The BLTS Archive- And Straight On 'Til Morning
by monkee (wiecek@earthlink.net)

---

Disclaimers: Paramount owns Star Trek Voyager and all of it's
characters.

For gus -- thanks for the stars!

---

Extricating himself as gracefully as possible from the banter and
cheerful mayhem in the messhall, Chakotay edged towards the door.
Neelix had spotted him, so he quickly ducked out into the corridor.

He was concerned about Kathryn, as both a first officer and a friend.
She'd put in yet another token appearance at a ship's function.  This
time, she'd stayed for less than five minutes.

She'd been different in the months since their encounter with the
Equinox. Detached.  Lately, she was keeping herself even more isolated
than before. She hadn't barricaded herself in her quarters -- it was
nothing as severe as what had happened in the void.  In fact, she was
doing everything...exactly right.  She'd been calm and steady in her
daily interactions with the crew, and was making an effort to eat in
the messhall occasionally, and attend ship's functions.  But when she
was among them, her interactions were superficial.  And she'd canceled
dinner plans with him several times.  It was as though she didn't want
any in-depth contact with anyone.

Tonight, it had been the monthly celebration of birthdays.  She'd put
in an appearance, and he'd been relieved to see her.  She was even out
of uniform. But then she'd just disappeared.  The crew was getting
used to it, but he couldn't afford to.

"Where is Captain Janeway?" he queried the computer.

"Captain Janeway is in shuttle bay two."

Well, that was odd - it was quite late at night.  He headed for the
turbolift.

---

He entered the shuttlebay, then stopped abruptly.  The shuttlebay
doors were open.  The forcefield was in place, but he felt a sudden
chill of forboding. She'd been acting so peculiarly lately, what was
she up to now?  He quickly ordered the doors closed and scanned the
darkened bay.  There was no sign of her, so he hurried to the shuttle.

It was even darker inside the shuttle than it had been in the bay, but
his eyes found her immediately.  She was leaning back in the pilot
seat with her foot propped up on the console in front of her.  She was
holding a glass of champagne from the party -- balancing it on her
knee.  She was staring out at the now-closed shuttlebay doors, her
profile illuminated by the shuttle's emergency lights.

"You closed my window," she observed, without turning around.

He let out a breath that he'd probably been holding since he entered
the bay.  She clearly had no plans to do anything impulsive, so he
moved up to the front of the shuttle and slid into the seat beside
her, ordering the doors open again.  Together they looked out at the
stars.

After a moment, he broke the silence, and said, "I was worried about
you, Kathryn."

She laughed, softly.  "Crazy old Captain Janeway," she murmured.  She
glanced over at him, "You don't need to worry about me, Chakotay. I'm
fine."

"What are you doing in here?" he asked, concerned despite her
reassurance.

For a few moments she said nothing, and he was beginning to think she
hadn't really heard the question.  But then she said, "I seem to end
up here almost every night lately.  I don't know why I come here."

After another moment, she amended that.  "Well, it probably doesn't
take a trained counselor to figure it out, I suppose."

She looked toward him again, her eyes narrow and appraising, as if she
were having some kind of internal debate on whether or not to confide
in him. Apparently satisfied with his even, non-judgmental expression,
she continued.

"I have this fantasy," she said.  "I think about one night just
dropping the forcefield and flying out of here."  She used her hand,
arcing it through the air to demonstrate.

"Kathryn..."

"Oh, I know you'd have a tractor beam on me within thirty seconds,"
she said, waving off his alarmed tone.  "But I like the idea of
just...leaving. Breaking away from this...ship, this life, for just a
moment or two."

Sighing, she turned back to the viewport.  "Not exactly an appropriate
thing for a good Captain to want, is it."

He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly and silently.  Cautiously.
"What is this about, Kathryn?" he asked, gently.

She chuckled, then leaned her head back in her chair.  "I wish I
knew," she said.  "I've been feeling this way ever since
the...Equinox."  She waved her hand around to indicate all of the
implications surrounding the word. He nodded in acknowledgement.

"I know that I was angry then," she continued, her eyes unfocused,
remembering.   "And I know that some of the things I did were...wrong.
I know I'm sorry about that.  I know all of these things, but I don't
FEEL them.  I just feel numb. I'm just..." Her voice trailed off, and
he saw her swallow. "I'm just tired of all of this," she said quietly.

She looked over at him, snorted wryly, then rolled her eyes, returning
her gaze to the vacuum of space.  "That's another fine thing for a
Captain to say."

"Cut it out, Kathryn," he said impatiently.  "Believe it or not,
you're only human.  You're allowed to screw up sometimes.  That's why
I'm here. And you're allowed to suffer from some burnout every now and
then.  The only question is -- what are you going to do about it?"  He
steeled himself, but it was his job to push her about this.  "Have you
spoken to the Doctor about the way you've been feeling?"

She sighed. "Well, yes.  I've been meaning to talk to you about that,
actually..."

"You spoke to the Doctor?" he interrupted. He couldn't hide his utter
surprise.

"Yes," she continued, oblivious to his shock.  "He wants me to take
two weeks off. In fact, he's being rather insistent about it."

His mind was reeling from the disclosure.  She had actually spoken to
the Doctor. And it hadn't even been necessary for him to confront and
badger her about it.  He didn't know whether to be grateful, or
worried as hell.  He decided to play it casually.

"I think that's a good idea," he said.  "But can I assume that you're
resisting the idea?"

"No," she said, tilting her head thoughtfully. "Well," she hedged,
"Maybe a little. He wants me to be off the ship the whole time.  He
wants you to drop me off somewhere the next time we're on a supply run
and come back for me two weeks later.  He wants me to be completely
out of contact with the ship."

He absorbed this information.  He could understand why it made her
nervous. The Doctor was proposing that she sever her link with the
ship and crew completely.  It seemed a bit extreme, yet...

"It might not be such a bad idea, Kathryn," he said.  "You said
yourself you were sitting here fantasizing about getting away --
here's your chance."

"I know, I know," she sighed again, lolling her head back in the seat.
"But for two weeks? And alone? I spend so much time alone as it is..."

"You're never alone," he said, with sudden clarity.

She turned to him with a sentimental smile.  "Oh, I know, Chakotay..."

"No, that's not what I mean," he interrupted.  She raised her eyebrows
questioningly.  "Oh, you know that I'm always here for you, at least I
hope you do, by now.  But what I meant was that even when you're alone
on this ship, you're not really alone.  The crew, the journey, even
the ship itself -- they're always with you. You can't get away from
them. This way, you'll have no choice. I think it might be a good
idea, really."

Nodding, she stared out at the stars.  "I can't believe I'm saying
this, but I think so, too. I think I'm even looking forward to it."
Then she turned and narrowed her eyes at him -- a mock death glare.
"But you'd better take good care of my ship!" she warned.

He grinned.  "Not a scratch," he promised.  He stood up and extended a
hand to her.  Smiling, she took it and let him pull her to her feet.
She reached for her champagne glass, preparing to leave with him.

He took her other hand, and stopped her.

She looked at him questioningly, then warily, as he pulled her towards
him. Initially, she stiffened in the embrace, but gradually he felt
her relax into it, and exhale deeply. It was something that she
needed, whether she knew it or not - to have some basic human contact.
She led this crew in isolation -- no one called her by her name,
except for him, and no one ever touched her. He intended to change
that from now on, even if it was just a friendly hug every now and
then.

He stepped back before any natural physical responses to her close
proximity had a chance to kick in.  She bit her lip and looked at him,
her eyes moist. Then she shrugged and gave him one of her lop-sided
smiles.  He turned the ops chair around and gestured for her to sit
down.

"What are you doing?" she asked, as he sat in the pilot's seat and
began the pre-ignition sequence.

"I thought we'd take a little spin," he replied.

"Oh...no, Chakotay! That's silly!" she exclaimed.  "The shuttle crew
will have to go through all the post-flight diagnostics for nothing!"

"Kathryn," he said, patiently, "You're the Captain of this ship. You
should abuse your authority every now and then. Keep everyone on their
toes." Before she could argue further, he hailed the bridge.

"Chakotay to the bridge."

"Carey here, Commander."

"The Captain and I are taking one of the shuttles out for a spin," he
said. "Just so you know."

"Um...Sir? Understood, Sir," Carey stammered.

Someone in the background said, "Oh no, he's not DRIVING, is he?"

Kathryn had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from guffawing
out loud, and he could hear muffled laughter from the bridge crew as
well.

"Who said that?" he demanded, grinning.

"Um...I...don't know, Sir," Carey replied, diplomatically.

"I don't know, Sir..." Chakotay muttered. He closed the comm-line. He
knew anyway -- Ensign Jenkins' voice was very distinctive.  He smiled
to himself -- at this rate, she would never get off of night shift.

He decompressed the bay and lowered the forcefield.  He hit the
thrusters and they took off at a rate of speed slightly faster than
regulation. Even he felt a rush of exhilaration as the shuttle sailed
past the doors and soared over Voyager's nacelles. He glanced over at
Kathryn and smiled at the sparkle in her eyes and the almost
intoxicated expression on her face.

Noticing his gaze, she turned toward him and gave him a satisfied,
sentimental smile.  She picked up her champagne glass and settled back
in her seat.

"Have I told you lately," she asked him, "that you're a wonderful
first officer?"

"You haven't, actually," he said, adjusting the controls to alter
course, "but then, I already know that I'm a wonderful first
officer..."

She smacked him affectionately on the arm.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "Don't hit me while I'm driving! No wonder I have
such a miserable reputation with these shuttles!"

She laughed, and he asked, "So, which way, Captain?"

She looked at the blanket of stars ahead, sipped her champagne, and
pointed vaguely off towards starboard.

"That-a-way," she grinned.

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied, smiling.

---

The End