This story is rated PG13 for descriptions of consensual sex.

Smoke and Mirrors

In a Universe full of mysteries of great complexity, of things we do not, never will understand, there is something comforting about the simplicity of the movements of a flame. There are flames that can’t keep still, that leap and dance , their restless momentum spreading agitation, ripples of impatience. Then there are the flames that burn calmly and steadfastly, without any of that frantic, urgent movement.

Captain Kathryn Janeway gazed at the flame that burned in the lamp that stood in front of the viewport and tried to take comfort in it’s stoicism, tried to find in it’s depths a little of the strength she had lost. But there was nothing there – only smoke and mirrors.

She glanced at the glass of whiskey that lay just within her reach. There were no answers for her in its contents. No secret messages from beyond the grave telling her how to go on now, how to find a peace she suspected she had never known in the first place.

It was the pointlessness of it that had sent her running headlong to darkness and real alcohol. Just for tonight the need to indulge herself in all the things she had told her crew were pointless, was overwhelming. She was the Captain, if anyone was allowed to break the rules it washer. So, she was allowed to rehearse the what ifs and the maybes into the early hours of the morning. It was acceptable to ask herself what she could have done differently until there was nothing left in her head but the sound of her own criticisms, her own stark analysis of her failings. And tomorrow all the sorrow and the guilt that was crashing over her now would be firmly shut away in some impenetrable place inside of her, self-indulgance was something she could afford for a limited period only.

She couldn’t even stand to look up, didn’t want to see her own reflection in the viewport. Culpability was stamped over her features, never to be lost now.

The doorchime was a persistant irritant, like an insect that refused to be swatted away. She knew who her caller was, understood the motivation that brought him here. She didn’t have the energy to send him away, but she didn’t have the motivation to tell him to come in either – not that that would stop him.

‘Captain.’

Chakotay moved slowly across her quarters, manouvring with care in more ways than one. Looking at Kathryn, seeing her like this was almost as upsetting as the accident. It seemed impossible that just a few hours ago they had been so happy. He wasn’t entirely sure they were the same people they had been an hour ago.

If he closed his eyes he could hear the music, the sound of their laughter. His eyes strayed to the couch, the cushions were still scattered about the floor. Somehow they’d never made it to bed, at the time that hadn’t seemed important, now it mattered desperately.

‘Kathryn,’ he pushed away the impulse to put his arms around her just as he ignored the need to demand of the Gods why they had done this to them, why they had felt the need to burden someone who already carried so much.

‘How’s the crew?’ She asked without looking around at him, watching his reflection in the viewport instead, no doubt seeing the pain that twisted around his moth before he answered.

‘Shocked, quite a few of them are in the mess hall.’

‘Do you think it would help if I put in an appearance?’

‘I don’t think anyone expects to see you tonight. They understand.’

‘Do they?’ She snapped, ‘that’s good because I don’t. It’s just such a pointless, stupid waste.’ She shook her head, angry at feeling so futile, angry at her inability to fin a reason. ‘What’s the point?’ she asked the Universe in general, ‘what is the point?’

‘Is there anything I can do?’

you see, promised him I’d get him home to his family.’ There was nothing to say to that and no one knew it better than Chakotay.

‘It was an accident.’ He pointed out, although neither of them doubted it for a moment.

‘And the Universe is full of accidents – I know. Although most of them do seem to happen on, this ship or in it’s vicinity. Did it ever occur to you that we are jinxed Chakotay?’

‘It does seem like that sometimes, more than ever today. I don’t know what to say to you Kathryn.’

She managed a small smile, before remarking. ‘Two or three hours ago you were ready to promise me anything.’ The flashback was vivid, her svelte, ivory body above his, moving slowly and confidently as she controlled the pace of their love making. Her skin was flushed, her head arched back as her hair fell over her shoulders and his hands roamed restlessly over her. To break it’s spell he said the first thing that occurred to him,

‘Two or three hours ago Tuvok wasn’t dead.’

‘I hadn’t forgotten.’ The last thing he had intended was to be so cruel and as he began to apologise she waved a hand to stop him. ‘Chakotay, I lost one of my best friends today, a few harsh words here and there really aren’t going to make any difference to how I feel. Tuvok was the only person who knew me before Voyager, before this not quite so fantastic journey. I lost him and a little bit of myself.’

He took a step towards her, stopping within touching distance, reaching out to brush her arm with his fingertips as she whispered, ‘I don’t want to lose anyone else, I don’t want to lose you.’

This time the flashback was afterwards, of the way the slowness of afterglow crept over them, the way they were wrapped around each other, of the touch of her hands as they stole over his face and wiped some damp hair back from his brow. At that moment he’d felt as though anything were possible, including living happily ever after.

To escape the images he shook his head, as though a simple movement could dispel them. Without looking at him she said, ‘I don’t want you to think that I regret what happened, how could I? A few hours of feeling alive amidst all of this are worth their weight in gold.’

Despite is best intentions he couldn’t help asking, ‘is that all it was?’

‘I don’t know. I did know, I was quite sure what I was doing, I wasn’t playing games or using you Chakotay. I meant it to be special.’

‘It was,’ the memory of just how special was why he couldn’t walk away now, why he had to find away through this with hope alive between them. ‘Tell me what happens now?’

‘I won’t run, I won’t pretend this didn’t happen, that it was a mistake. But Tuvok died while we were together, I know there was nothing we could have done, even if we’d been there, but I can’t think of anything but him at the moment.’

‘I don’t mean to be selfish, asking you about us when Tuvok’s…’

‘Barely cold.’ She finished for him. ‘You may be selfish; but you’re hardly in my league; guilt, blame, failure, I am on intimate terms with them all.’

‘And with me.’

She turned away from the viewport for the first time and he saw the redness of her eyes and the path the tears had etched across her features. ‘When I was with you forgot all the things I couldn’t do, damn, I forgot everything but you and I.’

‘You did seem very involved.’

‘You made it so easy to lose myself.’

‘Well, I was very involved as well. I’ve never been so swept away before.’ She glanced past him at the cushions they’d scattered in their wake, at the discarded wine glasses and the data padd she’d been reading before he’d appeared at her door the first time. Reaching out to him she took one of his hands in hers and raised it to her cheek, testing the strength and the gentleness, even though she’d already found all the answers she needed when he’d touched her. ‘Is there anything I can do Kathryn?’ He repeated his earlier question.

‘Stay?’ The request seemed to surprise them both. ‘I still want to wake up with you.’

‘Of course I’ll stay.’ He pressed a kiss onto the top of her head and then set about restoring the room to something approximating it’s normal condition, While he was doing that she moved the Vulcan meditation lamp to the coffee table and poured out a second glass of scotch.

‘You look tired,’ she observed as he sat down beside her. ‘Gods I don’t even know what time it is. I feel as though I’ve been awake forever.’

‘It’s about three am. Are you tired?’

‘Not really, I just want to sit here and watch the lamp, and think about Tuvok.’

He didn’t reply, instead he pulled her to him and put his arms around her as she nestled against him making herself comfortable. The silence stretched, the flame on the lamp hardly flickered, their breathing fell into sync and it was a long time before Chakotay said quietly to the woman in his arms, ‘by the way, Happy Birthday.’

The End