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The door swishes open and when he enters, she’s at the replicator. Her feet are bare and she’s wearing a long blue linen skirt and fitted white sleeveless top and he curses mentally looking down at his own uniform. He had meant to stop by his quarters after checking in with engineering when Seven commed him, requesting his presence in astrometrics. His encounter with her had not only made him late for dinner with the Captain, but had completely hijacked his thought process and he’d come directly here.
“You okay, Chakotay?” Her voice startles him out of his thoughts.
“Yes. Sorry.” She’d done something to her hair that softened the look of it, and how was it she still could disarm him like this? “Sorry about the uniform. Seven called me to astrometrics and—” he trails off.
“And?” she prompts, a crooked smile beginning to spread across her face and mischief lighting her eyes. “What has our resident former Borg done now to put that look of complete befuddlement on your face?”
“She asked me on a date.”
Her smile blows wide and bright across her face now.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He tells her.
“Seven?”
“Yes.”
“Asked you on a date?”
“Yes.”
“As a romantic partner?” She asks, disbelief edging into her voice.
“Is it so incredible someone would ask me on a date, Kathryn?” laughter in his voice.
“Well, of course not but Seven? Of Nine? Former tertiary adjunct of Uni-“
“Unimatrix Zero-One. Yes. That Seven.”
The replicator alerts them that their food is ready, and she turns away, skirt swishing around her legs, and he once again notices her bare feet and how small she seems without the heels and armor of her uniform.
“Vegetable biryani.” She narrates. “I hope you don’t mind the repeat meal, but I wasn’t in the mood for replicator adventures tonight and—”
“It’s the one thing you cook that doesn’t turn into an adventure.” He finishes her sentence.
She grins at him as she turns back toward the table with the two plates, and they settle in their seats.
“Tell me more about this date you’ve supposedly been asked on.”
“Supposedly?”
“Yes.” And she has the audacity to wink at him. “Tell me exactly what happened.” She commands while filling their glasses.
“I had just finished checking in on engineering and was headed to my quarters, where I intended to change out of my uniform and she commed asking me to come to astrometrics.”
“Did she ask or did she summon?” She asks, amused.
He sips at his wine. “Asked. Said please and everything.” He dimples back, “Now that you mention it, it’s been quite a while since we’ve been summoned by her.”
“It has.” Kathryn agrees.
“So, I get there and she starts summarizing the report she’d sent prior to the end of our duty shift, so I pointed this out, asking why she was giving a verbal report of what she already reported, and she says to me, ‘I apologize, Commander. I felt I needed an excuse to ask you here.’”
“She said that?”
“She did”
“And how did you respond?”
At this he tugs at his ear.
“Did you do that?” Kathryn asks, her amusement turning wicked.
“Probably.” He affirms, matter-of-fact. “So, I asked her what she really needed, and then she told me that she’s recently been researching romantic relationships and had identified me as an ideal mate and would I join her for dinner.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“What did you say?”
“That I was flattered but already had dinner plans. And she said, ‘Perhaps another time.’ And, then, I fled.”
“Oh Chakotay.” She laughs. “What are you going to do?”
“Be more prepared next time, that’s for sure. You had no idea of her interest? Or her ‘research’?” He asks.
Kathryn shakes her head and sips at her wine. “Not a clue. She’s largely been relying on the Doctor for social etiquette.”
“Researching romance seems like a little more than etiquette, Kathryn.”
“That’s true.” She agrees, “Honestly, she’s been less interested in spending time with me. She’s on the holodeck quite a bit, still.”
“Are you concerned?”
“A little, maybe. I’ll try asking her about it again. Though if she’s researching romance, maybe I should use my command codes to break through a few of the privacy protocols down there, but that’s probably a subject more suited to the ready room than dinner.” She waves off, “What will you do when she renews the invitation?”
“Like I said, be more prepared.” He dimples gently at her, “I promise I’ll let her down gently.”
“I have no doubt.” And they both focus on their meals, the silence comfortable.
“She’s not wrong.” Kathryn says softly after a few minutes.
“Excuse me?”
“About you being an ideal candidate.” She continues.
“Are you flirting with me?” He asks. She laughs.
“Not out of the question, but not at the moment. I just mean that she’s more discerning than I think I gave her credit for. You’re kind. Steady. You listen. You challenge people without making them feel small. And despite everything we’ve been through, you still manage to see the best in them. Even Seven. Maybe especially her, given how things started, there.”
He sets his fork down. The air between them feels suddenly thinner.
“I’m not interested in Seven,” he says, voice low and certain. “Not like that. Not even a little.”
“It would be understandable if you were.”
“Why is that?”
“You’re not blind, Chakotay.”
“She’s young enough to be my daughter. And emotionally, she’s a whole hell of a lot younger than that. I’m not interested in being a part of her research into romance. I’ll happily be her friend or mentor, but I have absolutely zero interest in anything more.”
“Never say never, Commander. As it stands now, we may be out here another thirty years.”
“Kathryn.” He states. Soft, but firm and there’s a storm in her eyes when they meet his. “I don’t want, Seven. I can tell you with full confidence, I absolutely never will.”
“I’m just saying—it’s a long time.”
“My heart wants who it wants.”
They hold each other’s gazes for a long moment before they both return their attention to their dinners and their wine—the silence now charged with something wholly different from their earlier comfort. As they finish their meals they both rise to begin clearing their plates to the replicator to be recycled in practiced movements around each other. As Kathryn continues to clear the table, Chakotay kicks of his boots and lays his uniform jacket over his chair, then refills both of their glasses and moves toward the couch under the view port. He’s sipping at his glass when she returns and picks up her own, settling beside him.
“I don’t want you to wait for me.” She begins. “You deserve more than what I can give you.”
“That’s not really up to you. I’m content with our friendship, Kathryn. You need to know that. It’s enough.”
“Is it?”
“Like I said, my heart wants who it wants. And, if this is what you can give, then yes, it’s enough.”
“You once told me that you couldn’t sacrifice a present for a future that may never happen.”
“I don’t think I am. Isn’t this enough?”
“I won’t ask you to wait.”
“You evaded the question, and why not?”
“Because I care for you too much, Chakotay. You deserve more than the occasional intimate conversation and burnt dinner.”
“This is my choice, Kathryn. You’re not twisting my arm.”
“We’ve talked about this. We agreed that we were both free to—”
“Then let’s change the agreement.”
“Chakotay—”
“I don’t want to be free, Kathryn. I don’t want Seven of Nine or anyone else asking me on dates when I’d rather just be here in whatever capacity I can be. So, I’ll ask again—isn’t that enough?”
“We can’t—”
“Kathryn, I’m not talking about what we can’t do. I’m talking about what we can—what we already are. You’re the dearest and best friend I have ever known, and you drive me absolutely crazy half the time, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Would you?”
Kathryn’s breath catches, and she looks away toward the viewport where the stars streak by in their endless warp blur. Her fingers tighten around the stem of her wineglass.
“Would I have it any other way?” She repeats his words, tasting them. “God, Chakotay. You know I wouldn’t. That’s the problem.”
He stays quiet, giving her the space she needs, the way he always does. The couch feels smaller suddenly, the scant inches between them humming with everything they’ve never quite said.
Kathryn turns back to him, her eyes searching his face—those familiar lines and the warmth that’s been her anchor through every crisis and quiet night like this one. “You’re asking me to admit that this—” she gestures between them, “is enough. That I can keep taking pieces of you without ever giving you the whole life you deserve.”
“That suggests what we already have is lacking. It’s already whole, Kathryn. Just as it is,” he says, voice low and steady. “I’m only asking you to stop pretending there’s nothing here. Stop pretending that every time we sit here like this, it doesn’t mean something—everything. That I don’t go to bed thinking about your bare feet, and bare arms, and the way your hair looks, or how your eyes shine when you laugh and how you let yourself relax when it’s just us.”
Her cheeks flush, and she glances down at her toes curling against the carpet, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at her lips.
“Kathryn.”
The way he says her name makes her look up again. His hand rests on the cushion between them, palm up in quiet invitation.
She hesitates only a moment before sliding her hand into his. His fingers close around hers, warm and sure, thumb brushing gently over her knuckles.
“As long as we’re out here, this has to be enough. But, it scares me how much I want more. How much I want you. And how I’m terrified that if we cross that line, I won’t be able to lead this crew the way they need me to.”
He squeezes her hand. “You’ve been leading them through hell while carrying this weight. Maybe letting yourself have this small thing with me doesn’t make you weaker. Maybe it just makes you human. And considering Seven exploring her humanity is what brought us to this conversation— there may be a lesson in that.”
Kathryn’s lips twitch. “Using my own protégé against me now? That’s a low blow, Commander.”
“Desperate times.” He dimples, and that boyish smile that still undoes her.
The silence stretches again. Kathryn sets her glass on the low table and shifts closer until her shoulder brushes his. She rests her head lightly against him, and after a beat, his arm comes around her, pulling her in.
They stay like that for a long while, the stars streaming past, dinner plates and wine glasses forgotten. Eventually Kathryn tilts her head up to look at him, their faces close enough that she can feel his breath.
“Chakotay?”
“Hmm?”
“If Seven does ask again…”
“I told you. I’ll handle it. Gently. As a friend or mentor should.”
“You’re sure?” She asks. And he knows it’s not just Seven she wants to know he’s sure about.
“Absolutely.”
“Ok,” she says simply, and kisses his cheek, letting herself linger for just a second or two longer than friendship might allow.
“Ok.” He affirms, pulling his arm tight around her. “Ok.”