Janeway and Chakotay: The Early Years: Realization by monkee (wiecek@earthlink.net) --- Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek Voyager and all its characters. Author's Notes: This is a stand-alone story in my 'Janeway and Chakotay: The Early Years' series. This story takes place long after 'Skipping Stones.' I hope to, at some point, go back and fill in some of the time in between, and deal more with Seska, but I just HAD to write this one after seeing 'Deadlock' again recently. --- Chakotay burst through the doors of the shuttle bay before they had even opened all the way, then ran down the corridor. He knew there was no need to hurry - Tuvok had already briefed him from the bridge. The missile had been destroyed, and Torres was recovering in sickbay. Janeway was with her. Still, he drummed his fingers impatiently against his leg as he waited for the turbolift. Adrenaline. He could still feel the cold knot of apprehension that he'd had ever since this whole thing began. He stopped in his tracks when he entered sickbay, taking the tableau in with one glance. B'Elanna was lying on a biobed as the Doctor ran a dermal regenerator over her hands. The skin on her face was still pink - he could see that she'd somehow ended up with some bad burns. Nothing the Doctor couldn't handle, but it probably hurt. Janeway was hovering nearby, concerned, but smiling down at her chief engineer. The sight of her was what had brought him up short when he entered the room. It had suddenly struck him that he had needed to see her, alive and in one piece, as badly as he needed to see B'Elanna. He let out a breath that he felt like he'd been holding ever since he'd grabbed her arm on the bridge - once he'd understood what she was proposing to do. "I'm not leaving you alone," he'd told her, but she would brook no argument from him. He hadn't realized until this moment how desperate he'd felt as he'd carried out his duty and orchestrated the evacuation. His rapid entrance into the room, and his equally sudden halt had drawn the attention of the others. They were looking at him, puzzled. "Commander?" the Captain asked. "Checking up on me?" Torres asked, with a lightness that he recognized as being forced. He smiled. "Something like that," he replied, finally moving away from the door, which closed behind him. "How is she?" he asked the Doctor. "Lucky," the Doctor replied. "She had first and second degree burns on her hands and face. Nothing I couldn't handle. It's a good thing I was here," he added with a strange edge in his voice. Chakotay winced. He knew he'd forgotten something in the rush to get everyone to the escape pods. "Doctor. I forgot about you," he said, sheepishly. "Or perhaps you just didn't think my program was worth saving," the Doctor said, in his best put-upon tone. Behind the Doctor, the Captain shot him a sympathetic look, and a bemused shrug. "Not at all," Chakotay said, soothingly. "Everything just happened too quickly. I promise you, though, that I'll develop a procedure for downloading your program in the event of future evacuation." "I would appreciate that," the Doctor said. He put the dermal regenerator down and scanned B'Elanna's hands. "Almost as good as new," he told her, "but I'd like to keep you here for observation." B'Elanna opened her mouth to protest, and he added, quickly, "Just for an hour." "That sounds like a good idea," Chakotay said, narrowing his eyes at B'Elanna to discourage any further argument. She relented, and put her head back down on the pillow, resigned. The Captain put her hand gently on B'Elanna's shoulder. "I have to be getting back to the bridge," she said. "You take care of yourself, Lieutenant." "Thanks, Captain," B'Elanna replied. Janeway nodded to him briefly as she passed - giving him tacit permission to stay as long as he needed to. He marveled, as he had often before, at her understanding, and at how much information she could convey with just a glance. After she was gone, he turned his full attention to B'Elanna. She let out a big sigh, and smiled at him. "What happened over there?" he asked her. He listened as she described the situation inside Dreadnought; the way the Caretaker had impacted its programming, the old Cardassian file, the way she ultimately outsmarted it. He watched her closely, trying to gauge how this incident had affected her. He could see relief in her eyes, as well as guilt. This was confirmed as she finished the story, closed her eyes, and said, tightly, "All of this was my fault, Chakotay. I'm so sorry." "It's all right, B'Elanna," he said. "You nearly lost your life setting things right. It's obvious that the Captain is not going to hold this against you." "I know," she said, quietly. "But what about you?" "Me?" he asked, surprised. "I never told you..." she said, her voice cracking a little. "I never told you how sorry I was...that I let you down, all those years ago." He realized then that this had been troubling her, deeply, ever since, despite everything else they'd been through together. It surprised him, and touched him that his opinion meant so much to her. "Let it go, B'Elanna," he said, smiling and squeezing her shoulder. "Since that day, I've been nothing but proud to serve with you." She gave him a teary, sentimental grin. "Thanks, Chakotay," she said. "Now get out of here before you make me cry." Smiling, he straightened up to go. "All right," he said. "Oh, and B'Elanna," he added, "Light duty for the next twenty-four hours." She started to protest, and he held up a hand to stop her. "Twenty-four hours," he repeated. "Unless the Doctor says it should be more." She scowled darkly at him, but he knew she didn't mean it. He smiled, and left the room. --- The rest of the day was hectic - getting the crew back on board and settled in. It wasn't until late that evening that he had a chance to speak to the Captain again. He stopped by her quarters on the way back to his own. He'd already hit the chime when it occurred to him that it was late, that he probably should have commed her instead. But what he wanted to say to her needed to be said in person. The door swished open, though, and she was standing there, still in uniform and holding a PADD. He noticed two things right away. She was in sock feet and a couple of inches shorter than usual, and her hair was down. The hair, particularly, distracted him enough so that he momentarily forgot to speak. His eyes lingered on it involuntarily. It was really a beautiful color - a rich red-brown. It was more difficult to see when she had it up. She seemed not to notice that he was staring at her, or at least she pretended not to notice. She covered the brief awkwardness by smiling and standing to one side. "Hello, Commander," she said. "Would you like to come in?" He walked in, surreptitiously glancing around the room. He'd only been there a handful of times, and never for very long. The illumination was at a slightly reduced level, and she had some light jazz music playing softly. There was a half-eaten sandwich and a cup of coffee on her coffee table, along with more PADDs. The room was sparsely but tastefully decorated with what looked to be mostly antiques. He didn't see any photographs, and wondered, suddenly, why he was looking for any. "Can I get you something?" she asked, gesturing toward the couch. "Coffee? Tea?" "No, thank you," he replied, shaking his head. He wouldn't sit down - he clearly had interrupted her dinner. "I came to apologize," he said, getting right to the point of his visit. She blinked in surprise. "Apologize?" she asked. "Why?" "I questioned you on the bridge when I shouldn't have," he said. "When I said I wouldn't leave you behind," he added, at her confused expression. "I was out of line. I'm sorry." "Oh, that!" she said. She looked down at the PADD she was holding, fingering it idly. Then she looked back up at him, her mouth quirked up in a half-smile that he'd come to find very appealing. "It's all right. You didn't let it go too far," she said. She folded her arms across her chest. "As Captain," she continued, "I'm always prepared to make that call if I have to, but that doesn't mean that part of me doesn't appreciate a little...argument. It's kind of nice to know I'd be missed, at least." "Oh, you would be," he said, immediately. "By all of us." Then, without giving it much thought, he took the greater risk and made it more personal. "I would miss you," he added. She smiled broadly, reached up and rested her hand on his shoulder. "Thank you, Chakotay," she said, sounding pleasantly surprised. She looked up at him with sparkling eyes, and he suddenly felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. There was a spark of attraction between them so powerful that he became acutely aware of her touch, their close proximity, and the fact that they were alone in her quarters. What was even more startling, however, was that he could tell, for certain, that she felt it too. He could see it in the flicker of confusion in her eyes. Her smile faded, and she pulled her hand back a little sooner than she might have normally, a bit more deliberately. He took a step back, forcing himself to betray no emotion outwardly. "I'd better let you get back to your dinner," he said, lightly. He hoped he didn't sound as awkward to her as he did to himself. If he did, she didn't let on. Her professional façade had fallen back into place. She smiled, though, as she walked him to the door. "Goodnight, Commander," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow, on the bridge." He chastised himself as he walked back to his quarters. He realized now why he'd been brought up short by the sight of her in sickbay earlier in the day - at the sheer relief of finding her safe. He was attracted to her! Strongly! How long had he felt this way? He thought back through flirtations on the bridge, friendly banter, glances of his that had gone on just a fraction too long. It had probably been months, maybe longer. Maybe since the very beginning. Did she know? Well, she sure as hell did now. 'Damn,' he whispered, to himself. Well, he couldn't act on it - he knew this. He didn't even know how she felt, and even if part of her, deep down, felt the same way, he knew she wouldn't allow anything to happen. He found himself wondering what she was doing right now. Was she leaning against the door, trying to figure out what had just happened? Was she thinking of him in a whole new light? He swore again, softly, as he reached his door, then keyed in his code and stalked into his quarters, determined to put it out of his mind. ---