Summary: C/P, A/K.
Leone's "30 Days" challenge. Chapter Seven:
Heroes come in different guises.
Copyright February 2002
Cassatt
Captain Kathryn Janeway sat behind her desk, taking a moment to sip her coffee while she contemplated the suggestion of her First Officer Chakotay. It didn't look to her as if Tuvok approved, but perhaps she was making too much of his raised eyebrow.
She put her mug back down. "I'm afraid I'm still not understanding, fully, why Mr. Dalby would be a good candidate. It was necessary for you to punch him in the not too distant past."
"Exactly, Captain," Chakotay answered. "It wouldn't be so odd for him to act out, and decide to leave the ship. Everyone would believe it. They'd at least be prone to believing it. And, like I said, Kenneth owes me a very large debt, and has expressed his wish to make restitution."
"But that's a personal debt, right? Can you tell me what it is?"
She saw his eyes actually blaze for a moment. The Maquis captain. "He played a significant role in coming between Tom and me, on the Liberty. That's all I feel comfortable saying..."
She interrupted him. "Is that why you hit him?" She was suddenly worried that this man was using his position to exact personal vendettas.
He shook his head, looking just a bit exasperated. "No, Captain," he said calmly, "that had nothing to do with my using him to teach the group a lesson. Though, in hindsight, he might wonder about that. But no. However, like I said, Kenneth did learn from Mr. Tuvok, and has come around to be a valuable member of the crew. He merely wishes to make it up to me - and I think he would be willing to do this. To help Voyager. An added plus is that he was very tight with Seska, in the Maquis. He tended to avoid her a little here, since she was being so vocal in her opposition below decks. I think it would work." He turned to Tuvok. "What do you think, Tuvok?"
Tuvok steepled his hands together. "I do concede that Mr. Dalby is no longer a disruptive influence, Commander. And in my opinion, from observations made while on your ship, Seska would believe that he decided to leave Voyager." He now looked directly at the captain. "I am not convinced, however, that he could be trusted to carry out the mission."
Kathryn saw, once more, the blaze in Chakotay's eyes. She sighed to herself, and wondered if there would ever come a time when these two men would agree on anything. "So is there a way we can determine if Mr. Dalby is completely trustworthy? Given his past behavior and his former closeness to Seska? How do we know he's not the accomplice? What about a mind meld, Tuvok? Would that work?"
"Yes, Captain, a mind meld would work," Tuvok said after only a slight hesitation.
"Very well. Commander? Bring Mr. Dalby."
Chakotay didn't move. "And how are we going to explain to him that he needs to have a mind meld with Mr. Tuvok? This isn't something that we can just order him to do, surely..."
She sighed aloud this time. "Oh, I don't know, we'll think of something while you're getting him. And no, it won't be a direct order."
Chakotay stood, saying, "Yes, Captain." The ready room doors opened as he approached.
"Commander?" she called. He swiveled. "How's Martis?"
The transformation was remarkable. His face lit up, and she could see what Tom saw. "She's fine. Beautiful. She's with us tonight if you'd like to stop by for a visit."
"I think I'd like that, thank you," she said. And she would. He nodded and left. She smiled for a minute, thinking about something to look forward to at the end of what was turning out to be a very difficult day.
Tom rolled Martis over on to her back, closing up her pajamas. She giggled and continued chewing on her rubber ring. He leaned over and poked her belly with his nose, and her giggling got louder. "Can I have that ring," he said, trying to grab it with his teeth, which only made her laugh even harder. "Come on, give it to Da, come on...," he whined, tickling her. She squealed. He laughed.
"You know if the captain sees you like this she'll never let you pilot her ship again," a beautiful voice said from behind him. He turned his head just as Chakotay grabbed his waist, then came around to his side.
Placing his hand firmly on Martis to hold her still, Tom zeroed in on those full lips and took Chakotay's mouth in a deep, intense kiss, giving his ass a squeeze for good measure, bringing out soft moans from both of them. Martis squealed again, kicking her feet against the changing table and they broke apart, laughing. She giggled.
"You like that, huh, sweetness?" Tom said. "You like to see your daddies kissing? Well, you just remember to tell the one with the weird tattoo that captains don't like to see XO's acting like love sick teenagers either, okay? You do that for Da?" She giggled.
Chakotay growled softly and pulled their hips together. "Love sick teenagers don't have experience, Tom. Be prepared to be shown, later, just how much I know," he said, huskily. Tom's insides tingled. Chakotay kissed him, sweeping his tongue against Tom's palate, then pulled away, and grinned. "Besides, I think she's just happy to see me." He turned his attention to the child, playing with her feet, and Tom had to take a deep breath to calm his arousal. "So," Chakotay said, "how did the checkup go today? What's the verdict?"
"What we all suspected. She's aging at a rate that will make her the equivalent of four years old at the end of her first year. So right now, at one month, she's actually four months, by our human way of judging her age."
Chakotay stood and looked directly at him. "And her life expectancy?"
"Well, somewhere around twenty years, estimated," Tom answered him quietly. He had difficulty thinking about it. "And how did it go with you today? Is Ken going to do it?"
"Yes. We start tomorrow."
"Look - tell him to be careful, ok? Seska will kill him without turning a hair..."
Chakotay picked up a suddenly squirming Martis and she gurgled her thanks. He kissed her cheek. "Don't take offense, love, but I'm surprised you're worried about him."
"We've come to an understanding - and I do not want his death on my conscience. I know he's trying to make things right with you, and I'm partially responsible for that. I just don't like this whole thing. Don't like the fact that we've got another spy on board, don't like the fact that I can't figure out who it is, don't like having to deal with Seska still, this whole thing sucks."
"You're right - it does. But I'll kill her myself before I let her keep making our lives, all of our lives, miserable. Now, the captain's coming over in a few minutes to visit with sweetness here, so let's go make some drinks..."
Chakotay stood at the viewport of the briefing room, listening to everyone leave, wishing for some quiet time before sitting in his command chair. He wondered why looking at the stars was so calming - the view was unchanging, a constant reminder of how far they were from home. Ken Dalby had just given his complete and mostly unedited report of events of the past two days. Chakotay thanked the spirits that the man had returned to them unharmed, for the minute he'd left Voyager on his mission, Chakotay had experienced an uncharacteristic wave of remorse.
He knew that Kenneth had the courage to succeed, not to mention the sheer determination to do so. The man, for all of his anger and abrasiveness, had a strength of character that his former captain had relied on, many, many times. He simply wore his emotions on his sleeve, and had the tendency to be easily manipulated. Seska had proven that.
Seska. Kenneth had reported that he believed the woman to be dead. Maj Culluh had overheard her demanding, repeatedly, to know if Chakotay and Tom were still together, and if Martis had been born, and other things, which thankfully, Kenneth had kept out of his report. He had no doubts in his mind what she'd wanted to know. Her vitriol was unending where he and his male lover were concerned. Culluh had raised his phaser to her and fired; Kenneth saw her fall as he ran out of the cabin. Hiding in a vestibule, he'd overheard the Maj order his men to "Get rid of her." He'd left, taking advantage of the chaos to send the signal, fulfill his mission.
Chakotay tried to feel something about his former lover dying. He couldn't find any sorrow, and judged himself for it.
"I'm sorry, Father, I'm not the man you were," he said, quietly, to no one. He gazed out the viewport, then heard the briefing room doors open and close.
"Chakotay," the captain said, coming up to stand beside him, "do you want to talk about it?"
"It? You mean her?"
"It, I mean the whole thing."
He looked directly at her. "What would you liked to know?" He, actually, didn't feel like going into 'the whole thing' - but acknowledged that she only knew bits and pieces. It had very definitely affected her ship, and her crew, and she deserved to have her questions answered.
She leaned one elbow against the ledge of the port, and clasped her hands. "Did you love her?"
He chuckled. "You're pulling no punches here, Captain."
She said, smiling, "I think it's about time you called me Kathryn, don't you?"
"Since you're asking me personal questions about my love life, I guess I could oblige," he said, a little surprised at himself for being willing. He'd never called his superior officers by their first names while in Starfleet. In the Maquis, things were different. Perhaps this was an indication of just how this journey was going to be. She'd listen to his perspective as a colleague, and not as a superior officer. He hoped so. He had a feeling it would need to be like that, for them to survive.
"You haven't answered my question," she said.
"Did I love Seska? No, in hindsight, I'd have to say no."
"I know you've told me she wasn't happy about the two of you being only friends, but I still find it hard to imagine that she still hadn't let go. That she died because of it. I would have thought she'd be smarter than that."
"Oh, she was very smart, she just didn't like losing. She was devious. And dangerous, as you've had the misfortune to see. I was the fool," he said harshly. Embarrassed, he let his eyes drift back to the stars.
She sighed. "She broke you and Tom up, didn't she. She was the one behind it."
"Doesn't really matter who was behind it, I let it happen. I was the one who believed Kenneth. I should never have done that. Everything would have been different, if I'd only believed in Tom, rather than in a lie." He felt the weight of his guilt press against his chest. He hadn't meant to get into this, with this woman, but for some reason it felt ... okay. "He'd never have ended up in Auckland..."
"How can you say that?"
"I wouldn't have let him out of my sight! And he wouldn't have been trying to prove something to me. To me," he hissed.
"Oh, Chakotay, you would have had to let him out of your sight at some point. At some point, you would have needed his expertise to fly a shuttle - and you would have had to order him to do it. As your lover or not. And he would have done it. You know that, I'm sure you do. You can't protect him forever," she said softly.
His throat was beginning to close, and tears were pricking the corners of his eyes. He took a deep breath to push them away. "I'll protect him until my dying day." He looked at her again. Kathryn. "Besides, you were the one who took him out of that place. Why did you, by the way? Neither one of us believes that you really thought he could help you find me."
"Did you know I used to baby-sit him? He didn't really need it, he was old enough to be by himself, but the Admiral and Mrs. Paris asked me to do it anyway. I suspect Starfleet wanted to be sure that my maternal instincts were still there, but able to be sublimated at their command." She, too, took a moment to study the viewport, then met his eyes again. "Tom's mother contacted me. She asked me to get him out of there. It's supposed to be a state-of-the-art penal colony, clean, neat, no frayed edges. I got him out, in the most efficient way I could think of."
"Well, thank you for doing it. Seems funny for me to say this, but I'm forever in your debt. I..." But he couldn't finish, his rage over what had happened to the man he loved was beginning to surface and he only wanted to scream. Over everything.
She placed her hand on his chest. "It's okay. I know what Tom went through in Aukland. And now I'm beginning to understand what you both went through. What Seska put you through. But it's over and done with. Be angry. Be furious. Just not at yourself. She's dead. You're not required to grieve for her. Anyway - you've got the person who loves you, right by your side, and a beautiful baby girl to help raise. And we'll be home before you know it," she said, grinning.
He felt his rage dissipate. "Before we know it, huh? Somehow, Kathryn, when you say that I believe you. Not that either Tom or I are in any great hurry to get there."
"Well, we'll just cross that bridge when we come to it. Now -- shall we return to work? You can sit and stare at a blond pilot who flies this ship like no one else." She began to walk toward the door. He went with her.
"I don't stare at him," he said firmly.
She laughed out loud. "No, you don't, not that often, only a few times an hour..."
Tom was walking the corridors very, very slowly, but not by choice. He was herding Martis, crawling along the carpeting, being stopped every few meters by some crew member who just had to say something to her, or to him about her. At two months, or eight human months, she hadn't started to walk yet, but she could pull herself up and stagger from hand hold to hand hold. She was, however, talking. Somewhat. But they had a specific destination in mind, and Tom did not want to take an hour to get there, so he scooped his daughter up off the floor.
"Come on, we've got to go faster than your little hands and knees can carry you, sweetie."
She squirmed and tried to dive for the floor. "Down, Da. Down," she whined.
"Nope, sorry, no down. Down not fast," he said, thinking, again, that he had to watch how he talked in front of his fellow crew members. "To get down would not be fast," he amended to his very unsettled daughter.
"Down!"
Tom did what he hoped would work. He lifted her up onto his shoulders, and held her hands. "Up, Martis, up," he crooned. She giggled. He breathed a sigh of relief. She struggled to free her hands, so he let go and held on to her feet. She grabbed his hair and giggled some more.
"Go," she said.
But he did not want to run with her in the corridors. He still had some dignity. "We are going. We're going to see Greg, right?"
"Geg. Go Geg."
"You got to work on those 'r's honey. Gr-r-eg."
"Geg."
"Okay, Geg, it is," he said, chuckling to himself. They reached the appointed quarters and he rang the chime, then took Martis off his shoulders. This time she was content to rest on his arm. When the door opened, he was surprised to see not Greg but Ken Dalby.
"Hi, Tom, and hello Martis," Ken said, putting his finger out for the child to grab. She did so, smiling broadly.
"Hi," Tom said, "where's Greg?"
"He'll be out in a sec - I was just leaving."
Martis made another move, but this wasn't a dive for the floor, it was a stretch to get to him. "Ken," she said. Tom passed her willingly, and Ken took her just as willingly. She immediately put her hand against the man's mouth, then cheek, then back to his mouth, her face a study in concentration. Greg came out from the bathroom. "Tay-o, no. No Tay-o," she said, shaking her head.
"That's right, Martis. It's gone," Ken said, smiling, kissing her hand.
"What in the world is she talking about?" Greg asked.
"Well," Tom said, "you haven't seen her in a while. We've discovered that she's telepathic. She's telling Ken that the place where Chakotay hit him doesn't hurt anymore. He doesn't think about it anymore. The hot spot is gone. She found it to begin with. She can also tell other things." He held out his arms and Martis returned to them. This time she placed her hand against Tom's mouth, then traced his lips carefully.
"Tay-o, Da," she said, smiling.
"Yup, sweetie, these lips belong to Tay-o, and only Tay-o," he said.
"Goodness, that could get embarrassing," Greg said.
"Sure could," Ken said, "and so on that note, I'll be going. Tom - pool tomorrow night? So I can whip your, um, I mean beat you?"
Tom laughed. "You're on."
The doors opened. Ken left, with good byes all around. Greg led his guests in, and after they declined refreshments, and Martis was let loose on the floor, Tom got right to the point.
"I want to talk about Harry..."
Greg interrupted him quickly. "I don't see how that's any of your business, no offense, Tom."
"None taken, but I disagree. It's my fault that the two of you never got anywhere, and I accept the responsibility for that. Harry was influenced by me, by my suspicions, but for pete's sake, Greg - it's been two months. Harry still thinks it's because of what happened to him, that you think he's not really Harry, or some such nonsense. But he is Harry..." He petered out, distracted by Martis, who had pulled herself up next to Greg's knee and was looking from him to her father and back again.
"Hay?" She said.
"Yes, Harry, that's who we're talking about," Tom said. "She still has trouble with 'r's."
"Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do here, but it's really complicated. I thought backing off was the best thing for everyone concerned." Greg folded his arms.
Tom sighed. "Well, excuse me, but backing off was not the best thing for Harry. You never even kissed the man! How can you know what's the best thing? I know you were interested, that was clear... Martis, honey, I don't think he wants you to do that..." She was in the process of climbing up onto the couch, heading for Greg's lap.
"Geg," she stated with conviction. "Geg and Hay."
"It's okay, Tom, I don't mind."
She was standing now, leaning against the back of the couch, looking carefully at Greg. He returned her gaze. Tom felt like he was losing control of the conversation, and losing ground that he needed to make up, for his best friend's sake. Martis again, reached out and touched a mouth, this time shaking her head decisively.
"No Hay," she said.
"No, no Harry," Greg said quietly.
She didn't stop her exploration, however. She touched his forehead, then dropped her hand to Greg's chest. She repeated the movements, ending with her hand on his breast bone. "Hay," she said. "Yes, Hay."
Tom groaned to himself. But to his surprise, Greg's eyes misted over.
"Yes, Martis," Greg said, still speaking quietly, "that's where Harry is. Right there."
"Hay theah."
Greg made eye contact with Tom. "For what it's worth, I don't think that Harry's not Harry. I admit, I was very shook up when Harry died, and even more so when the 'other' Harry came on board. But I don't think about that any more. I think... I didn't like the fact that he paid so much attention to your opinion, rather than trusting that I'd never do something like Seska was wanting. Like what Ken did. I'd never deliberately hurt Chakotay like that. I may not have been a particular fan of yours back then, but I figured if the captain wanted to be with you, that was his business. His choice."
"I'm sorry, Greg. Please - give Harry another chance. He's not at all happy right now. I'd like to see him happy, and I think you can give him that."
Greg looked at the child still contemplating him so seriously, then turned back again to Tom. "I'll consider it. That's all I'll say at the moment."
"Fair enough," Tom said, and he meant it.
"Momma!"
Tom trotted into the hydroponics bay, this time bouncing his daughter up and down on his shoulders. Kes turned around and beamed a smile at both of them. He swung Martis down and handed her over and she wrapped her arms around Kes's neck.
"Hi lovie," Kes said softly, rubbing the child's back. "Did you have fun? What did you do with your Da?"
Tom smiled as Martis pulled back from her choke hold. "Geg and Hay," she stated.
Kes darted a look at Tom. "Harry and ... Greg? You went and saw Harry and Greg?"
"Geg. No Hay."
Tom interrupted. "We went to talk to Greg. About Harry. And your daughter showed her little gift off to him. Found Harry, right in the center of his chest. Just about blew the man away..."
"Tom, what are we going to do about that? We can't stop her... Wait a minute - she found Harry? So Greg does have feelings for Harry?"
Tom smiled broadly, he couldn't help himself. "Looks like it. He admitted it. To Martis, that is."
"Lieutenant," she teased, "you are a true romantic."
"Not me, I'm the cynic, remember?"
"Sorry, no, I don't know that guy. I think I used to, but he was just a mirage," Kes said. "I know someone who loves Chakotay deeply, and loves his daughter, and would lay his life on the line for either of them, not to mention anyone else on this ship."
"Well, I love you too, Kes," Tom said softly.
"Good, because I love you right back," she said. "Now, what are we going to do about her abilities? I know we've agreed to let her be herself, but we've got to set some limits..."
Tom laughed. "No kidding. It's a good thing that she's confining her areas of exploration to those above the waist - because I swear, if she points to my crotch in the middle of the mess hall, sighing, 'Tay-o, Da,' - I won't know what to do!"
Kes looked at him with shock, then burst out laughing. Martis, on her hip, clapped and squealed in delight.
Harry finished clearing off his eating table, putting the dishes in the recycler. He hadn't been in the mood for the mess hall, particularly since Tom was eating in with the commander. He didn't want to chance running into Greg, alone, with no protection, so instead he spent his dinner time thinking about the man. It was the same thing every night. Wondering what he could do to make things be the way they were - when they were just dating. Just enjoying each other's company. Gently flirting. When Harry'd walked around with a small spot of excitement in the pit of his stomach. Wondering if he'd fallen in love with Greg. Wondering what it would be like to kiss a man. What Greg's kiss would be like. Not to mention everything else he'd wondered about doing with that man.
He felt only slightly bad for lying to his best friend. He'd had zero experience with men. Hours and hours of interest, zero experience. He didn't think that jacking off to vids counted. And the vids he liked, the ones he could remember from being on Earth, were not the anonymous sex in dark alleys vids. He liked the dashing heroes in the vids with ridiculous plots. But he didn't care about the plots. The men in the hero roles were sexy as hell, and he'd never, ever tell Tom this, not now anyhow, but when he'd first seen Commander Chakotay enter the bridge, he'd felt a stirring in his groin. He hadn't noticed the tall, dark eyed silent man behind the Maquis captain at the time, but he soon did. Gregory Ayala, stoic, strong, watching over suspicious aliens on security detail, manning the tactical station with assuredness. Harry had begun to notice this man who played pool with the commander, and occasionally smiled and even laughed. And when Greg had begun to spend time with him, he'd very definitely noticed that when he smiled, his eyes shone and almost glowed. He no longer wondered if he had fallen in love, just how to fall out again. Harry sighed loudly and picked up his drink.
The door chimed, and he called for entrance. Greg walked in and his heart flip-flopped. He felt rooted to the spot, and it wasn't until the man was just a half a meter away that he realized they hadn't said anything to each other.
"Greg..."
Greg placed a finger on Harry's lips and shook his head. Then he cupped his face, so tenderly that Harry completely froze.
"What are you doing," he choked out.
Greg said quietly, "Something I should have done months ago." Before Harry could react, Greg's mouth covered his, and he could feel every millimeter of his lips being caressed, his stomach falling to his feet, and desire burn like wildfire through his body. He kissed him back, not even aware of his actions until Greg's mouth moved more convincingly. His knees got weak and he collapsed against the edge of the table. A man was kissing him, Greg was kissing him, he was kissing Greg - the awareness hit his fevered mind and then his groin, with a rush. He hardened further.
Greg parted his lips enough to push against Harry's with his tongue, demanding entrance, and he gave in willingly, opening his mouth with a now pounding heart. Greg groaned from deep in his throat and plunged in forcefully, running his tongue around Harry's. He was totally lost. He tried to support himself with his hands on the table, but he couldn't quite feel them. Greg was pressing against him, giving him a kiss so deep they could barely breathe. Without knowing it, Harry had parted his legs, and Greg parted them further, moving quickly to make as much body contact as possible and when he felt the man's erection pushing near his own, he disintegrated.
Suddenly, he was holding himself up on his elbows, then his back was on the table, and then Greg was on top of him and finally his arms were free. He grabbed the man, and moaned into his mouth. Greg kept up the oral assault until Harry thought he had died and surely found bliss. The feel of the man pressing down on him, their erections thrusting against fabric and each other was almost more than he could take, and an out of control orgasm was beginning. At that moment, Greg pulled back and stopped moving his body. They locked glassy eyes. Harry's orgasm receded.
"I'm taking you to bed, Harry," Greg said.
The climax threatened again. Words, he had to form words... "To fuck me?" Please?
"No - to make love to you, until you can't walk." Greg fell onto his neck and sucked.
Harry groaned. "I ... I don't think I can walk now," he said.
"Do you want me to carry you?"
Harry's heart raced. God, yes. "Yeah, and then could you save my life, too?"
Greg moved away and made eye contact. "I would in a nanosecond. I've already lost you once. I'm not going lose you again." He moved even further away, and stood. He held out his hand. "Come on," he said huskily, "or I'll throw you over my shoulder..."
Harry took his hand, emotionally
overwhelmed and so hard he ached. Yes - over the shoulder would be good...