Stolen

She awoke abruptly. Startled into consciousness by the thought

that the warm body curled around hers should not be there. In

the next moment she remembered, remembered everything in it's

dazzling, glorious, sensual detail and then the anxiety of her

waking was gone, washed away by the flood of pleasure her

recollections had prompted. Unbidden the thought arose in her

mind,

'I'm not sorry,' and then, 'we shouldn't have waited so

long.'

She lay still, enjoying the feel of his body against hers, the

gentle rise and fall of his chest, pressed against her back.

One of his arms had slipped around her waist, as though he was

trying to guard against the prospect of her moving away from

him while they slept. There was something, intoxicating about

the illicitness of this waking. Something that lay not in the

fact that this was their first awakening, but in the knowledge

that no one knew he was here, that no one would ever find out

that he had been in this place. He had stolen away from where

he was supposed to be, simply to spend this night with her and

would return in a few hours before he was missed. They had

taken a risk, gambled and every precious second together had

been worth it.

When Voyager had first arrived at this Planet and the

inhabitants had offered the crew shore leave in return for a

diplomatic favour, she had intended to deal with the matter

personally. She had planned to take Harry with her so he could

have his first taste of diplomacy and Tuvok, of course, which

would allow the rest of the crew some time on the Planet.

Chakotay however, had had other ideas - pointing out how long

it had been since she'd had any shore leave and telling her

that he could handle a trade agreement between two Worlds

which had somehow become bogged down in details. Actually he

had asked her if she didn't think he was capable of the task,

or if she just didn't trust him.

It was a low blow, turning the issue into one about trust and

competency, when really they both knew that he was trying to

persuade her not to sacrifice the holiday she so needed. When

she'd wavered, weighing the pros and cons he had added, 'I

understand one of the locations they are offering shore leave

at is a beach resort. Sun, sand, sea - sounds perfect.' And

she had refused to allow him to manipulate her for a moment

longer, observing playfully,

'If it's so perfect I'm surprised you're willing to pass up

the chance of staying there yourself.'

Perhaps I'll sneak away from the negotiations for a night,

surprise you.' His eyes had become dark; passion and implied

promise flaring between them for a moment, leaving her

relieved that this discussion was taking place in the privacy

of her Ready Room. She knew what he meant, what he was

suggesting and she was tempted.

'Perhaps you should.' Afterwards she had tried to dismiss the

conversation, convince herself that they had both been joking,

neither of them were serious. But the thought lingered,

'what if?'

For the first two days of her stay here she had struggled to

relax, half expecting him to put in an appearance, worrying

about what she would do and say if he did. As this prospect

receded she became more at ease. Her days had settled into a

comfortable routine: sleeping late, taking long walks on the

beach, lying in the sun, reading. Her evenings were spent

sitting on the sand, watching the sunset. She was grateful for

whatever generous impulse had prompted those of the crew also

staying here to leave her in peace. It was impossible that she

could ever not be the Captain, but she did, desperately need a

break from the responsibility that went with the role. In

fact, so resolutely had everyone stayed out of her way that

she was beginning to wonder if someone had issued instructions

that she was not to be disturbed. There was only one candidate

really and his knowing so instinctively what she needed was at

once disturbing and intriguing.

It was late on the fifth night of her leave. in two days she

would return to Voyager, refreshed and recharged. Glad she had

been persuaded to turn the negotiations over to her First

Officer. She had been sitting on the beach reading, but as it

has grown dark she had abandoned John Heath Stubbs to gaze at

the stars. She would go back to him when she went indoors, her

appreciation for poetry was a recent acquisition.

Absorbed in the view of space and all its majesty, a little

awed by the knowledge that her life lay amongst the stars, she

had not heard the footsteps until it was too late. Until a

voice laced with humour had said, 'if you can see Voyager from

here, Paris is in too low an orbit.' She had looked up at

Chakotay, seen how at peace he looked and wondered how, as far

as she was concerned he was a discordant element. Was it

simply because he was determined to pull down the protective

barriers she had surrounded herself with?

'What are you doing here?' She had asked the question for something to say, knowing what his answer would be before he opened his mouth,

'I was invited, wasn't I?' He had settled himself beside her on the sand, close but not quite touching.

'Why are you here?' Almost the same question, but with much more space for an imaginative answer.

'To see you.' He wasn't co-operating with her attempt to make

this meeting seem insignificant, a pleasant coincidence, rather than something planned. She persisted,

'How are the negotiations?'

'Almost complete. I have to be back tomorrow afternoon.' If she'd been feeling like taking a risk she might have asked him where he planned to spend the night, but she felt quite exposed enough simply by sitting here, alone with him, shrouded in darkness in a place where no one knew them, or their history.

Glancing across at him she had found that he was looking at

the stars with the same rapt fascination that she had been a moment earlier. His head was thrown back, the line of his body fluid and relaxed - as though he had no doubts at all about being here with her. It was that which broke her mood, defeated her trepidation. She was off duty, on holiday, no one would ever know, except for them of course. it wasn't a perfect arrangement, far from it, but it was as close as they were going to get. She said,

'I wasn't expecting to see you.'

'I convinced myself that you hadn't meant what you'd said, weren't serious.'

'So, what changed your mind?'

'I knew that if I didn't find out for sure I'd spend a lot of time thinking about it, wondering - and I can always sleep on the beach.'

'I don't think that's going to be necessary.'

Their eyes had met, in perfect understanding. She waited for him to ask her if she was sure, but instead he had said, 'you aren't sorry that I am here?'

'No.'

She had moved towards him, needing to take the initiative, show him that she wanted this to happen as much as he did. The reaction was immediate, the first gentle, tentative touch of lips quickly giving way to heat, urgency and a tight embrace.

He had eased her back, so they were lying stretched out on the sand, kissing over and over as their hands and fingers began the first explorations of each others bodies. They had been wrapped together for a long time before he had whispered into her ear,

'Shouldn't we go back to where you're staying?'

'I suppose we should.'

'Before we start something we can't stop.' She'd smiled at the

thought of them making love on the beach, which would hardly be discrete and then said,

'Don't you think we've done that already?' He'd kissed her once again and then got to his feet, pulling her up in his wake and picking up her discarded data padd as she reached for her shoes.

They had walked back to the small beach house where she was staying, arms around each other, bodies pressed together. As she'd paused to undo the door he'd begun to brush soft kisses on to the back of her neck, turning an easy task into something much more complicated. Eventually she had been able to concentrate sufficiently to unfasten the unfamiliar mechanism and open the door. They had stumbled into the room together, she had turned her head, seeking his lips, mouth

surrendering to the warm plundering of his tongue. Her arms

were wrapped around his neck, his hands at the waist, holding

her against him, so she would be in no doubt of his response.

Feeling giddy she had pulled her lips away for a moment, struggling for breath. Looking at him she detected the first, fleeting sign of uncertainty, the first hint of what might be doubt. Her fingers had drifted to his tattoo, wandered over it's arches and swirls. 'What's wrong?'

'There isn't enough time,' he'd said sombrely, 'I know it's

impossible, but I can't help wanting more than tonight.' Her euphoric mood had faded but did not completely leave her.

'I know it's not ideal, I wish we could do something other than snatch a night together, but at the moment it's this or nothing.' Her hand fell to his mouth, fingers lingering over his lips, 'I understand if you've changed your mind.' His smile had been rapid, seductive.

'Kathryn, the very last thing I'm in danger of doing is

changing my mind.'

Now, morning was a cool light slipping through the bedroom blinds, the whisper of the ocean a faint lullaby flooding her senses. Now, too late, she realised that he had been right. The intense, evocative images of their bodies twisting together, rocking back and forwards, building to a mutual release; the memory of their carresses and whispered endearments just made her sure that she too, wanted more than this stolen night. Perhaps her companion was telepathic,

particularly in tune with her and picking up on the memories she had summoned. Perhaps it was a coincidence, but as she replayed the images of their feverish love making she felt the beginnings of an erection stirring against her back. Lying still she was acutely aware of every movement, every sound.

His breathing changed as he drifted towards wakefulness and

then his hands slid slowly over her abdomen, cupping her breasts, stroking the nipples which hardened at his touch. Had she been sleeping it would have been a wonderful way to wake up, but since she was already awake she moved against him, rocking her hips slowly.

'Good morning,' he said quietly, continuing his rhythmic stroking of her breasts, pressing himself into the curve of her body. One of his legs slid between hers, parting them, his hand creeping through soft curls, fingers penetrating her deftly, picking up the tempo as she moaned and rocked in response to his touch.

She was waiting, struggling to hold back the tremours building

within her, needing to feel him stretching her wide, pushing deep inside her. She rolled over onto her stomach, raising herself up onto her knees as he grasped her hips and entered her with painstaking slowness. He almost withdrew, surging forwards again, establishing a steady rhythm as she struggled to find enough leverage to push back at him. 'Oh yes, yes' She was gasping and groaning, amazed at the slow steady pace he was maintaining which was sending her further and further into oblivion. Just when she couldn't stand it anymore, just when her clitoris was desperate for contact, any contact, he lifted

one of her hands with his own and together the fingers pressed

down, rubbing the slickness hard as her every nerve ending exploded in ecstasy.

At the apex of her climax she felt his control, at last, slip.

The smooth, steady movements become uneven, jerky. She tightened, deliberately around him, hearing him moan her name. He was close, so close and then he was more than close, he was there, deep inside her spasming in release, forcing her forward against his hand so that their fingers were firm against her and she was trembling and shaking even as they collapsed together in a wet heap.

When she woke up again he was propped up on one elbow, watching her. Intrigued she noticed how different he looked in the morning, fresh from sleep - more crumpled somehow. Had he been thinking something similar about her? Even on New Earth they had never seen each other just after the moment of waking. It felt intensely personal, this waking and it hurt to know that there would never be another.

'I have to go soon.'

'I know,' They were both waiting for one of them to say

something that would change everything. She opened her mouth to speak - but he got there first.

'I don't want to leave you,'

'I don't want you to go.' He smiled, wryly and observed

'Well, this is a mess, isn't it? Whatever made us think that one night together would solve all our problems?'

'Were we thinking that?' She queried, 'weren't we just glad of

the excuse, to find out what it would be like?'

'And now that we have?'

'I don't know.'

'Neither do I.'

They lay together for a moment longer, neither of them willing

to make the first move towards separation. Finally she said,

'If you don't go now someone will notice that you're missing.

We can talk about this when we get back to the ship.'

She knew and surely he did as well) that once they were back on board

Voyager the pressures of command, the need for a command relationship she was familiar with would drive all these inconvenient feelings underground once more. 'You can have the shower first.'

She retrieved their clothes while he showered, finding them

scattered across the living room, testament to their rapid progression to her bed. Following him into the bathroom she remained under the warm water for a long time, recognising that she was hoping he would be gone by the time she emerged, sparing her the difficulty of separation, knowing that he would not be. She expected him still to be in the bedroom when she finished, but he was nowhere to be seen. Discarding the towel and replacing it with the first article of clothing that

came to hand, afraid he might after all have left, she went in search of him.

Stepping out of the bedroom she was reassured, catching sight

of him at once. 'I thought you'd gone without a goodbye kiss.'

'Kathryn, I' her lips stopped whatever he would have said next, he was just too enticing to resist. She raised herself onto her toes, arms around his neck, deliberately pressing her body into his so that the cloth of the shirt she was wearing rubbed delicately against his chest. For all of a second it felt as though he was trying to say something, but then he abandoned the task, kissing her back.

The polite Vulcan cough behind her took her mind off the kiss

rapidly, especially since it was accompanied by a distinctly human yelp. As she pulled away Chakotay said, 'I did try to warn you,'

A brief moment to compose herself seemed completely inadequate. She had, after all, just been caught kissing a bare chested Chakotay, wearing the shirt he was so clearly without and nothing else. All in all, she though she displayed considerable sang froid in turning to face Tuvok and a scarlet Harry Kim and saying, 'gentlemen,' in a voice that would not have been out of place on the Bridge.

The End