The BLTS Archive-Not Simple Comfort
by monkee (wiecek@earthlink.net)

---

The obligatory Unimatrix Zero story from a hopeless J/C er.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek Voyager and all of its
characters.

---
(Kathryn)
---

Janeway had to laugh when her door chimed. She'd been out of sickbay
-- what -- twenty minutes? She authorized admittance and watched as
Chakotay strode in, his eyes unerringly locating her at once. She was
standing by her viewport, warming her hands on her coffee cup as she
savored the aroma.

He walked over and stood beside her, scowling at the coffee. "I
thought," he said, pointedly, "that the Doctor told you to lay off the
caffeine, Kathryn."

"What he said," she said, in mock defense, "was that I could only have
one cup a day for a while."

He raised his eyebrows. "And you're using it up now? It's only 0700."

She laughed. "Well," she said, "I'm celebrating."

"What are you celebrating?" he asked.

Only the genuine concern in his dark eyes stopped her from laughing
hysterically. What was she celebrating? Being alive with her
individuality intact, perhaps? Finally getting the hell out of
sickbay? The success of the mission? The fact that she still had all
of her limbs, not to mention her head? Still, she didn't want to be
sarcastic when she knew he was just trying to connect with her. She
picked something.

"I'm celebrating...hair," she stated, firmly.

It was his turn to smile. "I'll go along with that," he said, glancing
appreciatively up at her head. "No offense, Kathryn, but bald wasn't
really a good look for you."

She snorted and nodded in agreement. His expression sobered after a
moment. "How are you doing?" he asked.

She drew in a breath and prepared to respond with her usual automatic,
'Fine,' but stopped herself.

"Honestly, Kathryn," he prompted, at her hesitation.

"Honestly?" she said. "I don't know. I think it's too soon for me to
even know how I'm doing. Right now I'm just happy to be back."

He nodded, and seemed pleased with her answer. She knew that it would
be healthier if she didn't minimize the trauma of what she'd been
through. At least not with the one person on the ship that she was
closest to.

"Fair enough. What will you do today?" he asked.

"Eat. Sleep some more. Take a bath," she said, smiling in
anticipation. Then she grew more serious. "And I'm going to have
dinner with Tuvok. I'm a little concerned about him."

"Oh?" he asked. "Why?"

"I think, of the three of us," she said, referring to herself,
B'Elanna and Tuvok, "he's having the most difficult time with all of
this. You read the report. He was more vulnerable than B'Elanna and I
were to the hive mind. And...at one point, he threatened me. It wasn't
something that he could control, but you can imagine how that's
affected him.  He'll probably resist talking to me about it, but at
least it's a start. The more time we spend together, the more likely
it is that our relationship can get back to normal."

He nodded slowly, but looked troubled. Troubled for Tuvok, perhaps,
but also for her. He probably thought she was avoiding her own
response, and she knew he was partially right. Her concern for Tuvok
was genuine, but she acknowledged to herself that she was glad, in a
sense, to have someone else to worry about. She knew she was going to
have to confront her own feelings  about what had happened eventually,
but for now, it was far easier to confront someone else's.

He studied her for a long moment, but apparently decided not to push
her. Yet. Then he extended his hand -- mirroring what she had done on
the bridge just before this whole thing started. She smiled and put
her hand in his.

"I have to get to the bridge now," he said. "Take care of yourself,
Kathryn. And if you need me..."

"I know where to find you," she said. He didn't relinquish her hand
right away, and their eyes locked. Finally, she gave his fingers a
reassuring squeeze and let go, then watched as he left the room.

---
(Chakotay)
---

Chakotay woke in the middle of a restless night. He'd spent hours
tossing and turning, but had finally drifted off into a troubled
sleep. As he lay in bed, staring up at the darkness, he had the
feeling that something was a little bit off in his quarters. Perhaps
he had heard something on the edge of consciousness.

"Computer," he said, softly, "One quarter illumination."

The lights came up just high enough so that he'd be able to make his
way around. He slipped out of bed and pulled on a T-shirt over his
boxer shorts. He moved into his living area.

He didn't see her at first, but eventually, as his eyes adjusted and
he became fully awake, he noticed the still form lying on his couch.
Kathryn. She was sound asleep.

Without thinking, he moved to the couch and knelt beside her. He shook
her arm, gently. "Kathryn," he whispered. He cursed himself as her
eyes fluttered open. Why had he done that? He should just have let her
sleep.

She was somewhat dazed and groggy, and it took a few moments for her
eyes to focus on his face. She said nothing at first as she absorbed
her surroundings. Finally she took a deep breath, and said, "Hi."

He sat down on the floor beside the couch. "Are you all right,
Kathryn?" he asked, concerned and confused. "What are you doing here?
Not that I mind, but..."

She took another deep breath, then sighed. "I was exhausted, but I
couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I...I heard them. The
voices. I couldn't shut them out."

He nodded. He remembered that well from his experience with Riley's
mini-collective. It had to be a lot worse for Kathryn and the others,
though. They'd been connected to the main collective.

"Maybe the Doctor can give you something to help..." he began, but she
shook her head immediately.

"When I was in sickbay, he did every night. But I want...I have to get
past this. I really want to try to do this myself," she said. "I
wanted to talk to you, but when I got here...I just didn't have the
heart to wake you up. So I let myself in. I sat on the couch and I
could hear you breathing. It was peaceful. I must have drifted off."

He smiled. Her words made him remember New Earth. He used to wake up
in the middle of the night there, and all he could hear were the
muffled sounds from the woods outside, and her breathing. Sometimes he
would lie awake just listening, holding on to the moment. He'd found
it nearly as peaceful as a vision quest, so he knew how she felt.

"And I woke you up," he said, ruefully. "I'm sorry."

She smiled and shrugged, then started to get up. "No," she said. "I'm
sorry. I should go. Maybe I'll be able to sleep now, anyway."

He took her hand, stopping her. He thought quickly, remembering what
he and the Doctor had discussed about her recovery. They'd agreed that
she would need calming activities -- good memories, friendships,
connections. He wanted to help her.

And it occurred to him, suddenly, that the mission had been hard on
him, too. The stress had been unrelenting and he'd been unable to get
much sleep, knowing that she was in constant danger. He wanted her
near. He did not want her to walk out of this room right now.

"Do you trust me?" he asked her.

"Of course I do," she said. "Why?"

In response, he scooped her into his arms and stood up.

"What are you doing?" she asked, more surprised than anything else.

"You'll be able to hear me breath much better from in here," he
replied, heading for his sleeping area.

Before she could protest, he continued. "The Doctor told me that
casual physical contact would be good for you." He stressed the word
'casual' so that she wouldn't misconstrue his intentions at all. "I
just want to sleep beside you, Kathryn."

He set her down gently on the bed. He couldn't quite read the
expression on her face, but she was clearly having some serious
doubts. He sat down beside her. "Kathryn," he said, "I think I need to
hear you breathe, too. All right?"

She considered his words in silence, then nodded her agreement. She
had to be exhausted to even consider this, he figured. Even he was
already having second and third thoughts about it. Their relationship
was a delicate balance and it had taken them years to get to where
they were. This was...dangerous. He knew they could control themselves
physically. She was exhausted, and he wasn't about to take any kind of
advantage of her. Emotionally, however, this was a risk. It could draw
out feelings that they'd both worked hard to suppress. Still, he
couldn't deny how comforting  it felt to settle in beside her. Like a
weight had been lifted from his chest and he could finally expand his
lungs fully.

She sighed and turned over on her side, facing away from him. Despite
the unusual situation, her body seemed quite relaxed. He curled up
behind her, and although he tried to minimize their contact, he
couldn't resist reaching over and brushing her hair back away from her
face.

"Goodnight, Kathryn," he said, softly. "Sleep now."

"Goodnight," she replied, groggily. "I think I will."

And within minutes, she did. He breathed deeply a few times, trying to
relax, hoping this would be all right. Needing to touch her, just to
be in contact with her, he rested his hand on her arm. Soon, he
drifted off as well, listening to her steady, quiet breathing.

---
(Kathryn)
---

She awoke several hours later, completely disoriented. Only when she
felt the warm, solid presence against her back did she remember where
she was, and whom she was with.

They'd drawn closer together in their sleep and he now had his arm
wrapped securely around her. She could feel his even, measured
breathing behind her -- it seemed to move right through her, actually,
and she found that she was breathing at the same calm, steady pace.
She couldn't deny how comforting it felt to be with him after all
she'd been through. Chakotay always radiated serenity, and tonight
she'd needed it badly.

She realized that the comfort of sleeping in his arms was not going to
solve all of her problems. It might, in fact, make things more
difficult in the long run, but for once she didn't really care if she
was doing everything absolutely correctly. She was so tired of trying
to do the exact right thing all the time. Maybe listening to Chakotay
breath was no better than taking a sedative, but what the hell. She
was doing the best she could. After all, there wasn't much in the
medical database on how to restore one's humanity after intentional
assimilation.

Sighing, she burrowed further under the covers and into the sanctuary
of her sleeping first officer and best friend. He stirred, though, and
in several moments it became clear that he was decidedly not asleep.
She could feel him becoming aroused, and he shifted back, trying to
put some space between them.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, but she caught his hand before he could pull
away from her.

"It's okay, Chakotay," she said quietly. It was a perfectly natural
physical response, after all, and she knew he would do nothing to take
advantage of her current vulnerability. She had to admit that it was
nice, too. It had  been too many years since anything but a hologram
had responded to her like that. She could feel the faint stirrings of
reaction in her own body, but her physical and emotional exhaustion
was too complete for it to be an issue.

She turned her head slightly toward him. "It's okay," she repeated.
Then, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, she added, "At least,
it's okay with me..."

She felt him draw in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Gradually he
relaxed. The fist that she had grasped slowly unclenched and he pulled
her gently towards him again. He nuzzled the back of her head and
whispered, "Okay, go back to sleep." Before she could even answer him,
she had.

---

She woke up instantly alert the next morning. She remembered
everything. He was creeping past the bed with wet hair, smelling of
soap. Apparently, she'd slept soundly through his computer wake-up
call and his shower.

"Good morning," she said, startling him.

He sat down on the edge of the bed. "I didn't mean to wake you," he
said, apologetically.

"It's all right," she told him, taking his hand. "Chakotay...thank
you. I didn't expect to sleep at all last night, and instead...I
haven't slept that well in years. It was very...soothing."

"For me, too," he said, quietly. For an instant, it looked like he
wanted to bend down and kiss her. It would have seemed like the most
natural thing in the world, too. Instead, though, he shook himself out
of it and simply touched her cheek. "Go back to sleep," he whispered.

She squeezed his hand and nodded, then watched him walk out of the
room. His absence was palpable as soon as the door closed behind him.
It occurred to her that what they had done last night might not have
been such a good idea. She'd found some peace and gotten some sleep,
but now feelings that she shouldn't be having were resurfacing. She'd
enjoyed the intimacy of sleeping beside him too much -- it was going
to be difficult to forget.

She turned to stare up at the ceiling, then pressed the back of her
hand against her forehead. Her fingers clenched into a fist.

---
(Chakotay)
---

He was taken completely by surprise when she appeared at his bedside
the next night. He would have bet his life that she would not be back.

"What's the matter, Kathryn?" he asked, gently. "The voices, again?"

She shook her head no, and sat down on the edge of the bed beside him.
It was dark in his room, and her eyes were in shadow, so he couldn't
read them, but he could tell right away, by the tension and
uncertainty that radiated from her, that she was not seeking simple
comfort. He sat up, slowly. In confirmation, she reached for him. When
her fingertips touched his lips, he closed his eyes. He didn't know
what to do. What he wanted to do and what  he should do were two
different things. When he opened his eyes, her face was close to his,
although her eyes were still deep pools in the semi-darkness. "I need
you, Chakotay," she said quietly.

God. Oh God. He had to send her away. He had to. They had agreed that
they would never do this. They had agreed that this was a bad idea,
and it was. And she wasn't thinking clearly, she couldn't be. She'd
just been through assimilation, and a treacherous, nearly suicidal
mission. She'd faced the most difficult decisions of the journey,
endangering members of her crew and herself for a greater good. They
were all back safely, but the emotional repercussions were beyond
comprehension.

But maybe that was just it. How did one recover from so much trauma?
When he had been briefly connected to a mini-collective, at least he
hadn't been physically damaged. She'd had implants infused into half
of her body's systems, and most of her skin fused with Borg armor.
Even though she'd maintained her individuality, she must have felt
more machine than human. 'I need you, Chakotay,' she'd said. Well,
maybe she did. Maybe she needed to be touched, to feel human again on
the most basic level.

He reached up to cup her face in his hand, then bent down and kissed
her, soft and slow. She needed him, and he had to help her. And he
needed her,  too. He wanted this, and had always wanted this. Since
New Earth, he'd pushed it away, buried it deep, but his feelings for
her hadn't changed, despite all that they'd been through. He hadn't
truly realized it until this moment.

He lowered her to the bed. This may have been her idea, but he was
going to lead. He wanted to heal her. He put his fingers on her lips,
although she didn't seem inclined to argue. Neither of them spoke as
he gently removed her clothing, and the only sounds in the room were
those of rustling sheets and mingled, jagged breathing.

For several minutes, all he did was touch her. He touched her skin --
her arms, her stomach, her breasts, her neck -- and he stroked her
face and her hair. This had certainly gone beyond the 'casual physical
contact' the Doctor had recommended, but the contact itself was what
was important. He touched her everywhere the Borg had touched her --
willing her to feel her humanity return with every stroke. Her touches
-- to his face, his chest - were more tentative, as though she just
wanted to be sure he was warm and real.

His caresses became more aggressive. She gasped when he rubbed her
nipple with his thumb. He moved above her then, brushing his lips
against her eyelids as he trailed a finger up her inner thigh. He
pressed her center with his fingertips as he kissed her. When he
flicked his tongue across her lower lip, he slid a finger inside her.
She arched toward the contact, and whispered his name. He withdrew his
finger, and shifted into position to enter her.

His people believed that when two people were truly joined, their
spirits were connected as well. He tried to concentrate on Kathryn, on
what he was trying to do for her, but when he pushed himself slowly
inside her, he realized that he wasn’t going to be able to hide his
heart from her any more than he could hide it from himself.

She came on his second thrust and began to cry, clutching at his
shoulders. As he felt her contract around him, all of his remaining
restraint was stripped away. He thrust deeply into her at a steady,
deliberate pace, whispering either 'God' or 'Kathryn' each time until
she sobbed and arched against him again. Overwhelmed and broken, he
lost his rhythm and thrashed hard inside her, coming with an
incoherent shout.

He collapsed on top of her and she clutched his head as he buried his
face in her neck, feeling her tears. They both gasped for breath.
"Damn," he hissed, when he could talk. He tried to shift his weight
off of her, but she held him fast. "No," she whispered, so he stayed
where he was. What had they done? That had gone way beyond her need to
feel human again -- for both of them. If he had any doubt about that,
his suspicions were confirmed when she sighed, and whispered "I love
you, Chakotay."

He cried, then, and she stroked his hair. Neither of them spoke again.
Emotionally and physically spent, they both gradually drifted off to
sleep.

---
(Kathryn)
---

He wasn't there when she woke up, several hours later. She could hear
him, though, moving around in the living area of his quarters. She
slipped out of his bed, and pulled on a button-down shirt that she
found draped over a chair.

He was sitting on his couch with his head down, running his fingers
through his hair in an agitated way. He, too, had pulled on some
clothes -- a pair of  shorts. He didn't look up until he felt her sit
on the couch, several feet away. She met his gaze warily, taking a
deep breath and biting her lip. She hadn't felt this uncomfortable
with him since the day the met, and maybe not even then.

He looked back down at the floor. After a moment, he sighed. "I'm
sorry," he said. "I thought I could do this. I thought I could just
help you through this and not get carried away. But I couldn't make
love to you, and not love you."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "No, I'm sorry. It wasn't fair. It
was too much to ask of you. I just needed...I needed..." She wished
she could be more articulate about this, but 'needed' was the only
word she could find. She had needed him -- needed his touch to make
her feel human again. But it was more than that. She had also very
much needed the closeness and intimacy they'd had the night before,
sleeping in each other's arms. And she realized, right then, that she
needed it for more than one night. Or maybe  she didn't need it --
maybe she just wanted it. Or maybe she needed to have what she wanted
for a change.

"I needed you, she continued.  "But I should have known...hell, I've
always known that if we made love, it would be like that."  She looked
over at him and waited for eye contact. "I do love you, Chakotay," she
said, when she had it. "I meant that. I want to love you.  I don't
want to go back now, to the way we were before."

"But we agreed about this, Kathryn," he said, staring at her in
disbelief. "Years ago. We agreed that it would be a mistake for us to
be involved. And as much as I...as much as I want this, I'm still not
sure it's right."

She nodded. "It probably isn't," she agreed. "It's probably a mistake.
It's an agreement that has served us well for years, and to alter it
now is just asking for trouble. I know that. But..."

She stood up, feeling the urge to move. She paced slowly back and
forth in front of the couch, finally stopping in front of him. "But
when I was over there," she said, referring to the Borg cube, "...even
just pretending to be part of the collective..." She shuddered, and he
took her hand. She drew in  a deep breath and continued. "It just made
me want to hold hard onto the things that make me human. And…God,
Chakotay, I haven't felt human in years. Not really. And I'm so tired
of it."

She knelt beside him, still holding his hand. "I'd like to try it, if
you're willing. If we can't do it, I know we'll both be wise enough to
realize it and put a stop to it, for the crew's sake." She put her
hand on his cheek. "What do you think? Will you, Chakotay? Will you
make a reckless, bad decision with me and try this?"

He said nothing for a while, and she waited. She would accept any
decision he made. She was changing the rules, and it really wasn't
fair, but...it just felt right. She hoped he felt the same way.
Finally he snorted and started to smile. "You know I will," he said,
pulling her up to the couch to sit next to him. "You own me, Kathryn
Janeway, and you have from the start. I'm pathetic."

She chuckled. Then, the decision made, she nestled against him --
finally able to revel in close, personal contact with the man she'd
been in love with for years. She sighed deeply at the same time he
did.

"Of course," she pointed out, "this could be trouble when we get back
to the Alpha Quadrant. Our relationship is really none of anyone's
business, but I'm sure I'll be asked whether or not we're involved. It
might have been better if I could have responded with an outraged
'No.'  Now...I'm not sure how well I'll be able to protect you should
Starfleet decide to pursue the 'Maquis' on this ship, even after all
we've been through."

He pulled back slightly and looked down at her, frowning a bit. "You
actually thought you could? Protect us?"

"I'd have done my damnedest. Still will, of course," she replied. Then
she snorted and laughed derisively. "But then," she added, "Starfleet
may be none too pleased with me when all is said and done. Maybe my
'protection' will do you more harm than good."

Chakotay sighed, and pulled her closer. "There's really no point in
worrying about all this yet," he said. "We'll just have to deal with
it as it comes."

"Mmmm," she agreed, studying their clasped hands resting on his thigh.
She rubbed her thumb absently against his. Then her focus shifted to
his thigh. The man had amazing legs. He shifted slightly on the couch
and she saw muscles ripple beneath skin and dark hair. She felt the
unmistakable stirrings of sexual arousal replacing concern and
comfort. She extricated herself from his embrace and sat back on the
couch to gaze speculatively at him. His eyes narrowed, and then he
smiled as she began to creep toward him purposefully.

She straddled the thighs she'd been recently admiring and settled
herself on his lap. She felt the beginnings of an erection through his
shorts, and pressed herself down on it slightly.

"Chakotay?" she asked, her voice low.

He groaned in response.

"Before? When we made love?" she reminded him. He nodded, his hands
moving under her shirt, onto her waist.

She began nuzzling his face and neck, occasionally flicking her tongue
out to taste his skin. She very much enjoyed his responsive shudders
and squirms.  "I was a little...emotional," she said, "a little
overwhelmed." She began to move her hand slowly from his shoulders to
his chest. She let her fingers linger briefly on his nipples before
continuing down to the waistband of his shorts. "But I don't want you
to think," she continued, nipping at his neck, "that I'm always
that...passive."

She lifted herself off of his lap and began, with his assistance, to
work his shorts over his hips.  She began to ease her way down his
body, kissing him in various spots as she went. He gasped when she bit
him near the navel, and pulled her, rather forcefully, back up.

"Passive is not a word I generally associate with you," he said. "And
I don't want YOU to think," he added, directly into her ear, "that I'm
always so...reverent. Or so gentle."

"Oh God," she moaned, lifting up, then lowering herself firmly onto
his erection. Yes, sacred had its place, of course, but so did this.
And she'd waited long enough.

---
(Chakotay)
---

He woke up spooned tightly around his Captain, his back wedged against
the couch. The first thing he did was smile, remembering the joy of
the previous night. His misgivings about their decision had all but
faded away, and, if  he was honest with himself, he knew that this was
what he'd wanted all along.

He knew it wouldn't be easy. Another serious professional
disagreement, and they'd had a few, could derail this relationship in
a hurry. And Kathryn was right about the Alpha Quadrant -- there was
no telling what the repercussions of this would be when they got home.

But he didn't want to think about any of that now. Kathryn was warm in
his arms, and there was something that he needed to tell her.
Something that, with one thing and another, he hadn't said yet.
Something that he wanted to say before they left this room.

He began to stroke her lightly with his fingers -- her arm, her
shoulders, her back. She stirred awake, and made a soft sound that was
something between a sigh and a moan. He continued to touch her gently,
loosing track of time, until she started to respond by pushing subtly
back against him. He kissed her neck, and murmured, "I want you,
Kathryn." She arched her lower back seductively, then gasped when he
entered her in one smooth motion.

He grunted when he felt her taut around him, and rolled her fully onto
her stomach. He'd intended for this to be one of those reverent
encounters, but these things didn't always go as planned. He'd wanted
her for so long that he couldn't help being a little possessive. She
tried to lift her hips up, but he kept her pinned flat against the
couch. Because the couch was narrow, one of his feet was on the floor
and he used it to give himself enough leverage to push into her as far
as he could.

She groaned as he pounded into her, a little faster now, and he
thought her voice might be tinged with pain, as well as pleasure.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked, trying to slow down.

"God, don't stop," was all she managed to gasp.

So he didn't stop, although he did maintain enough presence of mind to
hold himself back until she cried out and he felt her begin to
contract around him. Then he came explosively inside her, shouting her
name. The intense passion that he felt transformed in an instant and
he felt tears well up in his eyes as he thought about her, and the
path that had led them to this point.

"I love you, Kathryn," he finally told her. She knew, of course, had
known for years, but she still trembled when he said it. He withdrew
and moved off to one side while she shifted to face him. She put a
hand on his cheek, then kissed him, slowly and tenderly.

"Chakotay," she whispered.

They put their foreheads together and rested in silence.

"I think we can make this work," she said. "It just feels right to me.
And, God, Chakotay, I barely remember yesterday, let alone last week.
I feel completely human again."

With a jolt, he realized that he hadn't thought once about the Borg
since last night. He knew better than to think that their new
relationship would cure Kathryn of the trauma of assimilation
overnight, but he hoped it would help.

He thought that perhaps she would be all right. The Borg mission had,
after all, ultimately succeeded far beyond their initial expectations.
And all three of them had returned safely. She may well have been just
fine without him, but he was glad that, from this point on, he would
have a place in her life where he could really make a difference --
could give her back the peace she'd given him.

---

The End