Time Frame: In the second half of season six.

Story Notes: One view of how "The Talk" might go, if TPTB ever let them have it.

As always, thanks to m.c. moose for her assistance.
 

UNCONDITIONAL

Maybe that was what caused her to reach up, trace her finger along the angle of his jaw, and kiss him. She hadn't planned it, hadn't planned a seduction when she invited her first officer to her quarters for a late dinner.

They had been eating together almost nightly for quite some time. Except this evening, they'd already finished the day's work in his office and she suggested he drop by anyway. He accepted readily, and on the spur of a moment she decided to wear something other than her uniform.

The dress she selected wasn't particularly revealing or sexy. She didn't exactly have that sort of thing in her wardrobe, after all. Just a simple dress, but she felt more feminine that she had for a long time. She was glad she'd done it when he showed up in casual clothes as well.

Dinner was very enjoyable. Good food, wine and candlelight. After all the strain between them, all the ups and downs in their relationship as captain and first officer, lately they'd been a lot more comfortable with each other. In a way, it felt almost as it did back at the beginning of the journey, before there were any major disagreements between them, or feelings of unrequited love, anger or betrayal. Just Kathryn and Chakotay, friends. It felt good. It felt damn good. He felt it too---she could tell by the smile in his eyes.

So why did she risk ruining everything with that kiss?

At the first touch of her lips to his, his hands came up to her shoulders. For an instant, he returned the kiss and she could think of nothing but the way his mouth felt, a hint of wine and strawberries. Then he pushed her away, and when he spoke, his voice was harsh.

"Why don't you just tell me what you want, so we avoid any misunderstandings."

She gaped at him, still in shock over her own actions. He went on, "A one-time fling? That's fine---no long-lasting ramifications and tomorrow we can pretend it never happened."

As his words penetrated, her initial reaction was one of anger. Is that what he thought she was after? A quick lay? He of all people should know that she didn't work that way. But she clamped down on those feelings and managed to answer evenly, "No, that isn't what I want. I thought you understood that."

"I didn't. I didn't think you wanted to play for keeps."

"Well, I do," she responded, and realized that it was the truth. "I don't know why you're so surprised. I thought you knew me better than that."

"Sometimes I wonder if I know you at all."

She winced. "I suppose I deserve that. But you know I wouldn't be saying this if I didn't mean it."

"I suppose." He turned away, toward the viewport. All she could see was his back. "I'm sorry, but you really did catch me off guard. This was probably the last thing in the world I expected to hear from you."

She took a few tentative steps toward him. "Don't tell me you didn't know my feelings for you."

"I didn't think they were very strong, considering how successfully you've kept them buried all this time."

"I suppose I deserve that, too," she said, wishing he would face her. She touched his arm gently. He quickly pulled back, and unwillingly, his eyes met hers.

Some of the hurt she was feeling must have been evident, because his expression softened. "I'm not trying to pay you back. I'm just trying to understand. So after all these years of pushing me away, of acting as if my feelings for you were an unwelcome intrusion into the command structure, now you've decided you want me after all."

"Something like that."

He turned back to the starry panorama. "Can I ask what brought about this change of heart?"

She closed the distance between them once more, till he was forced to look at her. "That's exactly it. Heart. Chakotay, I've been alone all this time, and tried to tell myself it didn't matter, that it couldn't be any other way. And I tried not to let myself wonder what it would be like if I would just let you in---" Something in his face stopped her.

"I still don't quite believe what I'm hearing. So how do you expect me to react to this revelation?"

She tried to keep her voice light. "I was hoping you'd take me in your arms and kiss me."

"And make love to you..." He sighed. "Look, Kathryn, didn't you stop to think that you're expecting a hell of a lot? That you can just snap your fingers and I'd come running? After all this time, after everything that has happened between us?"

"I'm not that egotistical." She took a deep breath. "I know we've...hurt each other quite a bit over the years. But I thought, despite everything, that you still loved me." There. She's said it. The word seemed to echo in the silence.

" 'Love' is a very complicated word," he said at last. "I haven't exactly been standing still, pining for you, all this time."

"I know that. You've moved on, on more than one occasion." She couldn't resist adding, a bit sarcastically, "We can stand here and compare notes if you'd like."

He went on as if he hadn't heard. "And let's not forget all the professional disagreements we've had."

"I thought we were talking about our personal lives."

"But you never were very good at keeping them separate, were you?" he retorted, with the first hint of anger. "Any time I disagreed with one of your command decisions, you always managed to make it an issue of personal betrayal."

She looked him full in the eye. "I'm not proud of that, Chakotay."

"You shouldn't be. Conduct most unbecoming to a captain, " he said mockingly. "I wasn't the one who was endangering protocol and the command structure."

"No, you weren't," she said quietly. "I said I was wrong."

His lip curled downward, as if he'd tasted something unpleasant. "I remember the first time you pulled that trick, over our alliance with the Borg. I couldn't believe you did that. I tried telling myself it was an aberration, but it wasn't, was it? After the Equinox, you don't know how close I came---"

"I do," she cut him off quickly. "Believe me, I do. You wouldn't even look at me for weeks afterwards, wouldn't speak to me outside of ship's business."

"You betrayed us, Kathryn." He caught her bare arm suddenly, in a grasp so hard she wondered if it would leave a mark. "Me, this crew, those poor bastards on the Equinox who were caught up in a power struggle they couldn't comprehend. And yourself."

She twisted away. "I'm aware of that." She didn't know why he was bringing this up now, what he hoped to gain. The conversation wasn't going at all the way she'd thought it would. "Now if you're done raking me over the coals, would you like to respond to the question? Do we still have a chance?"

"I am answering you," he said, somewhat exasperated. "Don't you see, to you everything is always black or white. You always demand unconditional loyalty, unconditional support." He passed his hand tiredly over his face and his voice dropped so low she had to strain to hear him. "And I don't know if I can give that to you."

Her heart seemed to stop beating for a moment, but then the old "Janeway determination" kicked in. "Yes, you can," she insisted. "I know you can. You promised, once. I've never forgotten."

"That was a long time ago, Kathryn," he said quietly. "I'm not that same person any more. And neither are you."

"I know I've...changed over the years. I know I don't have the right to ask this of you---"

"You don't."

She retreated a little and her glance fell on the table, to the remains of their meal---a reminder of how the evening had started out. How had they gotten to this point? She turned to look at him again. He hadn't moved, still stood with his arms folded across his chest, his face unreadable. "Just answer me this," she said. "Do you still love me?"

"Oh, Kathryn." His arms dropped to his sides, and she thought she caught a look of sadness in his eyes. "I don't know quite how to say this to you so you'll understand. Hell, I don't know if I... All right. I care about you, very much. I would do almost anything for you. Almost. I respect you, admire you for the way you've held this crew together. Against all odds, six years later, most are still alive, and we're a lot closer to home. You may actually get us all the way there, by sheer cussedness and  strength of will, if nothing else." She caught the echo of passion in his voice, enough to give her hope, but it was dashed by his next words, "You can rely on me to give the captain my unconditional support."

"And what about Kathryn?" she asked plaintively.

He made his way over to a chair and sat down heavily. "What do you really want from me?"

"I want..." she hesitated. And then the words began to flow, almost faster than she could get them out. "I want your smile. That one that reassures me that everything is going to be all right. And the way your dimples flash, when you're teasing. I want your ancient legends, the stories you seem to have for every occasion. I want your coolness under fire, helping me to find a workable solution when we're presented with a seemingly unworkable mess. I want your touch, the way you can always make me feel so...alive. I want you."

He didn't seem impressed by her confession. He leaned forward, his hands clenched together so tightly she could see the knuckles turning white. "And what makes you think I'm capable of giving you all that? What makes you think I still want to make the effort?"

"I don't know for sure," she admitted.

"You always were a gambler, Kathryn, when it came to command decisions," he said, shaking his head. "But never in your personal life."

"There's a first time for everything."

He gave her a long, searching look. "You're serious about all this, aren't you?"

"I won't ask for more than you feel comfortable giving me." She abandoned the calm demeanor she'd been attempting to project. "Damn it, Chakotay, I love you and I thought you loved me."

"I'm still your friend, Kathryn. I will always be your friend."

She heard resignation in his voice, resignation and a note of finality. "But nothing more. Oh, God, I'm sorry. Sorry I ever brought this up."

She turned to go, before the tears came, before she lost whatever shred of dignity she had left. She'd bared her soul to him, and he didn't want her. He didn't want her. She had no idea where she was going to go; all she knew was that she couldn't stay in that room another minute.

~*~

He has always thought he'd never known another person with a face and eyes as expressive as Kathryn's. Despite her "command face", if you knew just where to look, it was easy to see what she was feeling. He sat there now watching the emotions play across her face, one right after the other, from love to doubt to anger and finally despair. But as she turned, bent on flight, it was his own emotions that caught him by surprise.

He was out of the chair quickly, only peripherally aware that it had fallen over with a crash. Before she reached the door, he caught her arm and spun her around to face him. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

She struggled to break his grasp, but he was too strong for her. She looked up, her eyes flashing. "This discussion is over, isn't it? You've made it perfectly clear you aren't interested in pursuing a relationship with me."

"Listen to me, " he said sharply. "I told you it isn't that simple, that what I feel for you isn't so easily defined." She finally quieted, and he realized he was still holding her. Embarrassed, he let go, and moved away. She was breathing heavily, and watching him warily, but at least she seemed willing to listen. Good. Adopting a tone much calmer than he felt, he said, "Remember when we first met?"

"In the middle of a crisis situation." Almost to herself, she added, "Not a very auspicious beginning."

He smiled very slightly, despite himself and their situation. "Actually, it was. I was the renegade Maquis you'd been sent to capture, but you offered to work together, and I knew that I could trust you."

Her head was bent, her hair tumbled forward, obscuring her face. "We were working toward a common goal, and it made sense to pool our resources."

"There aren't many Starfleet officers who would have reacted the same way."

"It turned out to be the right choice, wouldn't you say?"

"Definitely."

She looked up at that. "I know that I couldn't have asked for a better first officer...or friend."

"I felt the same way," he said, hardly conscious that he was moving toward her. "And then I found myself falling in love with you."

She didn't step back. "New Earth," she said, and swallowed. Then, "Sometimes I wonder how things would have turned out if we'd never been stranded there."

Her words brought up images of the two of them with a sharp clarity. Their time on the planet had only served to confirm what he'd already known long before. "I fell in love with you much earlier," he said. "It was a few months into our journey, I can't even recall exactly when." As he spoke his voice warmed, remembering how it had been so long ago. "I always had tremendous respect and admiration for you. Your courage, determination, the way you believed in second chances. The way you fought for what you believed in. But somewhere, sometime, I began to see you in a different light, and I wanted you to let me fight your battles for you. I always saw my role as trying the best I could to make your struggle a little easier."

"You always have," she said softly.

"I wanted to be more than that, Kathryn. But you never let me."

She bit her lower lip, an expression of regret he'd seen many times. "I had my reasons, and they seemed so right at the time." She hesitated before adding, "It wasn't an easy decision."

The spell woven from memory was broken. Trying to keep the bitterness from his voice, he said, "I didn't see that you had much difficulty. I told myself you did really care, but I couldn't understand why a bunch of empty phrases such as 'protocol' meant more to you, in the end, than I did."

"It wasn't just Starfleet protocol," she insisted. "I wasn't free at the start of this mission, you know that. I had a fiance waiting for me at home."

"Seventy thousand light years away," he reminded her, more sharply than he'd intended. "I don't mean to denigrate your feelings for Mark---I know you loved him. That's why I never pushed you, when we were on New Earth. I knew you needed time to accept that that part of your life was over, and there was no going back. But even after the first few years of our journey had gone by, you never turned to me and used every excuse to shut me out."

"Chakotay, I---"

"I thought maybe, when we first got those letters from home, and you heard that Mark had moved on, gotten married, that there would be a chance for us. But you never once came to me, not like this." He closed his eyes for a moment. "I think I knew then that it was over. No, that's not true. I knew then that it would never be."

"I...I wish I had known that's what you were thinking. I'm sorry. I just needed some time."

"I gave you plenty of time, Kathryn," he said sadly. "But it didn't make a difference. I tried giving you space, but you pulled even farther away from me. Not just from me, from Tuvok, from Tom, from the rest of the crew. You isolated yourself from all of us."

"You're talking about the Void," she said, her voice suddenly tight. "Damn it, Chakotay, I was suffering through a major depression! Couldn't you see I needed you then? If you'd only reached out to me---"

"I did reach out to you, but you pulled away again. Nothing I said or did had any effect." He considered a moment, then decided he may as well be totally honest with her. "But I wasn't talking only about the Void, Kathryn. Even afterwards, the only person you seemed to spend time with off duty was Seven."

"She needed me, needed a mentor---"

"Yes, and she needed friends," he interjected. "As did you. But even after Seven began to find her way socially, you still held yourself back."

"I never meant---"

"Good intentions, Kathryn," he said, though not unkindly. "But they still lead to hell."

A look of infinite sadness passed over her face, but when she spoke her voice was steady. "I'm sorry I put you through that."

"Put yourself through it, is more like it."

She had no answer for that. She took a tentative step toward him, then stopped, and turned away. He watched the set of her shoulders, saw them shudder as if she was steeling herself for battle. But when she faced him again, he saw only a woman suddenly bereft of her armor.

"Well, I seem to have the knack for making things harder than they have to be." She took a deep breath. "Oh, damn...I'm sorry. Sorry for everything I did wrong in the past, sorry for screwing up your life as well as mine, sorry for taking too long to let you know how much I love you. I just wanted to be sure..." Her voice trailed off.

He was surprised by the feeling of tenderness that swept through him at seeing her so vulnerable. "Sure of what?" he asked softly.

"Sure that I could love you the way I thought you loved me," she whispered.

"Unconditionally, without reservation or holding back."

"Yes."

"You're a romantic fool, Kathryn Janeway."

"I suppose I am."

A single tear coursed down her face. He reached over and gently wiped it, then stroked her hair back, away from her face. "Then we make a pretty well-matched pair...for believing in second chances."

Her eyes met his questioningly. "What? Are you saying---"

"Yes. God help me, I do still love you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I could never turn my back on you, not now, not ever."

She looked as though she was about to cry in earnest, but made an obvious attempt to control it. "After all we've been through, do you think we can make it work?"

"I'd like to try," he said, and then she was in his arms. He hugged her tightly and kissed the top of her head. With his lips still touching her hair, he murmured, "I've missed you, Kathryn."

"Oh, Chakotay..."

They clung together like that for a a few moments before he relaxed his hold somewhat. "But we're going to have to set some parameters."

"Isn't that my line?" she asked, a hint of a smile playing about the corners of her mouth.

"I'm serious, Kathryn," he said and let go of her.

"All right, I'm listening."

He watched her carefully, trying to gauge how she was going to react. "The most important one is, you can't take our professional disagreements into our personal lives."

"I promise," she said, and he did not doubt her sincerity. "But it works the other way, too, you know."

"You're the captain; the final decision is yours, as always," he assured her. "But you can't just dismiss my concerns out of hand."

"When's the last time I did that?" she countered. "You do have to admit, I have improved."

"True," he acknowledged. It's just that you've got a long track record to overcome."

"Anything else?"

"You can't take me for granted. You can't assume that I'll be there forever, no matter what."

Her smile faded. "Oh, I've learned that lesson. I know that even with the best intentions, 'forever' is just a word, and doesn't mean very much."

He mentally kicked himself for putting it so badly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to---"

"It's all right. We're both adults," she said, then held out her hand. "I don't need fairy tales, Chakotay. But I do need you."

He laced his fingers through hers and then looked deep into her eyes. "What I'm trying to say, Kathryn, is I can't promise you unconditional love. But as long as we both keep trying, we can come awfully close."

"If you can't promise me forever---"

"We can try for always."
 

FINIS

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