her to be.

She regarded him in patient silence. If she understood what he hadn't said,
she didn't let on. Or maybe she just didn't think she had anything to feel
guilty about.

"But Seven really is quite young, emotionally," he continued, with a sigh.
"Too young, yet, for a serious relationship. She doesn't even know herself
yet. I should have seen that. I like to think I would have, before too
long."

Kathryn nodded. "That's what I thought. But I found out so late, and then I
didn't want to butt in. And I was afraid you would misinterpret my
objections."

Chakotay snorted, remembering something else. "B'Elanna had no such
reluctance. She kindly informed me that I was an old goat, and that I was
making an ass out of myself."

Kathryn made a strangled sound and closed her eyes, and he watched as she
carefully, deliberately, swallowed the coffee that she'd just sipped. She
kept her eyes closed for a few moments, struggling to keep a straight face.

Finally, she was able to speak. "An old goat AND an ass?" she asked, with a
twinkle in her eye, but a completely straight face. "That seems a little
harsh."

"Did they teach you that in command school?" he asked, amused.

"Teach me what?"

"How not to laugh at your first officer when he's having a mid-life crisis?"

"No," she said, finally allowing herself to smile. "There is so much they
never covered. I just have to make it up as I go."

They both chuckled, then sat in comfortable silence for a while, sipping
their coffee. He saw something out of the corner of his eye, and discovered
that it was the moon. It was just rising and reflecting off the ocean. It
wasn't quite full, and he wondered if it was waxing or waning. It was so
comforting to be back on a planet again, with natural cycles and rhythms. A
planet where everything had a time, and a place, and a reason for being. He
wanted so desperately to belong, again, too. He looked over at the woman
sitting across from him, and took a deep breath.

"There's more, though," he said, quietly. "About Seven." She looked at him,
warily.

"I honestly do believe that she needs to find her own way, right now,
unencumbered by any romantic attachments," he said. "But there was also
you."

Kathryn set her coffee cup down, and for the first time since he'd first
spotted her on the beach, looked uncomfortable.

"You and I," he continued, determined to say what he needed to say, "we had
such a complicated relationship. I've loved you, Kathryn, for so long, but I
couldn't be with you. I always understood that. I tried to move on, live my
life, but you were always there - on the ship, in the chair next to me,
across the room. And part of me, until recently, kept hoping that when we
got home - if we got home - maybe things could be different. Well, now we're
home, and it may never happen, but it wasn't fair to Seven to have that
hanging over us. She deserves better. If I'm still hanging onto that hope, I
have no business being with anyone else."

She was looking down at the table now, and rubbing her forehead in an
agitated way. He reached over and took the hand, clasping her fingers until
she looked up at him with eyes filled with tears and, perhaps, dread. She
knew what he was going to say next.

"And I am still holding onto that hope," he confessed. "Is it too late? Is
there any chance?"

"Oh, Chakotay," she said. He thought he detected sympathy in her tone, and
his heart sank. She sighed, agitated, and looked out towards the rising
moon. "I'll be honest with you. I always hoped we would have a future
together, too. But you moved on, and I had to accept that." She frowned,
slightly, and scowled affectionately at him. "Well, at least I THOUGHT I had
accepted it."

He felt his first flicker of hope, and pursued it. "Everything has changed
now, Kathryn, and I think what we have is special. Can you forgive me, and
give this a try?"

There was warmth in her smile as she covered their joined hands with her
free hand, but she still looked reluctant. "It's not a matter of forgiving
you, Chakotay. You did nothing wrong. I just wonder...we've been through so
much together. Maybe too much. We've developed this wonderful friendship.
Maybe it's too late to change it. Maybe we shouldn't even try."

"Do you really believe that?" he asked, intently, forcing eye contact, and
caressing her hand gently with his thumb.

She rolled her eyes, and shook her head, but he thought he might be getting
through to her a little. "I don't know," she admitted. "Just a few hours
ago, I didn't even know this was an option. I'm a little overwhelmed. Can we
take this slowly? After all, we've just had this huge upheaval in our lives.
This isn't the time to be rushing into anything. We ALL need to find our
place in the universe now, not just Seven."

"Fair enough," he agreed. He tried not to look too triumphant, but secretly
he was very optimistic. "So," he asked, "what happens now?"

"Now?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Now, I'm going to walk you back to
the transport station. Then I'm going to finish my vacation. Alone. I really
need some time to myself."

She looked down for a few moments, contemplatively, then back up, directly
into his eyes. "I'll call you when I get back next week," she said, quietly.
He held her gaze, and felt his breath catch at the intensity and promise in
her eyes. He lifted her hand, and kissed it lingeringly, and the corner of
her mouth turned up into a very appealing and familiar half smile.

---

They decided to go look at the moon before they headed over to the transport
station. They both removed their shoes, and walked across the now cool sand
to just above where the waves were breaking. As they walked, he reached for
her hand and caught a couple of her fingers. Peripherally, he saw her smile.

The moon, still low in the sky, was reflecting a glittering path of light
across the ocean. As happy as he was, he had the feeling that if he just
took a few steps, he'd be able to walk right over it. The breeze was strong
down here, and it was blowing Kathryn's hair off her face. She looked
exuberant, and beautiful, and when he tugged at her hand, and leaned in to
her, she didn't hesitate to meet him half way.

Her lips were soft, pliable and warm, but when he dropped his shoes and
pulled her closer, her body felt firm, electric under his hands. This was
nothing like the awkward excitement he'd felt with Seven. This was soul
searing, and his body was already responding to the rightness of this, all
the way down to the bone. Already, they were moving together, very subtly,
in the ancient, sacred rhythm of lovemaking. He moved one hand to the hollow
of her throat, and stroked her hair with the other hand, still kissing her,
still unable to believe that after all these years, she was finally in his
arms. She must have dropped her shoes as well, because he could feel both of
her arms wrapped securely around the back of his neck.

Finally they pulled apart, but stayed close, breathing together, their
foreheads touching. They were going to be together, and soon - he had no
doubt of that now. And he knew that she knew it, too, but she confirmed it
by taking a deep, quavering breath, and whispering, "Damn."

He smiled, then pulled her close. She rested her head against his shoulder,
and they both sighed simultaneously. They stood that way, side by side,
looking out over the sea, and he knew that they had both found their place
in the universe.

---

The End