New Offerings

Staring at her closet in disbelief, Kathryn started shaking with the effort to keep the laughter from bubbling forth. If her mother could see her now, she would shake her head sadly at her daughter. Kathryn, proud child of Indiana, didn't own a single piece of warm clothing, although her closet was filled to the top. But all she could find were about half a dozen clean uniforms and what she liked to term her comfort clothes. In short, nothing she could wear in a cold environment and not freeze to death in an instant.

It was ridiculous, really. Kathryn liked to take pride in the fact that she was prepared. Always. Back home half her wardrobe consisted of winter gear that would even make a Vulcan perspire. Of course, it made sense that she hadn't pack any of that, seeing as Voyager wasn't supposed to be on a deep space mission, but she couldn't quite believe that up until now she had never needed so much as a warm sweater. Thinking hard and long, Kathryn tried to remember a time, any time, when she had needed something remotely resembling warm clothing, as she was sure that had to have occurred at least once during their seven-year journey.

Five minutes later, she gave up.

Not sure what to do now, Kathryn flopped backwards onto her bed. She briefly considered replicating everything she might need, but her rations account was seriously depleted. It might only last for pair of wool socks and boots. And only if she would be willing to go without coffee for the rest of the month.

Kathryn sighed. Her options were rather limited: she could either forsake her favorite beverage for the time being or spend the Christmas holidays onboard her ship. But when she saw it like this, the decision became incredibly easy to make. It felt like forever since she had last been on shore leave and even longer since she had been in the mood for Christmas.

Ever since they had been in regular contact with their families, thanks to the Pathfinder Project, Kathryn had been once again looking to the Christmas season. A weight had been lifted from her shoulders then, knowing that her mother and sister were well. With that knowledge had come the realization that she had no reason to keep secluding herself. Especially because her mother had threatened to make Kathryn's life a living hell if she kept hiding behind her duty as Captain. And her mother could be very convincing, Kathryn recalled with a slight shiver going down her spine.

So this year, Kathryn had decided to not only enjoy the Christmas season but also take a long overdue shore leave and nothing, not even the prospect of coffee deprivation, was going to keep her from taking this chance. Of course, she admitted, spending time with her First Officer was another bonus. Unfortunately for him, the poor man didn't yet know what was going to hit him. She had been careful not to spoil the surprise. But, she realized, if she didn't get going soon, she would never make it planet side, let alone be able to see Chakotay's expression when she unexpectedly turned up at his doorstep.

With renewed determination, Kathryn got up. So what if she didn't have much of anything wearable for winter? She would simply wear what she little she did have in layers. When she was dressed, Kathryn stuffed a few personal items into a backpack, headed to the replicator and blew her last rations on warm socks and boots, and surprisingly, even a comforter. Smiling to herself, Kathryn slipped into her new boots and wound the comforter around her neck. One last glance in the mirror confirmed her suspicion: she wasn't going to win any fashion award in her current outfit. The many layers of clothing made her look like a stranded whale, but she found she didn't care overmuch. At least she would be reasonably warm.

Grabbing the backpack and the small box that she had placed on her coffee table earlier, she headed off to the transporter room, happier than she had been in a long time.

*

A knock at the door jerked Chakotay awake. Disoriented by unfamiliar surroundings, it took him a moment to get his bearings. Straightening his hair, he figured he must have fallen asleep while he had been staring into the flames. That had probably been hours ago, he realized with a brief glance at the dying embers in the fireplace.

The sharp, unpleasant sound repeated then and set his mind in motion. His brows furrowing, Chakotay scrambled to his feet and reluctantly headed toward the wooden door. He wasn't expecting any company, and truth be told, he didn't want it either. Not when he had basically hand-selected this log cabin for its secluded location up in the hills. That alone should have told anyone with just a little brain left that he wanted to be alone. His visitor was cheerfully oblivious to this though.

Chakotay briefly considered feigning absence. It would be reasonably easy to do this, seeing as the dying embers were the only source of light in the whole cabin. He doubted anyone outside could see them. All he needed to do was ignore his visitor and lay back down on the couch. At one point, probably soon, the person outside would give up, and he might even be able to go back to sleep. It was tempting. Very, very tempting.

Another knock shattered his resolve. Whoever that was, he or she was persistent. And growing impatient. The knocks came more frequently now, and more importantly, they were loud enough to wake the dead. He didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell at ignoring them. Giving in at last, Chakotay turned on the lights and opened the door at the same time his visitor was about to knock again.

She knocked at his chest.

"Kathryn?"

Her face appeared from behind an oversized paper bag as soon as she heard his voice. Then she noticed that she'd missed the door by far and snatched her hand back, as if burned. "Oh," was all she said before her ears turned a nice shade of pink.

An even nicer shade of pink, Chakotay mentally corrected himself, before he was blinded by a dazzling smile. "What are you doing here?"

"I bear gifts in hopes of being allowed inside."

His brows shot up. "Bribery?"

She shivered, but her smile never wavered. "Is it working?"

Chakotay didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so he pulled her inside and closed the door before they both froze to death and he wouldn't get a chance to do either.

"I'll take that as a yes." Kathryn looked around and her eyes lit up. "Nice. No wonder I had such a hard time finding you. I bet you've chosen this place because it's so . . ." She trailed off then, and he could pinpoint the exact moment realization dawned. "Secluded," she finished at last. "I'm interrupting, aren't I."

Chakotay saw her shoulders slump just a little as her own words sunk in, and some of that joy she had practically been radiating left her eyes. It bothered him. "No, it's fine. You're not interrupting anything," he heard himself say, against better judgment. "Why don't you give me that paper bag and make yourself comfortable? I'll be right back."

She didn't look convinced. "You sure? Because if you're not, I'll be on my merry way."

He gave her a stern look, noticing for the first time that she wasn't exactly equipped for the weather. It gave him the perfect excuse. "If you think I'll let you go back outside in that outfit, think again. Spirits, Kathryn, what were you thinking? It's cold enough to make hell freeze over and you're not even wearing a coat."

She had the good sense to look sheepish. "Believe me, I noticed. In fact, I noticed little else on my way up here."

"You walked?" he asked, incredulous.

Nodding, she gave him a nervous smile. "I miscalculated the distance from the shopping mall to your cabin."

It was a good three-kilometer hike uphill. Chakotay stared at her in disbelief. "Have I ever told you that you're insane?"

"This week?"

He grinned, flashing his teeth at her. Leave it to Kathryn Janeway to turn his world upside down and make him feel good about it, at that. "Point taken." He took the paper back out of her arms then, but nearly dropped it. It was surprisingly heavy. "What's all this? Smells delicious," he said, peering inside. "And looks good, too."

"Local cuisine. Completely without Leola Root, too."

"That's always a plus." Heading toward the kitchen, Chakotay mentally prepared dinner. Kathryn had brought the local equivalent of cheese and bread, something that looked like a cucumber, only pink, two bottles of red wine, coffee, chocolate . . . He chuckled, unable to control himself. "You found coffee and you didn't stay right at the source?" he asked, turning around. Kathryn, however, wasn't right behind him, like he had expected her to. She was still standing near the door, looking for all the world as if she was ready to bail. "Kathryn?"

Her head snapped around and she absently bit her lower lip. "Hmm?"

"What were you just thinking?"

"That I should probably leave you alone."

As soon as the words were out, they both knew she hadn't meant to say them aloud.

Putting the bag on the kitchen counter, Chakotay walked over, took her by the shoulders, and gently steered her into the kitchen. "You're staying," he told her, taking the backpack from her and letting it drop to the floor. He could tell that his words surprised her, but so did they him. Now that she was here, he found he truly didn't want her to leave again, even though he had originally planned to spend this shore leave on his own. But in the few minutes that she had been here, his mood had improved considerably. "What's more, you're going to help me prepare dinner."

She looked doubtful. "I am?"

"You're not cooking, so we're safe." He was rewarded with an elbow in his ribs. "Careful, Kathryn, I might be tempted to withhold coffee for that."

"You wouldn't dare," she said, her expression something between dangerous and afraid.

"Try me."

*

"I'm waiting, Chakotay."

Yes, he could see that. Kathryn, despite her small height, seemed to be looming above him in perfect command posture: hands on hips, shoulders squared, chin stuck out. The only thing that didn't quite fit the picture was her left foot; it was tapping on the floor. Chakotay allowed himself a small smile. Oh yes, she wanted it badly. "If you ask nicely . . ."

He had underestimated just how badly she wanted it, though. The words had barely passed his lips when he found himself pressed against the wall, trapped by her arms on either side of him. She shot him a vicious glare from under her eyelashes. "Are you ready to give in or do I need to tickle you first?"

He stood his ground. What little ground he had left anyway. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me," she echoed his words from before. If anything, her stance became even more threatening.

Chakotay, recognizing a lost cause when he saw one, slowly lowered his right arm and handed her the pack of coffee. Her transition was instantaneous. Kathryn went from ready to maim to cheerfully oblivious in the blink of an eye. That was fast, even by her standards. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you haven't had coffee today."

"You got it in one," she replied, then opened the pack and let the intoxicating scent of coffee invade her nostrils. "This smells heavenly. We need to buy an amount of this before we leave."

His brows shot up as her words slowly sunk in. "You feeling okay over there?"

"I am now." Her gaze swept the kitchen's interior until she found what she was looking for. She made a beeline for the coffee machine, filled in coffee and water, and turned it on. Turning around, she found him staring at her in surprise. "What?"

"You haven't had coffee yet?"

"I needed my replicator rations for more important things."

Chakotay shook his head in bewilderment. "Who are you and what have you done with Captain Janeway?"

Kathryn grew serious all of a sudden. "I left her on the ship."

"Then who has been ordering me around all evening?" he teased, his eyes sparkling with humor.

He might as well have slapped her.

Without a word, Kathryn left him. She snatched her comforter off the couch in passing and was out the door before Chakotay could do so much as blink. Stunned, he mentally retraced his words and swore under his breath when he realized his error. In his defense, years of being rejected had made him not take remarks like this seriously. Humor was his only defense.

Chakotay had the presence of mind to grab a scarf before he took off after her.

She hadn't gone far.

He watched her back, torn between the need to go to her and apologize and her obvious wish to be alone. She held herself rigidly, staring off into the night sky. If it hadn't been for the pronounced tremor going through her body, he might have left her alone. He wasn't about to let her freeze to death, however. Quietly, he walked over, so as not to startle her, and draped the scarf around her shoulders. When the shivering didn't subside, he debated with himself whether or not he should slip his arms around her waist to warm her up. But in light of recent events, he wasn't sure the gesture would be appreciated.

In the end, Kathryn decided for him, leaning into his chest. "Sorry," she whispered after a while. "I overreacted."

Chakotay said nothing, just pulled her closer. Truth be told, he didn't know what to say. Kathryn Janeway was an enigma, and right now, she caused him no end of confusion. For one thing, she had set the parameters of their relationship a long time ago. Yet, despite that, she reacted badly when he abided by her rules. One thing was for sure, he was going to be treading on thin ice for the duration of his leave.

*

Chakotay handed her a cup of coffee before he, too, settled on the couch. Neither of them had been willing to break the silence when they went back inside, for which he was grateful. It gave him to opportunity to gather his thoughts. Now he was staring into the flames again and the irony of that wasn't lost on him. Earlier that day, he had been doing the same thing for the same reason: Kathryn Janeway.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye, noting how she had curled her feet beneath her. She would have looked the picture of relaxation if it hadn't been for her creased forehead and the fact that she had yet to touch her coffee. She was cradling the cup between her hands, but made no move to sip from it any time soon. He gave up on his secret scrutiny and looked at her openly. "At the rate you're going, that coffee is going to be stone cold before you've even tried it." Her response was to smile slightly and put the cup on the coffee table in front. He was worried now. "Kathryn, tell me what's going on."

"Nothing is going on."

"Tell that someone who's not here. You've not been yourself this evening and I'd like to know why."

At first he thought she wasn't going to answer, but then she straightened and looked him squarely in the eye. "Why didn't you invite me to come along?"

Of all the things he had been expecting, this was not it. "Excuse me?"

"Every single time there's an opportunity to take shore leave, you're there to pester me about it. If push comes to shove, you even enlist Tuvok's or the Doctor's help to gang up on me. Why not this time?"

"I didn't know that was part of my job," he said in a flat voice. "I'll make sure to add it to the description."

"That's not the point, Chakotay, and you know it."

"Right now, all I know is that you're upset because I decided not to pester you, as you put it. It's Christmas and I know that it's your least favorite holiday. So I figured for once I shouldn't try to get you to do something you didn't want."

"I'm not upset." She paused. "I'm worried that I've intruded on your spare time. I was going to surprise you, but I didn't stop to consider that you might not want company."

"You did surprise me."

"Yes. But you didn't exactly look happy about it."

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I suppose I didn't, at that. You caught me off-guard, Kathryn. I fully expected it to be Tom or B'Elanna or anyone else but you, and I wasn't in the mood to accommodate them." He waited for her to absorb his words, before he asked, "Why did you come, Kathryn?"

"I didn't want to spend Christmas alone." She looked like she was going to say something else, but then didn't.

Chakotay was rather glad. The evening had taken turns he had never imagined possible. It all began to make sense, somehow. He just wished he were quicker on the uptake. Her words seemed to imply so much more, yet fear of misinterpretation made him cautious. Treading on thin ice indeed, he thought wryly. In the years he had known her, she had never once been in favor of the Christmas holidays. On the contrary, she had stayed as detached as possible, only involving herself if absolutely necessary. "You've never been into Christmas. What changed your mind?"

"Not what, who. And I've always liked Christmas, but I couldn't bring myself to enjoy it once we've ended up in the Delta Quadrant. I couldn't bear the thought of celebrating a family holiday like this while my mom and sister didn't even know if I was still alive."

Understanding dawned. "But that's changed ever since we established regular contact with the Alpha Quadrant."

Kathryn nodded. "My mom was very adamant about what I should be doing at Christmas."

She had not come of her own volition.

This news hit him worse than he would have thought possible. All evening, he had been wondering what she had been doing here, but never once would he have guessed that it hadn't been her choice. Briefly closing his eyes, he prayed for strength. "I see."

Kathryn's head was cocked as she eyed him curiously. "Do you really?"

Chakotay smiled for her benefit. "Of course. You didn't want to disappoint your mother."

She snorted. "Is that what you think? That I'm here because it would make my mom happy?"

"That's the impression I got," he admitted slowly.

In the silence that ensued Chakotay watched a myriad of emotions flicker across Kathryn's features, not certain what he had done but wanting to undo the damage. He didn't get the chance.

In one graceful movement, Kathryn stood. "It's late," she announced, her voice not quite steady. "I'm going to bed."

He was left to watch her disappear in her room. He could tell at which point he had gone from treading on the ice to crashing through the surface, but he couldn't, for the life of him, figure out why.

Chakotay didn't know when he had finally fallen asleep, but it sure felt like five minutes ago. Prying one eye open, he prepared himself for the havoc the harsh light of morning would wreak with his retina, but was surprised to find that it wouldn't come. Opening the other eye, too, he stared at . . . nothing.

It was still in the middle of the night.

This brought on the question of what had woken him. Since he could barely make out the wall in the far-end of his bedroom, he guessed that he must have heard something. He had always been a light sleeper. So while his eyes slid shut again, he relied on his hearing. But no matter how hard he concentrated, he couldn't hear a thing. Eventually, he gave up and turned around, intent on going back to sleep.

That's when he heard the sound of a door closing.

Chakotay was wide-awake and out of bed in an instant, adrenaline compensating for lack of sleep. It wasn't even a conscious move as he quietly slipped out of his bedroom. His eyes adapted quickly to the low level of illumination and he swiftly scanned his immediate surroundings, unsure what he was looking for but determined to find it.

Nothing seemed out of place.

He stopped to strain his ears, but the beating of his heart was the only sound he could pick up in the otherwise still cabin. Frowning, he moved on quiet feet along the small corridor until he reached the door to the only other bedroom. His memory kicked in then and he came to an abrupt halt.

Chakotay turned the doorknob and the door opened easily enough. Somewhere in the back of mind a small voice warned him of the consequences of entering Kathryn's room without permission, but it was quickly quenched. For now, the fear for her safety outweighed any trepidation as to her reaction. He slipped inside.

The room was empty.

Fear paralyzed him for a second. It was the longest second of his life. All sorts of scenarios played in his mind, one worse than the other. The visuals his mind conjured up were enough to snap him out of it, however. His training kicked in, quelling his fears for the time being. He started to survey the room for any clues as to what might have happened.

His eyes narrowed when the sight of the made bed finally registered in his mind. For a long moment, he simply stared at it, reluctant to accept the obvious. It couldn't be, he thought. She wouldn't just sneak out. There had to be another explanation. Still, the longer he glared at the bed, the more obvious it became. With a sound somewhere between a sigh and a growl, Chakotay turned to check the closet and found his suspicions confirmed. It, too, was empty.

"Damn that woman," he muttered under his breath, slamming the door as he left the room. Some small part of him urged him to calm down as he stormed into the kitchen, but another much, much bigger part told it to shove its opinion where the sun didn't shine.

He would wring her neck next chance he got. He would put his hands around her slender neck and gradually exert pressure until she turned a nice, deep shade of blue. He would yell at her until his throat was dry and burning. And he would do all of this in no particular order.

He knew he was being irrational, but didn't care. It certainly beat the alternative. But as the adrenaline slowly left his system so did the initial anger until all that remained was the strong feeling of betrayal. Sinking onto a kitchen stool, Chakotay let his head drop forward until his forehead touched the smooth surface of the counter. The cold of the material seeped into his body, but he barely noticed.

Why had she left?

Chakotay laughed at that, a hollow sound that rang false in his ears. If she had left, he would have known about it. She would have let him know, would have said good-bye. No, Kathryn hadn't left. She had snuck out in the middle of the night without so much as leaving a note.

She had run away, as usual.

It shouldn't hurt so much, he should be used to it by now, but his heart wasn't receptive to any input from his brain. On days like this, he truly wished he could fall out of love with her. It just didn't pay to keep waiting for her to come around. She would always be running from him, and he would be left behind with his heart bleeding.

This had to stop. He had to stop. If not stop loving her, then stop laying his heart out in the open for her to trample upon. It was the only course of action open to him at this point. He would still be her loyal First Officer, but that was as far as it would go. No more dinners, working or otherwise, in either of their quarters. No more nagging about her sleeping habits, unless it interfered with her duty. No more dragging her off to social events, unless she wanted to go.

And no more pestering her about taking shore leave.

The resolution giving him strength, Chakotay lifted his head off the counter, but froze when something caught his attention. The small box was just barely inside his vision and he would have missed it if the twilight of dawn hadn't been reflected off its shiny surface. Drawn to it like a moth to light, he slid off the stool, crossed the length of the room, and picked it up.

For a long moment, Chakotay merely stared at it, mesmerized by its green wrapping with a red bow on top. He knew beyond a shadow of doubt who it was from. Unwrapping the box, layer by layer, he tried not to get his hopes up, but despite his best efforts, he couldn't quite keep his hands from shaking. The last shred of paper floated to the floor, unnoticed, as he opened the box and peered inside.

Chakotay couldn't have been more stunned if an armada of Borg cubes suddenly had appeared in orbit. Of all the things he had expected, a data PADD was pretty far down on his list. His brows drew together as he studied the piece of technology with a mix of curiosity and annoyance. Steeling himself, he activated the PADD and began to read. His eyes grew wide, and he had to read it three more times before he was convinced that his imagination wasn't playing tricks on him.

Ten minutes later, Chakotay was packed and ready to beam back to Voyager.

*

Chakotay wouldn't be coming.

The realization, when it finally dawned, hurt like hell. So this was what it had been like for him all these years, Kathryn thought as she sank onto the bed, numb with pain.

She had been a bundle of frayed nerves all morning, anxiously awaiting his return to the ship. Especially because she hadn't known when he would find her present.

Or what he would make of it.

Well, she knew now.

Chakotay had beamed back half an hour ago and his absence spoke volumes. If he had had any intention of using the access code to her quarters, he would have been here by now.

The pain redoubled, but Kathryn didn't fight it. It served her right for presuming that he was still interested in a relationship with her, that he still held feelings for her that went beyond friendship.

Still, it was a devastating revelation.

Tears trailed down her cheeks, but Kathryn couldn't have stopped them if she had tried. Hugging her knees to her chest, she closed her eyes in despair. The reality of the situation was that she had gambled and lost. That was all there was to it. After all, she had known it to be a possible outcome, though the knowledge brought little comfort now. But in time, she would be able to look back on this day and it wouldn't even hurt anymore.

She was kidding herself, and she knew it. Her imagination was doing overtime already, conjuring up all sorts of impossible scenarios that did nothing for her peace of mind. Chakotay, how he was talking to her in that soothing voice of his to calm her down. How his warmth surrounded her as he hugged her gently to him. How he pleaded with her to stop crying.

It was enough to drive any sane woman mad. As tempting as it was to cling to her fantasies, she also knew they were only that: fantasies. She needed to snap out of it before she started believing them. So with a force of will, Kathryn opened her eyes to face the harsh light of reality.

She couldn't see a thing.

Which had more to do with her face being pressed into a broad chest than lack of light.

The muscles in her neck protested the jerky movement as her head snapped up to stare into his concerned face. "Chakotay?" she asked in disbelief, her voice hoarse with tears. Her hands went up to touch his face, seeking assurance of what she already knew to be true. His features smoothened instantaneously as her fingers brushed over them, but his gaze remained solemnly fixed on hers. She watched an internal struggle play out in those expressive eyes, not sure what he was fighting until his head dipped to brush a quick kiss on her forehead.

Kathryn felt a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she closed her eyes and leaned into his chest once more. "You came," she said, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

"I couldn't not come," Chakotay said. "Although B'Elanna had me cornered the moment I stepped off the transporter platform."

"Remind me to demote her," she replied after several moments, her voice shaky and her words not entirely joking.

"I don't think that'll be necessary. She was pretty gun-shy by the time I was done with her." His arms tightened around her then, almost to the point of physical pain, but to Kathryn, it felt wonderful. She shifted in his arms, placing herself in a position to listen to his heartbeat. It was steady, if a bit accelerated, and probably matched her own. She could stay like this forever.

His next words put a damper on her high, however.

"Spirits, Kathryn, you sent me on an emotional rollercoaster today. When I found out that you had left, I just about could have killed you. In the end I settled for vowing to keep our relationship on a professional level from this day forward." Her heard jerk up at that, the newly acquired peace dissipating in a puff of uncertainty, but Chakotay put a finger to her lips, rendering her silent. His voice grew soft and he smiled at her. "But your gift made my newfound resolution crumble like a house of cards. Still, I don't understand why you left."

The impulse to avert her gaze was strong, but Kathryn fought it. She owed it to both him and herself to be honest, and she could never have lied to him when she was looking into his eyes. "I couldn't stay, not knowing what your reaction would be," she admitted. This time it was her turn to silence him with a gentle finger. "Let me finish, please. When I beamed down to the planet, I had high hopes. The plan was to spend a lovely evening with you, then give you the gift on Christmas Day. Believe me, I wanted to be there when you opened it. But nothing went as planned and I got cold feet. I figured it wouldn't hurt so much if, in the case you didn't accept my offering, I wasn't around to witness your reaction." She took a shuddering breath before she continued. "Of course, I was wrong."

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Chakotay lifted his hands and cradled her face between his palms, his thumbs gently wiping the last remains of her tears away. His gaze was intense. "I love you, Kathryn. Never doubt that."

His words warmed her heart in much the same way his closeness warmed the rest of her body. Kathryn let out a sigh of relief, only now realizing how much she had needed to hear the words. "And I love you."

"I have a gift for you, too."

"What's-"

Chakotay's mouth moved on hers before she could finish, coaxing a response that she was more than happy to give. "Merry Christmas," he whispered against her lips.

THE END

Feedback, please?