By Layla V.

Rating: R to NC-17, Angst
Post: Cha_Club, ATPS, CPSG, TPDorm, Paris Nights, CKOS. Anywhere else, please ask.
Posting Date: 22-Feb-2001

Disclaimer: All characters owned by Paramount. I am merely playing with them. No copyright infringement is intended.


Story note: Late at night, Tom takes a walk through the ship, pondering over his life's recent events, when life takes another interesting turn for him and Commander Chakotay. But who will face the consequences?

This story takes some hints from events that took place in Equinox I & II, makes it's own assumptions and moves on from there in it's own new direction.


Author's note: This is my first try at writing a scene worthy of an NC-17 rating. In a fandom full of so many wonderful fanfic writers, all of whom inspire me in countless, different ways, I am just testing waters. For quite a while, I have had serious doubts whether I would be able to write something like this. Finally I just said, lets do it and see how it turns out.

Again, I'd like to thank my dear friend and fellow Chak-torture-enthusiast Morticia (sniggers) for her tremendous help in reading through this, helping me with ideas and pointing out my punctuation errors. I have no idea how I got through school and college. I am absolutely NIL when it comes to COMMAS. If it weren't for Mort's support and my Yahoo-buddies Leone and Elli's patience, I don't think I would have been able to finish this. Feedback is craved for and always welcome at! Thanks. :-)




It is 0200 as I walk down the nearly deserted corridors. My mind is a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The ship has been abuzz with activity the last two days, the repair teams working overtime to compensate for the damage caused by our rendezvous with the Equinox.

I, myself, had finished the gamma shift on the bridge at 0800 the previous morning. After grabbing a quick breakfast in the messhall, I reported straight to Engineering, where I spent the next eight hours working on the fusion reactors, with the repair teams, which the Equinox had taken out with the last of their torpedo attacks on us. Bloody Starfleet sistership going bonkers.

It had been hell working alongside B'Elanna. She was on the edge the whole day, yelling at the repair crews, cursing at her engineering staff, dissatisfied with everyone and everything, while at the same time resolutely trying to act as if she didn't notice me.

Strange how guilt can make one act in pressure situations.

Yeah, I suppose she must be feeling the pressure at the moment. I, on the other hand, already made my decision two days ago and she knows what it is.

We are through.

I don't care if the guy she had slept with is dead now. All I know is the betrayal I felt the moment I walked in on them, that night, in her quarters.

She had tried to talk to me afterwards, telling me how she hadn't really wanted this to happen, how she had just been wrapping up some ancient unfinished business, how she had been seduced by her old boyfriend.

It didn't matter. I didn't care. She had cheated on me.

It is over.

It is strange in a way. I have not yelled at her once. Maybe the intensity of my pain is not as deep as I would have expected it to be. I am supposed to be raving, teeth-grittingly, nose-flaringly mad at her, but all I feel is a dry, dull ache in my heart.

It is weird. This lack of anger surprises me. She has cheated on me the first chance she has gotten. I never did that, even though I have been tempted every day. Oh God, how I have been tempted, sitting on that bridge every shift, so close and yet so far. But I never actually did anything about it. When I made a commitment to her, when I took her as my soul mate, I made sure I stayed true to our promise.

Soul mate.

Maybe that was my undoing. Maybe she really hadn't been my soul mate. Her attitude towards me was decidedly icy today. It was a bitter awakening, like a splash of cold water on my face. And still I didn't erupt. The anger within me is morphing into something new at the moment. What it is, I am not sure.

Earlier, I had thought of asking Chakotay to assign me to a different repair team. The Commander, though, has been neck-deep in work-assignments, crew rosters, repair crew rotations, meetings with Tuvok on security issues, not to mention psychological counseling of several effected crewmembers. On top of that, there is that thing with the Captain. I wonder what has happened between the two of them.


My heart speeds at the thought of the First Officer. He had gotten hurt during the initial attack by the aliens. Thank God, it hadn't been as bad as it could have been. I mean, I saw what those aliens could do to a human, how they could desiccate each and every cell in a body. When Chakotay got hurt, I literally felt my heart stop beating for a minute or two. I had to act quickly. Sickbay was not responding so I had to get Chakotay beamed off directly there, EMH or no EMH. Thank goodness the internal injuries had been minimal, and he recovered quickly.

I couldn't believe it when the Captain relieved him off duty during the ensuing conflict. She really had been acting weird ever since Captain Ransom's true intentions came out in the open. But to confine Chakotay to quarters, in the middle of battle, simply because he didn't approve of her course of action, and then to follow his advise anyway, was beyond weird. It was almost morbid. I wonder what goes on in the heads of commanding officers sometimes.

Yeah, I suppose Chakotay really has a lot to handle at the moment as it is. I honestly don't want to burden him any further by entangling him in my personal problems with our resident Klingon.

I am dead tired. I haven't slept in more than two days, and it doesn't seem likely that I am going to get any sleep anytime soon. My body protests at the lack of rest, but my mind is in turmoil. So many thoughts swirling around the haze set inside. Nothing makes sense. I am upset. It is expected, I guess.

Harry spent whatever free time he had, talking to me about my emotional problems, telling me it is alright to be upset. B'Elanna has cheated on me, sleeping with another man, with the enemy. I am bound to be shaken up, to be devastated, especially at the lack of remorse she has shown in the aftermath. Harry seems upset at her lack of concern for my well being. He feels that if she is not sorry for what she has done, there is little chance of the two of us getting back together.

But that is not what I am upset at.

It doesn't concern me as much that she doesn't feel sorry.

What concerns me to the core of my being is the fact that I don't feel sorry.

It is so frustrating. I think it would have been better if I had lashed out at her, if I had told her how much she has hurt my feelings. And my feelings have been hurt at some level. There is a sense of insult I feel at being cheated on with that smug, condescending bastard. Who cares if he is dead now. He had attacked Voyager. He, along with his Captain, was responsible for several deaths among our crew. They both deserved the deaths they got.

He was a murderer and this was the fact that made it even more insulting to me, knowing she cheated on me with that low piece of scum. If it had been someone more honorable, I might have understood. But, no, she had to go for an inferior specimen. Maxwell Burke was hardly someone worth ruining a relationship over.

And still I didn't scream at her. I, Thomas Eugene Paris, chief helmsman of USS Voyager, the best-goddamned pilot in the whole Delta Quadrant, got fucked over by my girlfriend, and I don't even have the emotion left in me to act properly agitated.

Harry thinks I am still in shock. He thinks that my mind has not yet accepted the fact of the matter. I would have liked to believe him if only the discord in my mind wouldn't keep pushing me in that same direction: one that pointed to the cause of my daily emotional turmoil on the bridge for the past five years.

If only what B'Elanna did to me had caused nothing but betrayal and intense devastating pain in my heart, the expected after-effects, rather than this morbid sense of relief it has left within my soul.

I'd better keep this bit of information to myself for the moment. I think Harry would probably think I have lost my mind.

I find I am on Deck 3 as my footsteps slow to a halt in front of a cabin door. Not mine. I reside on Deck 4. This is the Captain's deck. And Chakotay's, and Tuvok's. And these are Chakotay's quarters I find myself standing in front of. I frown at the doors. What the heck am I doing here? I thought I had already decided I was not going to bother my XO. And damn, it is way after midnight here. The Commander is getting his much needed sleep right now. He has been working as hard as, if not harder than, any other crewmember to get the ship back to maximum efficiency.

So why am I standing in front of the First Officer's quarters at 0210 in the morning, my hand on the side-panel, ready to press the chime? Dammit, what the hell am I doing? Maybe I really have lost my mind.

With the last of my restraint, the last of my control, I stop myself from pressing the chime. God, it's tempting, but I can't do it, can I? I shake my head. I don't think Chakotay would like being disturbed out of his sleep at this unholy hour. And besides, what would I say to him?

/---Uhh, Commander, sorry to disturb you, I honestly have no idea why I woke you up right now, but B'Elanna and I broke up two days back and I can't seem to get you out of my thoughts ever since. Say, is your skin really as smooth as it looks?---/

I snort. As nice as Chakotay is to everyone in the crew, and no matter how much headway I have made with him as a colleague and "friend" in the last five years, I still don't think he would appreciate such directness. I sigh as I turn away from the door and walk to the nearest turbolift.

I am still not in the mood to go back to my quarters, still not in the mood to try sleeping. I don't think its going to come naturally anyway. I don't know what my mind, my body wants, what sort of relief they seek. I do not want to go to the Doc for sleep medication just yet. I snort again as the turbolift door closes and I tell the computer which deck to go to. Alright, so I do know what relief my body seeks but I don't think Chakotay is willing at the moment.

He is not willing because he is not even aware of how I feel. And, as far as I am concerned, no one else will do anymore.

I step off the turbolift, as it halts at Deck 5, and make my way toward Observation Lounge 2. Maybe if I stare out the viewport, in quiet serenity, for the rest of the night, I might not look like a zombie at alpha shift tomorrow morning. A zombie who has walked the ship's corridors all through the graveyard hours.

It is really very quiet at this hour. Most of the crew is asleep, though some repair work is still going on in the lower decks at this moment, and these few upper decks are thankfully quiet. I don't think I can take much more noise after enduring B'Elanna's Klingon expletives for eight hours during the last alpha shift.

Reaching the Observation Lounge, I ease myself through the doors, and scramble to a stop right inside the twin doors. The lounge is not empty. I had expected it to be empty. I had hoped it would be empty. But there is one lone figure sitting by a darkened corner, staring out at the stars, just like I had planned to do.


It's funny how I had almost pressed the door chime at his quarters, just minutes ago, and then had decided not to disturb him. I wonder if I had pressed it and that had he not answered, since he wasn't inside, would I have done a location check on him? And if I had known he was here in the Observation Lounge, would I have come here looking for him, or would I have left him to his privacy here?

All of a sudden my heart has started hammering inside my chest. My mouth is dry too. I swallow convulsively. He usually has this effect on me. Sometimes when he is standing a little too close to me, I have trouble breathing, my hands get sweaty, and I have problem concentrating on my surroundings.

Maybe I should leave before I forget which deck I am on. He does that to me as well. Of course he doesn't know anything about this. I am pretty good at hiding my feelings. They don't call me flyboy for nothing. I am as cocky, as insolent as they come.

I wonder if he can tell it's just a facade.

I am about to turn around and silently walk out of the room, when I realize he hasn't even noticed me as yet. I wonder what's up with my quiet, observant First Officer. He is usually not so oblivious to his surroundings. I decide to stick around for a second or two and enjoy the view. I can just look him up, all nice and good, and leave before he notices. Besides, he appears to be asleep. He has his legs up on the black glass table in front of the couch he is sitting on, his arms folded across his chest, his head leaning back on the headrest, his eyes closed.

He makes good eye-candy.

I stare at his profile from this side angle. He is dressed all in black, though I can't see what kind of clothes they are, all I know is that they look wonderful on him. But, then again, he looks great in anything. Maybe it's just me. He could come out wearing the clown suit, and I would still be staring at him with this very thirst I am feeling at this moment. My mouth is dry again and I swallow audibly to clear the constriction I feel in my throat all of a sudden.

I am in Observation Lounge 2, I remind myself.

Observation Lounge 2 is located on Deck 5.

Very good, Tom. You get full points. Its time to get out of here now.

I spin around on my heels, hurriedly reaching for the door, and promptly bang into the Kalona plant pot sitting beside the door, knocking it to the floor with a loud clatter. Damn! How did I miss this on my way in? Gritting my teeth, I bend down to pick the plant up and ...


I stop in mid-movement, my ass sticking up in the air and that very realization brings a flow of blood rushing to my face. My ass sticking up in the air in front of him. After a moment of contemplation, reversing my movement, I straighten up. I sheepishly stare at the pot lying on the floor on its side, looking quite discarded among the mess of tangled leaves and branches, and a whole lot of dirt. I slowly turn around to face him.

"Hey Commander..."

Chakotay blinks at me. Swallowing, I wait for him to continue. He has turned to his side now and is facing me.

"What are you doing knocking things down around the ship at this time of the night?" He has an amused look on his face, his lips are turned up slightly, his eyes laughing. I can feel my breathing quicken.

"Actually I walked in and thought you were asleep. Didn't want to disturb you." I take a step back. "I was just leaving."

He blinks again, looks thoughtful for a moment, and then shakes his head. "That's okay, you weren't disturbing me." Then he looks down at the fallen plant and treats me to a full-blown smile complete with dimples, and I find myself smiling back at him. "Other than knocking Neelix' prized Kalona down, that is."

At this, still smiling, I once again bend down to pick up the fallen pot and this time finish the job, setting it up against the wall beside the doors, where it was supposed to be. I frown at the residue dirt left on the floor, wondering how to clean that up.

"What did you come here for, by the way?" Chakotay's query takes me out of my reverie.

I look at him, wondering if he is trying to pre-judge me like he does so often, but find only a wary, open expression. He is simply curious. I look at the viewport. "To look at the stars."

He leans back on the couch and faces the viewport himself. "Well, don't let me stop you."

I look at him, trying to decide what to do. Should I stay and risk acting like an idiot, as I always do, at such close proximity to the object of my emotional discord, as I have at this moment? Or should I choose a safer retreat, into the never-ending corridors of Starship Voyager, and end up looking like a zombie at the briefing this morning?

Hmm. I could always go back to my quarters. And lie awake in my bed the whole night, thinking about cheating girlfriends, delectable XO's, and lost opportunities.

Maybe I should go to the Doc and ask him for that sleeping aid after all. I could use some sleep.

"Stay awhile Tom, I don't bite..."

I jump a bit at this. He has not taken his eyes off the viewport, even at my sharp intake of breath as a response to his words. I take a tentative step forward.

"Umm... that..." I stammer, ".... that's not.. what it is....." I wet my lips with my tongue.

He cocks his head to one side and looks at me quizzically. "What is it, Tom?" All of a sudden, he has that look on his face, as he gestures to one of the chairs in front of the couch. "Sit down."

Uh Oh. Counselor alert.

I mentally shake my head. This is not what I am looking for right now. I really should have gone before he noticed my presence. Can I still get out? Maybe I can just run away and hide in my quarters and pretend I never came here. And if he comes after me, or comms me, I can act drunk perhaps? Would he fall for it? Hmm... Doesn't seem likely, judging from the expression on his face. He seems like he's waiting for an answer from me.

I sigh as I walk to the chair he had pointed at, and sit down. Don't look at him, I say to myself. There, look out the viewport. See? Such nice stars we are passing by.

"Tom, are you alright?"

God, he's adamant, if his tone can tell me anything. I turn my face toward him, and realize that I finally have a full view of what he's wearing. Close fitting black cotton tee-shirt, stretched languidly against a taut, well-muscled torso, tucked inside pants, also black, that fit snugly to his long, strong, and equally well-muscled legs.

Like I said, good eye-candy.

I think of my own way too casual blue button down shirt, and brown and red patterned bermudas, and feel more than a little shaggy compared to him.

It occurs to me that I am staring at him, because he's trying to catch my attention again, in what I would call an assertive tone.


Oh boy. He's switching from Counselor to Commander mode now. I am not sure which is worse at 0230 in the morning.

"Chakotay, sorry, I am a little distracted right now." I flash him a weak smile, hoping it doesn't come out too forced. I suddenly notice the shadows under his eyes. Damn, he looks beat. I can't believe I didn't notice this before. He has been working awfully hard lately. The recent adventures with the Equinox have left all of us shaken and the Commander is apparently no less affected.

If not more.

He is leaning forward in his seat now, concern etched in his brow. "You are tired, Tom. I can't believe it didn't occur to me before, since I do fix the duty rosters, but you have been on duty continuously for the past 24 hours. Wat the hell are you doing up right now? You should be in bed, sleeping, so that you can be ready and fresh for alpha shift tomorrow."

This is kind of funny. He is saying the same thing, which I am thinking about him, to me.

I give him a half-grin. "You're kidding, right?"

He frowns at this. "No, not at all, Tom, you have been working too hard and for too long. You obviously need rest."

"So do you."

He blinks. Ah. Surprised, are we? Well, he recovers quickly. "I am doing fine." He deadpans.

Well, two can play the same game, Commander. "You should be in bed, getting some much needed sleep, Chakotay!"

"We are talking about you, Tom!" He insists, his left eyebrow quirking up.

I chuckle slightly at this. "No, you are talking about me. I am talking about you!"

That brings out a smile on those lush lips, if only for a couple of seconds, before Counselor Chakotay kicks into gear again. "Are you having trouble sleeping? You should have gone to the Doctor, and asked for some sleeping aid."

"Funny I was about to suggest the very same thing to you, Commander."

Sighing heavily, he ignores my remark. His right hand moves up to his chin, the index finger reaching out to slowly run across his bottom lip. Entranced, I follow this movement with my eyes, silently.

I stifle a sigh at the sight, suddenly feeling lightheaded.

He drops his eyes to the table for a second or two, looking thoughtful again, then once more brings them up to my face.

"Tom, I know its none of my business but," Uh Oh. "are you having any personal problems?"

It's my turn to blink at him now. I wonder how much he knows. Would B'Elanna have told him? It seems highly unlikely, but B'Elanna does trust him more than anyone else on the ship, so who knows what she talks to him about? Maybe she told him she slept with his counterpart from the Equinox, and was stupid enough to get caught by little ol' me, and now I have dumped her. Or perhaps she said she dumped me. Yeah, maybe it is me who got dumped. After all, it is me who got fucked over.

Maybe Chakotay thinks I am now devastatingly heartbroken, and that is the reason why I am walking through the ship's corridors like a zombie, and that is the reason why I can't seem to go to sleep.

Maybe Chakotay thinks the breakup has turned me into an emotional wreck. Perhaps I need psychological counseling too?

It suddenly occurs to me that during my brooding I neglected to shut my mouth, my jaw just about touching my chest, and went on gaping at my First Officer. Must be quite a scene, because now Chakotay looks seriously agitated.

"Tom, I want you to know that if you need to talk about anything, you can talk to me. You can treat me as a sentient wall, I don't mind."

This is just great. I can't fucking believe she told him. I am thoroughly miffed.

"And when you are having personal problems, Chakotay, who do you talk to?"

I can tell he is taken aback. He gets this guarded look on his face. Good, serves them right.

"As the First Officer of this ship," Here we go again, "it is my duty to make sure that all personnel, especially senior bridge officers who have much more daunting tasks to perform then the average crewman, are emotionally sound, and to look out for their well-being."

I know I should take a deep breath here and think about what he is saying, but my mouth has other ideas.

"And who looks out for your well-being, the Captain?"

I had no idea that, with his darker complexion he was capable of turning so red, but I see it happening right now. He actually flushes a deep red and the expression on his face changes from concern to sudden rage. I can see him gritting his teeth, as he bites back a response and takes a deep breath, visibly trying to calm himself.

Damn. Wrong thing to say. I really should think twice before running off with Mr. Mouth. Mr. Mouth has a bad reputation around the galaxy for a reason. Although, I don't think I am that bad half the time. But tell that to Chakotay. He seems ready to burst into flames.

Whatever happened between the Captain and him must be more serious than I had thought at first.

I take a deep breath.

"I am sorry, alright? I am just really upset at things right now and I don't think I am thinking straight at the moment."

God, this is frustrating. I really do not want to make him mad at me. Not this time. This is not a game. This is no ruse. This is not me rankling the stoic First Officer for kicks. I don't have time for such kicks. I don't have that energy. I am feeling emotionally depleted at this moment and I don't want to ruffle his feathers anymore. If there is anything I want to do right now is to make peace with him.

Because making peace with this man would be tantamount to making peace with myself.

"What do you mean?" He is asking me again. I mentally shrug and attempt to focus on what he is saying. Oh yes. He is asking about what I meant by my agitated outburst of moments ago. Apparently it helped dissipate some of his anger, since he is clearly coming back to the counselor routine.

Man, doesn't he ever quit?

I sigh. Do I even want him to quit?

"Oh, you know, because of my breakup with B'Elanna." It's the half-truth. My problem doesn't transcend from my breakup with B'Elanna. I rather think the breakup transcended from something else. Not that I initiated the breakup. It was clearly B'Elanna who took that step, falling in bed with her old beau, the first night he came onboard Voyager.

But what of this strife within my heart, these one-sided unresolved issues that entangle me with this enigmatic man, which has me fidgeting at the conn for the past five years? Could it be that unconsciously I sent B'Elanna some unspoken message which made it easier for her to fuck me over?

After all, it is making it easier for me to get over her, is it not? For just a moment, I feel a pang of something bleak and slightly forlorn tug at my heart, and then its gone. Hmm...What was that? Feeling guilty, helmboy?

I notice Chakotay frowning at me again. Now what?

"Breakup?" He asks incredulously. "B'Elanna and you broke up? When, Tom?"

Wonderful. He hadn't known. She hadn't told him. And I just did. /---You Idiot!---/ I chide myself. Now what the heck do I do about this returning expression of deep concern on Chakotay's face? Here's he's sitting looking so absolutely scrumptious, and yet he keeps returning with this counselor routine of his, while all I want to do is... Oh shit! While all I want to do is tear these tight pants off his legs and nibble my way up his muscular thighs and ...

/---Back off, Tom!---/ I can hear warning klaxons blaring in my fuzzy brain now and force my train of forbidden thought to come to a screeching halt. What the hell am I doing? I am not supposed to start thinking this way. I just broke up with B'Elanna two days back and it's way too soon.

Yes, too soon to start thinking of my XO in this light. Can't allow that to happen, can I?

I feel a little like laughing.

Allow? I use that word as if these feelings are really in my control. How the hell does one start, from anew, something that is already in progress? Because there never was a day, since we got thrown into the Delta Quadrant, when I didn't think of him in this way.

So now what the heck do I do about the way my heart is beating so hard, it feels like it'll come out of my chest? I never did feel this out of control before. Even when I was working by his side, so many times during these years, all by myself, I never felt like this. What is happening to me now?

It's as if, just for a moment, I can watch myself from outside my body, hear myself talk from another's point of hearing, listen to me making mistakes, knowing I am probably going to fuck everything up, and yet am unable to help myself. Why now? Is it because of the breakup? Is it because I haven't slept in two fucking days? Yeah, must be the lack of sleep that is doing this to me.

Why is it that every breath he takes, the air he exhales, my eyes linger on his heaving chest, his fluttering eyelids, his convulsing throat, and his quivering lips.


He seems really distraught now. Oh I remember. He asked me a question, something about the breakup, and I forgot all about it. He is concerned about me. He probably wants to know if there is anyway that he can help me. He lifts his left hand and moves it towards me, and I watch as he places it on my right thigh, tentatively, and opens his mouth to speak. I barely hear him. My attention span is way short at the moment, in fact as of this second, it is simply concentrated on that large brown hand lightly clasping my thigh, as the shot nerves on that thigh send a new signal, like an electric current, straight to my cock. My eyes widen. Oh no.

"Tom, what's wrong?" His voice sounds softer, his lips more moist, his eyes darker, and his smell muskier than usual. It's as if all my senses are sharper now than they normally are. Like an animal, I can hear, see, smell better than I ever did before, and the feeling is clinging onto my senses.

I feel my cock harden, and all of a sudden, I can't take it anymore.

He flinches a little in surprise as I abruptly stand up and move off to the viewport, my back toward him. I am breathing heavily now, because I just have to calm my nerves somehow. I just have to quell myself because Chakotay has no idea what he does to me, what he is doing to me.

I hear the creak of the spring on the couch seat he was sitting on released as he gets up, the slight rustle of fabric as he apparently moves towards me. I hold my breath as I hear the one breathing behind me.

"Tom?" I hear the question, the confusion in his voice.

"It's alright," Calm down Tom. "I am fine, Chakotay!"

"Are you?" I can feel his breath on the back of my ear, he is that close, the sound of his gentle voice reverberating in my ear-drums, traveling down my spine, its target and purpose one. I clench my hands at the sensation.

"Yeah," My voice is shaking as I struggle to remember something. A name. Yes, B'Elanna. "B'Elanna... and I broke up but its okay." Calm down, Tom, calm down.

"Tom, I am sorry, I shouldn't have brought this up." Now he is in repentance. " I had no idea."

"That's okay, Chakotay, I am not really upset about all that."

What? Am I really supposed to tell him this? Now he'll want to know what I am actually upset about. But Dammit, I don't want to make him feel sorry about B'Elanna. I really don't. But what the hell do I want?

I still face the viewport, my back to him.

"Then what are you upset about, Tom?" I freeze for a moment as his hand, probably the same one, touches the small of my back. Oh yes, I like that just fine, I decide, as my body responds to that light touch and I arch back into his hand. I think my doing that startles him a bit, as he withdraws that hand just as quickly. That, and the deftness with which I swing around to face him.

/---Oh Chakotay, what you do to me---/

He is standing close, a puzzled expression in those beautiful, brown eyes. My throat is dry and I moisten my parched lips, to make it easier to say something, anything, and gulp as I catch him looking down at my tongue slowly running over my parted lips, and I forget to breathe.

It couldn't be, could it? Someone please tell me, his eyes didn't linger on my lips, and that I didn't hear a catch in his breathing just now. I couldn't have, could I? But oh God, yes, I did. I know I did because he is flushing a deep pink now, as he realizes what he was doing, and looks away from my face, down at the floor, out the viewport, anywhere but at my face.

He attempts to take a step or two back, but I am no longer aware of my own actions. All I know is how he looks so beautiful when unsure, and how his adam's apple bobs as he swallows heavily against a constriction in his throat not unlike my own. All I can smell is his earthy, heady scent, as my arms move off their own volition and encircle his waist, gathering him in my arms.

I watch his eyes widen as the comprehension of what he does to me finally hits him, and he tries to veer off my grip, but I have the element of surprise to my advantage. I grasp his biceps and turn him around so fast, he doesn't know what hit him, until his back is firmly pressed against the viewport, his wide, powerful body caught between me and the window.

At this point, he is reminded of who he is, and who I am, as he notices the look that is probably on my face, and he tries to push me away, his mind apparently more in control of making coherent thoughts at this point than I am.

"Ensign," Ah, I knew he would try to pull rank, "Move!" He orders, but I'll be damned if his eyes aren't slightly dilated, his voice just a notch below its usual calm tranquility. As I watch doubts play across his flushed features, I simply decide to drive the message home once and for all.

I slip my hands from his biceps to his wrists and pull his arms up, so that his hands are pressed to the window on both sides of his head. When he starts to struggle, I put one knee between his thighs, pull his legs apart and pressing closer, grind my hips into his groin. I am rock hard at this point and the contact automatically forces a groan out of his mouth.

"Tom..." He gasps, a one last half-hearted attempt at protest, and who the heck am I to let go of this opportunity. Moving even closer, I open my mouth and claim his lips with my own, my tongue darting in his mouth, opened in protest. Ah, such sweet protest, that heat, that taste, those soft lips opening and closing around my invading tongue, an involuntary moan reverberating out of his mouth and into mine, as I relish the heady aroma of his sweat and silken skin.

I slip my arms around his hips, my palms cupping his buttocks, as my fingers dig into the flesh of his firm ass-cheeks through the fabric, my mouth plundering his hot sweetness. The groan that escapes his mouth is intoxicating, as I bite into his lower lip, his taste wonderfully appetizing. With one more suck, I let go of his delicious mouth, and lick my way to his cheeks, lapping furiously, as he can't help but buck his now semi-hardened groin into mine.

His breathing is ragged, his eyes shut tightly, and he grunts desperately as my fingers move from his ass to the hem of his tucked in tee-shirt, digging into the belt-line, pulling the tee-shirt out of the pants. My hands slid inside, one resting on the small of his back, supporting his weight, as the fingers on the other probe the hot skin of his now exposed, taut belly, playing with the little nub of his belly-button.

My tongue continues the tactile exploration of his face, licking in a non-breaking random pattern from the cheeks, down to the chin, up to the nose, to his tattoo, then sideways, to his right ear, lightly nibbling on the lobe, his moans continuous and as intoxicating as ever.

"Unhh............ Tom..." he arches his neck, as my teeth graze the hollow of his neck, my tongue bathing his skin with my saliva, and gasps as I bite at his right shoulder blade. I, then, kiss and lick the spot I have bitten at, and direct my laving tongue to his face again, inhaling his salt musk.


"Shhhh..." I move to his left earlobe whispering into his ear, and much to my satisfaction, feel him shiver as I dip my tongue inside.

"Unhhh... Tom.."

Dammit, don't talk! Don't talk! I am pulling his tee-shirt up his writhing body now, I have to touch all of his skin, I have to taste him everywhere. I run my hands on his sides, feeling his muscles ripple under my touch, his strength vibrating under my fingers, and I feel myself drown in the sensations.

"Tom...." No, don't talk. "Tom...." He is adamant. What the heck does he want to say?


Just one word, one question. I freeze for a moment at that, and look at his face. His eyes are glazed, trying desperately to focus, his expression a combination of conflict, confusion and unbridled lust. He is disturbed and upset and unsure, and its time I take all that confusion away from him. I move my hands from his waist to his face, my fingers caress his cheeks, my thumb running gently across his beautifully carved lips, as I rub my nose to his, and whisper softly.

"B'Elanna is not an issue, Cha. She never was."

And I cup his chin with my right hand, my other hand moving to the back of his neck, as I tip his face and stop any arising queries with my mouth closing over his. The slight frown of discontent is removed from his brow, as I open my mouth wider to run my tongue across the cleft on his chin, then zigzagging back to capture his lower lip between my teeth, making him moan.

This time the kiss is welcomed, as his tongue snakes out to fence with mine, and seeks entry into my mouth, which is eagerly bestowed. His strong arms wrap around my back, as his large hands squeeze my ass, pulling me tightly against him, the evidence of his arousal brushing against my own, through our clothes.

I am now lowering him to the floor, my fingers pulling his bunched up tee-shirt finally off his sculptured torso, my nails teasingly scraping over every revealed inch of flesh. His eyes fly open as I growl at the computer to engage a personal privacy lock, and he finds himself sitting on the floor, his back pressed to the wall, as I hover above him. Before I can pull his entire length flat on the carpet, he pauses me with a hand on my chest.

"Not on the floor." There's a glint in his eyes, a grin fighting to emerge on that beautiful face. "I am not too partial to rug burns, Tom" and with that he grabs my hand and gives me a push back. I can't stop a wide grin from splitting my face in half, as sudden relief floods my veins. He wants this. He wants this as much I do.

I get up, pulling him to his feet, and envelop him in my arms, kissing his eyes, his nose, his cheeks, his chin, tasting him all over his face. He closes his eyes as my fingers find his straight dark hair, slick with sweat, clinging to his forehead. I gently push them off his tattoo, swiping them back in place, my fingers lingering on his scalp, as he sighs, his nose nuzzling my hand, and places a soppy kiss on my palm.

I am turning around now, still keeping him in my arms, and walking him backwards until his back touches the backrest of another couch. He looks at me with an amused look on his face, a question in his eyes. I give him a sly grin, as I push him over the backrest of the said couch, his eyes widen as he falls backward, landing on the seat in his upside down position, me on top of him, his drop gentled with my arms supporting him.

"Umm... Tom..." He looks cute, confused.

"Yes, Cha?" I smile some more.

"We're upside down."

I run my hands firmly and surely from his shoulders to his ass, and squeeze him, and with a gasp, he opens his legs and straddles me. "Hardly, Cha." I lean down and kiss his neck, my fingers fumbling with the buttons at the opening of his pants. He grins at me, his own hands moving to the buttons at my shirt, and after opening the top three buttons, slides his warm fingers inside. Moaning, I arch my back at that, reaching into his touch, as his fingernails lovingly scrape my skin, sending sparks down my body.

"We'll fall down." He laughs breathlessly, the sound so beautiful and enchanting that I can't breathe for a second or two, myself. Sprawled down on the couch under me, he makes a picturesque sight.

"No, we won't." I grin, my hands still trying to open his pants' buttons and he suddenly yanks my shirt open, sending buttons flying all over the place and digs his fingers into my sparse chest hair. Oh God, his hands. The spark is turning into a full blaze now. My whole body is on fire.

"Unnhh..." I moan and really stop breathing, when his fingers tug at my nipples, raking those short nails over and around the areola, as I groan and rub my hard crotch against his thigh. He cranes his neck to reach my forehead with his long tongue, lapping at and dipping it into my hair. My hair.

"God, you're kinky." I laugh, as his tongue bathes my scalp with saliva and he tugs at my short hair with his teeth.

He grins, helping to pull my shirt off my shoulders. "You've got me upside down. I act weird when I am upside down."

My fingers finally figure out his pants' buttons and I yank them open with much enthusiasm, leering down at him. "Now, lets get these off you." I slip my fingers into the belt-line, and start to ease them off his hips. He gasps as my fingers slide over his shorts-covered groin, his quivering naked thighs, my thumb stroking the insides of them, and he writhes and moans under me, sliding further down the couch, partially landing on the carpet.

"I told you, we'd fall." He mock-frowns after he catches his breath, his shoulders now set on the carpet, his lower half still up on the couch. I, too, have slithered down the couch and am now contently settled on top of him. I sigh as I straighten my legs into a sitting position and holding his hands, help him sit up.

"What, no more upside down stunts?" He quirks his eyebrows at me, grinning, as I lead him to settle down on the same couch, this time in a sitting position.

As an answer, I push him flat, lengthwise, on the seat. "You look good on your back." I smirk at him, kicking off my own shoes and pulling at his moccasins, and his pants, which have gathered around his knees and he straightens his legs, kicking them all off.

"You think so?" His eyes are laughing, his tone mocking, his demeanor too humorous for my liking. So, pushing his thighs apart with my knees, I settle down between them, crotch to crotch, and deliberately rub my screaming erection to his growing one, hearing him gasp, as my hands crawl under his body to cling to his firm ass.

He doesn't appear to have an ounce of flab, I realize, as my fingers dig their way back to the front, teasing him between his muscled thighs, feeling him shiver. My tongue explores his face, licking a path from his lips to his chin, as I place small, moist kisses along the side of his face, lightly nibbling on his earlobe. As I reach his groin, and slowly, excruciatingly, trace the outline of his erection trapped under his white briefs, he stops talking completely.

A deep groan escapes his throat, as my fingers take their time exploring his twitching, growing length, and I reach down to capture his mouth with mine in a searing kiss. I leisurely stroke his thickness through the fabric a few times more, relishing his moans of helpless passion into my mouth, until he is reduced to a writhing, whimpering mass under my hands.

Sliding further down his body, I pay tribute to that smooth, broad chest, nuzzling into his skin, inhaling his musk scent, and lapping out to savor his salt taste. His moans are making me turn even harder, if that could be possible. Each touch from my lips, the tips of my fingers, my tongue, and he moans so exquisitely that my cock jumps inside my shorts.

As I latch onto one of his dark, flat nipples with my lips, he bucks so hard he nearly kicks me off of him. I hold his flailing arms with my hands, as I tug at his nipple with my teeth, running my tongue around it in a circle, kissing and sucking at it, feeling it harden between my teeth, and relishing his helpless groans. I, then, move onto his other nipple and give it the same treatment, loving and laving it with the same tenderness.

I move my ministrations further down his hard body, my tongue exploring every inch, every crevice of his abdomen, dipping into his navel, my hands digging into his ass-cheeks, as my fingers scrape the edges of the last piece of garment he wears.

Slowly I slide his briefs down his hips and watch in wonderment as his beautiful, thick cock springs out of the finally released confinement, to stand at attention right under my nose. My mouth waters, as the strong scent of his sex fills my nostrils, and I lick my lips in anticipation, my own cock twitching frantically at the sight and smell of Chakotay.

Winding my arms around his twitching thighs, I pull his legs further apart, as I nuzzle into his groin, intoxicated by his aroma. Not able to hold off anymore, I dart my tongue out to tease his heavy balls with a lazy long swipe, and suck one of his balls inside my mouth. Twirling my tongue around the velvety mound, I smile at his desperate grunts, as my nose nuzzles his large, pulsating cock. He is going out of control now, his legs shaking, his whole body writhing, and his moans deeper, more guttural than before.

"Unhhh Tom,.... Ohhhhh Tom..." He is unable to stop moaning, a continuous mantra of my name on his lips, as I bestow the same treatment to his other ball.

Now I am tracing the firmness of his ass with my fingers, pulling his cheeks apart, as my fingers probe his most private opening, my tongue lapping at the base of his cock. In one lazy sweep of my tongue, I trace the whole length of his steel-hard cock, from the pulsing base to the sensitive head, and am treated to another heart-wrenchingly-beautiful moan. I run my tongue down the length now, and back up again, inhaling his essence, as his moans turn into near-sobs, his whole body shuddering through the sensations my actions no doubt send through his bones.

"Please Tom...... unhhhhhh Tom....." He pleads, his needy moans music to my ears, so I relent. Wrapping my mouth around the girth of his thick erection, my tongue teasing the throbbing vein, I move up the length until my lips touch the velvety head, and my tongue snakes out to lick off that glistening drop of pre-cum leaking out of the slit. Hmm. Tastes a little salty and a little sweet. Nice. Covering the head of his cock with my lips, I tease the slit with my insistent tongue as he bucks and heaves. And when, without warning, I open my mouth wider and take his whole length inside, his sensuous moan is a half-sob, half-scream that is pleasure in itself to behold.

My mouth wrapped around the silken-steel of his long, hot cock, I start a rhythmic pattern here, as I bob my head up and down the throbbing length, the thickness deliciously filling the insides of my mouth. As his most intimate taste breaks onto my taste-buds, and his spicy scent assaults my senses, I hazard a look at his face, and am more than pleased to note his tightly shut eyes, his sweat-soaked flushed skin, his mouth opening and closing in panting gasps.

His big hands reach out blindly to settle on my head, holding it in place, his blunt fingers sliding in my curls, as his hips start thrusting into my eager mouth, matching the rhythm of my bobbing head. I move my left hand from under his body and reach out to brush my fingers over his chest, as I rake my right hand's index finger against the rim of his anus, and he snaps opens his glazed brown eyes, looking into my blue ones.

I take a deep breath as I relax my throat infinitesimally, touch my fingers to his right nipple, and the index finger on my right hand zeroes in on that tight ring of muscle at his anus. Keeping our eyes locked, in one swift movement, I swallow Chakotay's whole length deeper inside my throat, as I twist that small nipple with one hand and my right hand's index finger plunges inside his tight hole.

My throat muscles spasming and tightening around his cock, he comes with an earsplitting roar, his cock jolting and pulsing, jetting his hot semen into the depths of my throat, as his whole body bucks and writhes, and I hungrily swallow spurt after spurt of his fervid sperm.

For what seems like hours, but couldn't be more than mere minutes, I suck and pull at his thrashing cock, until he has spent all his spicy essence into my mouth, his spasms subsiding, his shudders fading. And even then I do not let go of him, as I tenderly run my tongue over and around him, licking him clean, both my hands now gently running over his abdomen, soothing and assuaging him.

He probably thinks that I have an evil plan of draining him through his cock with one blow job after another, as after a little while, I feel his softening cock give a jerk of revival inside my mouth, and he lets out a long moan of resignation. He can also probably feel me grinning around the mouthful of his once-again-hardening flesh, since he twines his strong fingers around my damp locks and gives a none-too-gentle tug.

"Tommmmmmm..........." His admonish is pure sensuality, and I could tease him some more, but hey, maybe I should give the guy a little break. After all, he is my superior officer.

So, finally, letting his utterly spent, but really close to new revival, cock slip out of my mouth, I kiss it on the sensitive head, kiss the insides of his thighs, and holding his waist in my hands, I scoot up his body. Lying face to face, I wrap my arms around his pliant, satiated form, and kiss him gingerly on his open mouth, feeling his own strong arms coming around me in a tight embrace.

His tongue coils out of his mouth and dips into mine as he deepens the kiss, undoubtedly tasting his own essence in my mouth, and sighs in contentment. I run my hands over the hard muscles on his back, his whole body now unbelievably lithe with post-coital rapture.

I can almost feel the blissful humming of content in his veins, as he relaxes even further into the kiss, so imagine my surprise when he ends the sweet, breathtaking kiss with his mouth tugging at my lower lip and his teeth closing in a swift, sharp bite. Fluttering my eyes in stupefaction, I gasp as he tugs even harder but before I can dwell further in bewilderment, his low growl of "Take these fucking shorts off" answers my query.

Grinning, I realize, I am still wearing my shorts and my heavy erection tenting the fabric is apparently driving Chakotay crazy. I am personally pretty amazed at my staying power. I never was so resilient before. Must be the company.

My grin fades as Chakotay pulls the bermudas down my hips, and grabs my cock in a death grip, making me gasp.

"Well now, what have we got here?" He smirks as he pulls the shorts completely off my legs in one fast tug, his fingers stroking my hard length, and I lose all ability to form complete sentences.

"Oh... Cha..... ohh....." I am so fucking hard that I feel I would come any second, if he doesn't stop what he is doing. But oh God, it feels so good...... it feels so good.

"Oh Cha, I can't..... I can't stop...... you gotta..... Oh please, I am gonna come." I am pleading with him, but he captures my mouth in an impassioned kiss as his tongue invades my mouth and I can't speak anymore. His lips suck my tongue into his mouth, wrenching another moan from me, and I am left breathless and reeling. But the kiss is short and sweet, and as our lips part, he nuzzles my neck, and whispers in my ears,

"Fuck me, Tom."

Oh Christ, these words send a jolt down my spine, and my cock .... well, my cock would have jumped, had it not been held in the strong grip of those large, able hands.

"We have no lube." I say breathlessly. God, I want to fuck him so bad and I have been hard for what feels like hours, so I might simply erupt just by his deliberate stroking. But damn, I want to imbed my cock in his beautiful, willing body and pound into him so hard that he forgets his own name.

Chakotay is now smiling at me lasciviously. "Oh, we don't?" The look on his face, as he pushes me flat on the couch, is pure mischief. And before I can do much about anything, he is shifting down over and pulling my legs apart with his free hand, settles over my groin, as his right hand holds my cock in its death-grip. Brushing his thumb against my scrotum, he murmurs, "We can make our own lube, babe." and wraps his lips around my leaking erection.

I feel ecstatic, delirious, and can't help but sob in rapture at the delicious sensation of being sucked inside his moist, hot mouth, his teasing tongue running over me in long, sure strokes. The feeling is almost too much to take, but he is gripping my erection at the base in such a way that it slightly impedes the blood flow to my cock and I am simply unable to ejaculate. Though, watching and feeling him lick at my length, his tongue swirling around in fast, crazy circles, is absolutely maddening, and I am continuously moaning as he bathes my thickness in his saliva.

Natural lube. Good ol' resourceful Chakotay. I should have known.

After a few more strokes of his tongue around my cock, which leaves it glistening with his saliva, he lets it slip out of his mouth and leans over to kiss me lightly on my mouth, just enough to let me taste myself on his tongue, and whispers,

"Now, fuck me, Tom..."

I can feel his hardening cock pressing against my stomach, and I smile my most seductive smile as I grab his waist and twist him around until he is flat on his stomach. Running my hands over his broad back, I reach his ass and as I gently pull his cheeks apart, I declare,

"Gladly," And press my tongue along the rim of his anus, lapping at the parting of the ass-cheeks, my tongue teasing his tight opening, as all of a sudden, he is putty in my hands again, shuddering and moaning and bucking under my grip.

"Oh Tom...... Unhhh Tom..... fuck me, Tom." His moans are deep and guttural and I am petting his back, trying to calm him down, cooing soothing words of reassurance. I take my index finger inside my mouth, soaking it with my saliva and reach for his opening with the glistening digit.

"Shhh...... Relax, Cha......" I murmur as I gently stroke the tight ring of muscle with my finger. "I am going to prepare you now, so just take a deep breath and relax." And stroking his smooth ass cheeks with one hand, I slowly push my finger into his tight hole. He gasps as my finger breaches his opening, and I can feel his anal muscles tightening and clenching around the invading intruder. "Just relax." I mutter as I push the finger deeper inside, moving it around the opening, willing him to loosen up, to trust me.

When that single finger has done all it could, I slowly pull it out and this time moisten two fingers with my saliva, and again reach for his sphincter. Carefully pushing both of them inside, I loosen the muscles the best I can, and as I am gently twisting them around inside his tight channel, I scrape across his prostate, and almost come undone at his tumultuous scream of ecstasy. Ah, the hot button, I smile, as his moans become long and needy. Taking both the fingers out, I wet three of them with my saliva and continue to prepare his muscle, until he can't take it anymore.

"Fuck me, Tom..." He growls. "Fuck me, now!"

And I realize I can't take it anymore either.

So I shift up his body, until my groin is aligned with his ass, my jutting cock touching his tight hole, as I hold his hips in my hands, and slowly, exquisitely tip the head of my cock inside his sphincter. His instant reaction is a loud gasp, then a slow sigh, as he leans over, his elbows on the couch seat, and pushes his ass backward, indicating I continue. Oh yes, he is very much ready.

Running my hands across the smooth skin of the sides of his abdomen, I gentle my way inside his tight hole, but I immediately find out that he doesn't quite agree with my gentleness. Because, reaching behind himself, he suddenly grabs my thighs with his hands and, without warning, plunges back onto my cock, instantly impaling himself, and I hear a loud scream ringing in my ears.

After a moment or two, as I catch my breath, I realize the scream was mine, and that I am now imbedded deep inside the beautiful, brown butt of my XO and this night has certainly turned out to be very interesting. The first sensations to hit me are that how tight he is, and how hot he is, and how incredible he feels and how I love being buried inside his body.

"Move, Tom......" He is groaning but its not a plea, its an order, because he is wiggling his ass, urging me to move, to pound, to drive into him. And I comply. Holding his hips with my hands, I slowly pull out of his tightness, and then plunge back in, as he thrusts back at me, meeting me half-way, moving to the same rhythm. I am lost in the sensations, his hot channel sheathing me, the muscles of his anus tightening and opening around me, his growls matching my own helpless groans, as we both move in long, slow strokes.


And I reach out to twine my fingers with the fingers of his outstretched hands, as I increase the pace of my thrusts, angling my drives so that I scrape across his hot button, and he sobs wantonly. Again and again, I piston in and out of his tight channel, loving his heat, his tightness, as he thrusts back at me with reckless abandon.

Every time I pull out almost completely and then plunge back all the way, until my balls slap heavily against his ass-cheeks, and his squeezing ass-muscles milk my cock, making me whimper, bringing me closer and closer to my eventual release. And I reach around to find his cock throbbing and pulsing, and wrap my fingers around him, making him shudder, as I start to pump his thickness, hearing him moan.

It doesn't take much long this time. He is ready and I am more than ready. I am actually feeling very light-headed by now, so when after a few more strokes of my hand to his cock I feel him shudder, I am literally bracing for impact. And then, he is coming in my hands, his whole body writhing under my weight, as spurts of his hot semen hit my hand, hit his chest, and he is screaming and moaning and thrashing under me.

And it's a chain reaction. His orgasm results in the delicious tightening of his ass-muscles, as my cock is pumped and wrung inside his tightness, and with a roar I am coming, my cock emptying my sperm inside his hot channel, pouring into his belly. I slam into him harder and harder, again and again, until I am utterly spent, thoroughly satiated and deliciously exhausted, and as my bones turn to contended slush, I collapse onto his limber form, wrapping him in my arms.

For a while there is blessed blackness. And then as I come to, I find myself lying atop my thoroughly fucked First Officer, my arms and legs wrapped around him, my fingers playing with his nipples. As he sighs in contentment, I place a soft kiss on his shoulder, on his neck, under his right ear, slipping out of him, as he turns around and hugs me back, kissing me on my lips, my face. He looks so completely satiated, his eyes half-closed in bliss, his face flushed and his dark hair clinging to his forehead in damp, slick strands. He is gorgeous like this, and the sight of him leaves me breathless.

"You're beautiful, Tom." I can't help but smile at that. I nuzzle his neck, kissing his fluttering pulse and murmur,

"So are you, Cha..."

And that is all either of us can say for now. Settling down in each other's arms, our legs entwined, we will ourselves to relax, as exhaustion takes over our senses, and we fall asleep.

Well, sort of.

It is strange how sexual contentment can make one forget small, pertinent details.

We have forgotten that we fucked, no - we made love, on a couch in Observation Lounge 2.

We have forgotten that we are now lying in each other' arms on top of that same couch.

We have forgotten that Observation Lounge is a public place, not our personal private domain.

Or maybe we haven't forgotten. Perhaps it just slipped from our well-fucked minds. For it is only a few minutes later, I think, that I find myself being shaken by the large, gentle hands of my new lover.

"The door, Tom... Someone's at the door." Chakotay's voice is urgent, and it snaps me awake from my short snooze. And then I hear the chime. Ah, the privacy lock. Yes, of course, I had engaged my personal privacy lock on the door. Something that even Chakotay couldn't override, not that he would want to at the moment. We are both buck-naked and my arms are wound tightly around him, hindering his movement.

The chime sounds again, and it sounds insistent, and we are both scrambling up from the couch, reaching for our discarded clothing and as the chirping at the door changes its tone, I know we are too late.

The door swishes open. We both freeze and look up at the shocked face of the lone intruder.


Her first reaction is a strangled gasp.

And then, her eyes bugging out with shock, she starts talking too fast, babbling. "The door, Tom, it wouldn't open... and I wanted to.... You didn't answer your comm, I thought,... I tried to..."

And her sentence trails down into nothingness just as fast as it began, the expression on her face changing from shock to something else.


I hate her at this moment.

Shock, I can take. Shock, I can even enjoy. And boy, did I enjoy it or what? That expression of sweet, stunned bewilderment, of dumbfounded incredulity on her face, gave me a very contended feeling. It felt as if I had scored a battle against her. It was like a small victory against her cold attitude of the past two days. It almost felt like sweet payback.

But, betrayal? Where the hell does that come from? Who the hell does she think she is, acting betrayed in front of me? She is the one who betrayed me. She cheated on me, fucked me over, slapped me on the face, and now she is standing in front of me with this pathetic expression, which screams "I-was-unfairly-cheated-and-screwed", written all over her face?

I feel like screaming at her. But instead, I feel my cocky facade slip into place, as a smirk creeps on my face and I drawl out,

"Why, B'Elanna, was there something important you wanted to say to me?"

She recoils from my words as if hit. Looking hurt and confused, almost like a wounded puppy, she turns her eyes from my face to look at Chakotay, spearing him with the same look of utter betrayal.

I want to actually hit her now. How dare she drag Chakotay into this? This is between her and me. Chakotay had nothing to do with what happened between us. At least, not to his knowledge.

But she is turning away from both of us now and visibly gritting her canines, she throws a one last look of contempt in my direction, and chewing out every syllable, hisses,

"I'll talk to you later." And walks out of the door.

Ahh, I take a deep breath, I guess I'll have to deal with that later. With a small, embarrassed smile on my face, I turn towards Chakotay.

And halt at the expression on his face.

He is not looking at me. His eyes are still rooted to the closed door. He seems transfixed, motionless, frozen.

Shock. Bewilderment. Guilt.

There are so many emotions playing on his face, that I find myself fighting for breath.

"Cha?" It's a plea. /---Please look at me. It's not your fault. You are not responsible---/ But my mouth is dry all of a sudden and I can't say anything. And then he turns his eyes to my face, and I nearly choke at the look in his eyes.

Hurt. Anguish.

The pain in his eyes is too much to take, as I find my mouth opening and closing, but no words come out. /---No, Chakotay. I didn't plan this. I swear I didn't plan this---/ I want to scream, but all I do is silently watch, as he reaches for his clothes and without a word, starts to dress himself. /---Don't go, Chakotay. Don't leave me here---/ But instead of saying something to take away that pained expression from his face, I watch him silently, numbly, as he finishes dressing.

"Chakotay...." God, can't he tell I am asking him to stop a second and hear the need in my voice?

"I'll see you on the bridge, Ensign."

His voice is strained, heavy with emotions that are too complex for either of us to sort out. And without waiting for a reply, he walks out of the Observation Lounge, the door swishing close behind him.

I stand, frozen in guilt and shock, and stare at the door.

"But I didn't use you, Chakotay. I have waited for you all these years and I love you." I say to the empty room.

But there is no one here to hear my words.

He's gone.

I am all alone.



To be continued in DAZE