Disclaimer: Paramount own them, I am only meddling for my own entertainment and really mean no harm - sorry.
Three hours ago she had decided that he had to come to her. She had made the offer of support, a friend to talk to, a shoulder to cry on if he wanted, but she couldn't force him to accept, no matter how much she thought he needed the catharsis. That had to be his choice.
But, she had waited, in the hopes that he might find his way to her door. Waiting had given the Captain of Voyager time to dwell on the decisions that had led to this, on the things that might have been different, she had allotted blame and accepted her share of the guilt. But in the end her introspection came to nothing, the damage was still done. She had already decided that if she had the time over again there was little she would change, certainly nothing that would alter the fate of the young woman who had gone so bravely to her death. There was nothing in her ruminations that would provide comfort to her First Officer - and heaven only knew what he was feeling at the moment.
Those last moments had been a blur of blood, mud and desperation. Her priority had been to rescue her downed away team and get the hell out of there. Perhaps she shouldn't have been so surprised to learn that in the time they had been on the Planet they had enlisted some help. But she hadn't missed the expression of fear that had crossed Chakotay's face when the young woman, Lorea, had taken a handful of companions and attempted to draw off some enemy fire, while she and B'elanna had moved the away team across the large stretch of open ground to the shuttle.
Not a suicide mission on the face of it, but Chakotay had been on the Planet for several days, knew the circumstances and the terrain better than she did, and he clearly did not think Lorea would be coming back - and he had been right.
Knowing Chakotay as she did she hadn't been surprised at the closeness she had witnessed in those few tattered moments. He had a way of drawing people to him, she was no more immune to that than those who had followed him in the Maquis, or the women who had drifted in and out of his life. Lorea and her group had been freedom fighters of a sort, people Chakotay would have had a natural empathy with. He might have found their way of doing things refreshingly direct after the rules and regulations of Voyager. She had seen the way Lorea looked at Chakotay, seen the currents of respect and attraction that had flowed between them. Then it had not been the right time to be jealous and now was even less appropriate, given that Lorea was dead but... no one was perfect.
The doorbell chimed and as she called for her visitor to enter she tried to rearrange her features into an expression she hoped was appropriate for Chakotay's mood and wished that her feelings could be reshuffled so easily.
'Chakotay.' Her scrutiny of her First Officer was careful, but discrete. He looked tired and edgy, the injuries he'd sustained during the mission had been healed, or at least the physical wounds had been. 'Can I get you a drink?' He shook his head and remained standing, looking irresolute, giving her the impression that if she said the wrong thing he might bolt.
'What's to say,' his bitter laugh was far more disturbing than his words.
'Are you my friend Kathryn? Sometimes it feels as though you are my most deadly adversary.' The words forced her breath out of her lungs and her voice was shaky as she replied.
'There's been a temporary cease-fire, a truce, there won't be any fighting tonight.' She reached across and took his hand. 'I am your friend tonight.' He closed his eyes out of relief, or perhaps to hide what she might have seen there.
'But what about tomorrow?' He whispered.
Chakotay leant into the velvety softness that dwelt behind his eyelids and wished he could find it more comforting and calming. He shouldn't have come here like this, shouldn't have said all those fanciful things. Now she would be bound to ask him what he had meant when he had described them as adversaries. The long and painful discussion which would inevitably ensue was the last thing he needed tonight.
But she surprised him, as she was wont to do, asking instead. 'How did you make contact with them, Lorea and her group?' he opened his eyes, despairing of the energy the simple movement took.
'Just the salient points, Commander.' She placed a slight emphasis on his title, striking him back for using her title just a moment before. The games they played with each other, the ways they could find to hurt each other were the stuff of his late night musings, they did not sit well with her presence. His eyes drifted shut again, a surrender to the knowledge that if he kept looking at her he would remember how much he could want her.
But he scene that played out behind his eyelids was hardly a comfortable diversion. He found himself on a dusty, shell marked hillside, taking cover with the rest of the away team in a small stone building with massive holes ripped into it from the blasts of projectile weapons.
That admission was too close to home, too personal. She squeezed his hand, just to remind him of her presence and he was glad he had found the strength to come to her. No one healed him the way she did.
'You blame yourself for her death?' It was a difficult question to answer, not least because it was a reminder that she had died, while he had been talking about her it was easier to remember her as full of life and vitality, even if that vitality was spurred on by a bitter anger.
'Kathryn,' he shook his head slightly, searching for a way to retreat, to not confront this now, when he was so tired. But her eyes were too compelling, had always been too compelling.
'Perhaps it's me that I'm worried about. I think I might very easily break.' She frowned, her face twisting into a grimace that was somehow more touching than he wanted to admit.
'You flatter yourself Captain. You've done to me only what I allowed to be done, your willing victim - as always.' The harshness escaped him without it intending to, pent up rage venting at the person closest to him.
'You do.' He tried to tell himself that he hadn't meant it to sound like an accusation, but he'd never been a good liar, honesty meant too much to him. There was a long silence and he wondered idly if she would strike him or just throw him out. But when he looked at her, her eyes were downcast and he could tell she was struggling with an admission, a painful truth.
'I would never do that, at our situation perhaps, but never at you.' He closed his eyes and turned his head so that he could press a kiss onto her palm. 'What are we going to do?' She breathed.
Panic fluttered through her, a hundred command and tactical considerations competing for her attention and silenced by one look at Chakotay's face - the expression in his eyes. 'Why is it you always seem to believe I'll do the right thing, in the end?' She enquired with a burst of mock outrage.
'Oh definitely - aside from all the technical stuff, it's my job to tell you when you're wrong - and you're wrong about us Kathryn.' Her fingers moved gently over his face until she pressed a gentle kiss onto his cheek.
'Quite a few people actually.' They were being flippant, silly, a total change in direction from the weighty discussion they had emerged from just a few moments before. He smiled and that was the moment she decided she was going to kiss him, she leaned towards his lips, but he drew away.