Author's note: This story fits in some time after Seska left Voyager but before the final showdown with her. It's a shameless bodice-ripper. Come on, you've fantasized about Chakotay in buckskins, haven't you??? As always, Paramount owns these characters. Well, not THESE characters, exactly...

Habit of Command
by Maquis Mom

When Captain Janeway beamed back to Voyager after a long, exhausting round of trade negotiations with a race known as the Telurians, she had no idea that anything was wrong. As she materialized in the familiar confines of the transporter room, she noticed a trace of dizziness, but that was all. She nodded to Ensign Bolari and turned toward the turbolift, thinking longingly of a hot shower and hours of dreamless sleep. She missed the strange look that crossed the young ensign's face, too tired to register it. When the turbolift doors swished open and Lt. Tuvok stepped out, she smiled at him, opened her mouth to say something about the successful conclusion of the negotiations, then promptly collapsed, limp and unconscious, into his arms.

Later, though how much later she had no way of knowing, Janeway awoke in sickbay. Her head throbbed when she opened her eyes, and she immediately realized that trying to sit up was a bad idea. She rolled her head carefully to the side, looking for the doctor, but the room was empty.

"Hello?" Her voice sounded weak and unsteady. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Is someone here?"

There was movement from the next room, and the familiar figure of the holographic doctor appeared. "Oh, good, you're awake. How do you feel, Commander?"

At first, his greeting didn't register. "I've felt better," she admitted. "I have a splitting headache, but--what did you call me?"

The doctor looked startled at the sharpness of her tone. "Commander?" he repeated, the final syllable of the word raised interrogatively. "Yes, I'm sure that I called you Commander." He nodded. "It is your rank, I believe."

Headache or no, Janeway sat up at his words, swaying as the pain intensified. She closed her eyes, swallowing down a rush of nausea, then carefully opened them again. The doctor stood at her side, his hand on her shoulder to hold her steady, his expression concerned.

"I think you should lie down. I don't know what happened to you, but you seem to be suffering the effects of some type of trauma." He began to push her back down onto the bio-bed, and she felt too weak to resist.

"But you called me Commander," she protested. "I don't remember what happened, either, but I certainly know my name and rank, and I can assure you I'm not a commander, I'm a captain. Captain Kathryn Janeway."

The doctor was silent for a minute, then he raised his hand to his comm badge. "Sickbay to Chakotay."

"Go ahead, doctor."

"Captain, I think you'd better get down here. We seem to have a problem."

***

"This is impossible. This is not happening," Janeway kept repeating the words to herself, unaware that she was saying them aloud. The doctor scanned her, frowning over the readouts, unable to determine the cause of her apparent delusion. He couldn't find anything wrong with her, but Captain Chakotay wasn't going to accept that, and the doctor was uneasily aware that the next few minutes could be unpleasant ones. When the door opened, he turned sharply to face the captain, blocking Janeway's view.

"What's the problem?" Chakotay's voice was calm, but by now the doctor knew that meant nothing. The quieter he got, the worse it usually was for any crew member who displeased him.

"I'm not sure. She collapsed after transporting back from the planet, and now she seems--confused."

Janeway had had enough of being talked about like she wasn't there. "There's nothing wrong with me except for this damned headache," she insisted, craning her head around to try to see Chakotay in spite of the additional pain this caused. "But I think the doctor's programming has been corrupted. He seems to have forgotten that I'm captain of this ship."

At her words, Chakotay pushed the doctor aside and strode to the bio-bed. Janeway took one look at him and felt her jaw drop. It was Chakotay, but not as she had ever seen him. The maroon and black uniform was gone, replaced by pale cream-colored buckskin breeches and a fringed vest that barely covered his powerful chest. A beaded amulet hung around his neck. His hair was still short and shot through with silver, but the familiar tattoo had changed, its simple design larger and more elaborate. When he turned slightly, she noticed that it extended down from his temple to curve in a series of slashes under his eye. The lines were elaborately shaded in red and blue, but she couldn't tell if the color was part of the tattoo, or painted on. She also noted that she had been wrong about his hair--although it was short on top and at the sides and nape, he had allowed one long thick lock to grow from the crown of his head. It was braided tightly and tied with a beaded thong from which several black and white feathers dangled. When he bent over her, the braid fell across his shoulder and the feathers brushed against Janeway's cheek, but she barely noticed it in her shock at the forbidding expression on the face of the man she had come to admire and rely on during their short association.

"What is this foolishness?" he asked. "What's wrong with you?"

"I--I don't understand any of this." Janeway knew that something catastrophic must have happened during her beam-up, but the ever-increasing headache and the shock of Chakotay's appearance and status seemed to freeze her thought processes in some horrible limbo of confusion and denial. She wanted to take charge of the situation, but the effort was beyond her. She turned her face away from the piercing gaze of the man who apparently thought he was captain of her ship, and allowed her own eyes to close.

"Kathryn!" The unfamiliar sound of her name on his lips sounded harsh, and she refused to look at him. When she was a child, her youthful imagination had frequently conjured up strange nighttime visitors, ghosts and werewolves and other unearthly creatures. Most of the time she enjoyed their company, but sometimes they frightened her and refused to go away. She had learned that if she ignored them with all her considerable will, they would quickly fade away into nothingness. Surely if she concentrated hard enough, this one would vanish as well. It had to--didn't it?

Behind her, the doctor cleared his throat. "Captain, I think you should let her rest. Whatever has happened to her, there's nothing organically wrong. She may be delusional now, but I'm confident that she'll be herself again in no time."

"She had better be." On those ominous words, Chakotay turned and left.

***

Janeway awoke slowly to the smell of coffee. Its unmistakable fragrance wafted into her consciousness, teasing her awake. Just before her eyes opened, she remembered the dream she had had about being in sickbay with a terrible headache and a strangely changed Chakotay telling her that he was captain of Voyager. It was so vivid in her mind that she could feel remnants of the pain, much less severe now but still there. She frowned, wondering how a dream could cause physical symptoms, but her thoughts were interrupted by a metallic clink near her head. Her eyes flew open to see a large coffee mug seeming to magically appear on the bedside table, its steaming contents causing her stomach to rumble. A low laugh from the end of the bed startled her, drawing her gaze away from the coffee to the man who stood there in the shadows.

"I knew that would do it."

"Do what?" Janeway glanced at the coffee cup longingly, but her attention returned to Chakotay, whose voice she recognized. What was he doing in her quarters? She sat up, realized that she was wearing nothing but a silk nightgown, then pulled the covers up around her shoulders.

"Wake you up. You've been asleep for fourteen hours." He came around the side of the bed and sat beside her, looking as if he belonged there. He was shirtless and his feet were bare, and when he turned to pick up the mug, a long loose lock of hair swung across his back. He turned back, offering her the coffee. Uneasily aware that her dream was not yet over, Janeway let the covers fall and took the mug, sipping carefully. The coffee was strong, hot and black, just the way she liked it, and in spite of her alarm over the strange situation she was in, she couldn't help the sigh that escaped her at the taste of it. She savored it, but only for a moment, before a memory intruded.

"I was in sickbay." The confusion returned, in spades.

"I thought you'd rest better in your own bed."

Janeway glanced around the room. It was her quarters. She recognized the furnishings, saw her own things scattered around in their usual places, but she also noticed that there were changes. A wall hanging, a small pot on the dresser, a pile of fur which she recognized as Chakotay's medicine bundle--what were his belongings doing here?

"Commander--Captain--we have to talk." Janeway bent past him to put the mug on the table, then froze there when she felt his hand in her hair.

"You don't have to call me Captain when we're alone. And it wasn't talking I had in mind," he said softly, his fingers making small circles on the tender skin at the nape of her neck. "You've been gone on your little trade mission for three days, and I missed you." Before she could move, he had pressed her back against the pillows and was bending over her, his familiar but altered face descending, his eyes burning with passion. Janeway stared up at him, stunned that her body was reacting to his touch. For one moment, she almost wanted to lie back and let him do what he so obviously intended to do, but just as his lips began to brush hers, she remembered who and what she was. One hand reached up to grasp the long tail of hair, and she gave it a yank, at the same time pushing at his chest. He looked shocked, then angry, and then they were wrestling, she striking out with fists and knees and elbows, while he tried to control her with his superior weight and strength. She fought valiantly but was no match for him, and a short time later she was again pushed back into the pillows, his hands holding her arms above her head and his lower body pinning her to the bed. "I thought we were past all this," he hissed at her. "I thought you accepted a long time ago that what once was true has been changed forever. Your ship belongs to me now." His hands tightened on her wrists, and he shook her, hard. "Your crew belongs to me. There's no more Starfleet, no Maquis, just my crew. And you belong to me, too, though you still fight it."

"What you say may be true for you, Chakotay, but I'm not your woman, and this is not my universe." Janeway said. He would never know how much effort it took for her to keep her voice steady.

He stared down at her, then muttered a curse under his breath and let her go. "What does that mean? What are you up to?" He watched warily as she slid off the far side of the bed, pulling on a robe that lay discarded in a chair. It was his robe, but she didn't seem to notice, or care.

"I think that something happened to me when I was beaming up from the planet. I must have been caught in some kind of a rift or spatial distortion. This Voyager is not the ship I came from, the ship where I'm the captain and you're my first officer." Janeway sat in the chair, her forehead creased in thought. "It's happened before, Starfleet has documented cases, and--"

"You mean those tall tales about Admiral Kirk? You actually believe that stuff?"

"I suppose they've been exaggerated over time, but there have been other, more recent instances. I know that the Enterprise D experienced the phenomenon. In fact, I heard Jean-Luc Picard deliver a fascinating paper on--"

"Picard! Now there's another reliable source for you," Chakotay scoffed. "I keep forgetting how well indoctrinated you've been by your precious Federation."

Would this man never let her finish a sentence?? Janeway was beginning to find him annoying, especially when she contrasted his behavior with that of her much more well-behaved first officer. "Look, your opinion of Starfleet isn't really relevant, is it? One thing hasn't changed between my universe and yours. All of us are stranded in the Delta Quadrant, and Starfleet is effectively out of the picture."

"That's right, and most of us don't miss it quite as much as you do." There was a note of pettishness in his voice that she didn't miss. Could it be that "his" Janeway was not as reconciled to her subservient role as he would like her to be? She wondered what had happened, how she had been forced to turn the ship over to him, and opened her mouth to ask when he spoke again. "If this theory of yours is true, what are we supposed to do about it? What would the great Picard do?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure that the ship's databanks could help. We should check the transporter logs, too, maybe they'll shed some light on what happened."

To her surprise, he laughed at her suggestion. "You don't really think that my security officer is going to let you near the computers, do you?"

"Tuvok? Why would he object? And why don't I have clearance, anyway? I thought I--I mean--SHE is your first officer."

"A courtesy title. You don't do much except--well..." He glanced meaningfully at the bed, then caught her eyes. "That, and keeping the 'fleeters in line. I suppose you're more of a morale officer than anything else." He grinned at that. "I'm not sure whose morale is better, mine or the crew's."

Janeway felt her cheeks redden. "And she--I--just accept this demeaning position?" She shook her head. "That's impossible! I can't possibly be so different."

"You did what you had to do. My Maquis were in control of the ship, but we needed both crews to run it, and we both knew that. So we came to an amicable arrangement." He shrugged. "I know you want your ship back, Kathryn, but I also know you won't do anything to upset the status quo. Things could be much worse."

"Really? How?" In spite of herself, Janeway found his words intriguing. For a moment he sounded reasonable, almost like her Chakotay would.

"Not all the Maquis are as reasonable as I am," he unconsciously echoed her thoughts. "I take care of your crew. I treat them well. I treat YOU well."

"And I treat you well. I see." Janeway didn't trouble to hide the sarcasm.

"That's right." Chakotay got up from the bed and went into the bathroom, leaving her to her thoughts. When he came back out a few minutes later, he had finished dressing, at least as much as he apparently ever dressed. He wore a different vest, this one laced up to mid-chest level, but his arms were bare. His breeches were tucked into soft high animal-skin boots. He tossed her a leather thong, then knelt down beside her. "Braid this, will you?" he asked casually, turning his head so she could reach the long hair at the back of his head. "I have to get to the bridge."

Janeway started to obey, then caught herself and paused, the fingers of one hand tangled in his hair. "You can't just leave now," she said sharply. "We haven't decided what we're going to do about--"

He swung around to glare at her. "I'll do the deciding, and when I do, you'll be the first to know. In the meantime, you stay here, out of trouble." He turned away again, obviously waiting for her to braid his hair.

She bent forward and slapped the leather thong into his hand. "I don't think so, Chakotay," she gritted. "This particular Janeway has no interest in playing handmaiden." She sat back in the chair and folded her arms. He cast her a stony look, but didn't respond, just stood up and walked to the door.

"Wait a minute," she said, belatedly recalling his earlier words. "You said that Tuvok wouldn't allow me to use the computers. Why not?"

"I never mentioned Tuvok. He's not my security officer."

"Then who is?"

"Seska."

***

Janeway remained in her quarters for almost an hour before she couldn't stand it any more. She hadn't actually promised to stay there, after all, so she put on her uniform (not allowing herself to think about who had undressed her the previous night) and regretfully removed the fourth captain's pip from her collar. It wasn't going to be easy to conceal her habit of command, but surely she could play the part for as long as it took to find her way back. She waited for a full minute at the door, half afraid that Chakotay had locked her in, then squared her shoulders and stepped forward. The door opened--a good start. She hesitated for a moment, then turned toward the turbolift. Her first stop would be the transporter room.

Ensign Bolari was on duty again. Janeway didn't know her very well, but she was grateful to be dealing with one of her own crew. "Good morning, Ensign. Did Captain Chakotay tell you I would be examining the transporter logs today? The doctor is concerned that there might have been a malfunction when I beamed up."

"No, Commander, I haven't heard anything about it. Is that why you got sick, then?" The girl looked uncomfortable.

"Well, yes, presumably. Why else would I have been ill?" Bolari didn't respond, but her cheeks reddened. "What is it?"

"It's nothing, Commander. Just a stupid rumor. Should I call the logs up now?"

Janeway didn't have to think too hard to figure out what the young ensign meant. So, the crew thought she might be pregnant, did they? Her first thought was to inform Bolari that if she were pregnant, it would have to be by divine intervention, but then she wondered if the rumor might not prove useful in some way, so she just smiled in what she hoped was an enigmatic way.

"Commander, if you'll just give me the access code, I'll go ahead now," the girl prompted.

"Access code?"

"The security code. You know, from Seska..." Bolari looked even more embarrassed now. "You didn't clear this with her?"

"I--uhh--must have misunderstood Chakotay. I thought he was going to take care of it." Janeway felt her own cheeks flushing. Security codes to access transporter logs? Good God, what had they done to her ship???

Bolari, to give her credit, was trying to be helpful. "Well, maybe he forgot. If you like, I'll contact Seska myself, and--"

"That won't be necessary, Ensign," a voice interrupted. "As you can see, I'm here." Seska came through the doors and strode arrogantly up to Janeway. She, like Chakotay, wore civilian dress, a tight-fitting dark blue jumpsuit. Her Bajoran earring caught Janeway's eye immediately. So, this Seska hadn't yet been revealed to be a Cardassian spy. Interesting. "Well, Kate, how are you feeling? Chakotay said you were under the weather and you'd be sleeping in today, but you don't look sick to me." Seska's words dripped sarcasm.

"Oh, I'm not sick. In fact, I've never been better." Janeway managed a rueful laugh. "Chakotay is just being overprotective."

Seska's eyes widened slightly, and her fake smile disappeared. "What are you talking about?" she demanded.

"Why, nothing, really," Janeway replied airily. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you that Chakotay can be rather endearingly male at times, and this is just one of those times."

Seska stared daggers at her. Janeway knew that in her universe Seska and Chakotay had been involved during their time together with the Maquis. She could still remember the scene in sickbay when the false Bajoran had scorned him before having herself beamed to the Kazon ship. So, maybe this Seska also had a history with him. And maybe she was jealous of Janeway. Yes, there was a definite hint of green in her indigo eyes at that moment, she thought. She stared back, the slightest of smiles on her lips. Over Seska's shoulder, she saw that Ensign Bolari had a wide grin of approval on her face, a grin which she hastily swallowed when Seska spun on her heel to face her. "What is she doing here, Bolari? What did she ask you to do? And what were you about to call me for?"

"I--I--" Bolari looked pleadingly at Janeway, obviously not knowing what to say.

"For heaven's sake, Seska, lighten up. The doctor was curious about the dizzy spell I suffered yesterday, and he suggested we have the transporter checked out. I forgot to notify you before I came down to look at the logs, that's all."

Seska glanced over her shoulder at Janeway. "So, what's really going on here? Fainting spells? Nonexistent trouble with the transporter? Sounds like another one of your cute little ploys to bring Chakotay under your thumb to me. One of these days he's going to get tired of being led around by his cock, and you'll end up down in the galley peeling vegetables with that damned traitor Tuvok." She smiled at Janeway's look of outrage. "Come on, just between us girls, have you managed to convince the Big Chief that there's a little papoose on the way? Or, might it possibly turn out to be a Vulcan halfbreed instead?" Janeway realized then that she had never really liked Seska very much. In fact, she liked her so little that she couldn't stop herself from following her instincts and slapping the Bajoran woman's face. Hard. Twice. Seska staggered backwards, bumping into Bolari, who dived for cover behind the console, depriving Seska of the slight support of her body. Losing her balance, Seska landed in a heap on the deck. However, Janeway barely had time to smile triumphantly before the security officer was on her feet again with her phaser in her hand. It was not set on stun.

"You'll pay for this," Seska hissed. "You'll be whoring for the Kazon very soon, I promise you! But before you start your new career, maybe we'd better take care of THIS first." She shoved the phaser into Janeway's midsection.

Janeway froze. Bolari screamed. Behind them, Chakotay came flying into the room, taking in the entire scene in one disbelieving glance. "Drop the phaser now," he growled at Seska, his eyes glaring cold fury. Janeway had never seen him that angry; apparently, Seska hadn't either. The phaser dropped, and Chakotay motioned to Bolari to pick it up. "Now, will somebody tell me what the hell is going on here?"

***

Ten minutes later, Janeway was back in her quarters with a furious Chakotay, who had cut short all explanations, grabbed her by the upper arm, and half-dragged her out of the transporter room. Wincing, she rubbed her arm, certain that there would be bruises where his fingers had dug into her skin.

"I told you I would take care of this. Why didn't you just stay--"

"Nobody tells me what to do, mister," Janeway interrupted, glad for once to be able to cut him off. "I had no idea what you planned, since you didn't see fit to tell me. As far as I knew, I was on my own, and I did what I thought was necessary." She glared at him defiantly.

"And very nearly got yourself killed in the process. Very impressive, Kathryn," he jeered. "You have no idea what the situation is on this ship, but instead of trusting me to figure out what we should do, you just take off alone, blundering your way into a major confrontation with someone who would very much like an excuse to kill you, and you have the nerve to be mad at me about it?" He shook his head. "I think MY Kathryn Janeway has a lot more common sense than you do."

"Can you give me any reason why I should trust you? MY Chakotay is a man of honor and I trust him implicitly, but you're nothing but a swaggering bully with a pirate complex! What I'd like to know is how you managed to steal this ship in the first place. Somehow I doubt that it was a simple matter of flexing your muscles and looking heroic. What treachery did you use to trick her, Chakotay?" Janeway had been pacing, arms folded, while she vented her fury, but now she stopped and looked at him, trying to gauge his reaction to her taunts.

"This serves no purpose," he said levelly, his tightly clenched jaw revealing how near to the surface his anger was. "What matters is the mess you've made of everything. Do you really think Seska will let you anywhere near those logs now?"

"You're the damned captain, aren't you? Order her to let us look at them!"

"It's not that simple. Seska has her territory, and it's understood that we don't interfere with each other. She hates you, and she only tolerates having me in command because I have more supporters among the crew than she does right now, a situation that could change quickly, especially if I start behaving strangely."

"This is not a starship, it's an armed camp," Janeway said wonderingly.

"Exactly. And whether you like it or not, while you're here in this armed camp, you'll have to learn to play by our rules. No doubt your Starfleet sensibilities will be offended, but you'll adjust." He threw a challenging glance at her. "If you insist on going off on your own, I'll have no choice but to throw you in the brig."

Janeway stared at him, uneasily aware that he wasn't bluffing, and also that in spite of the way his belligerent stance set her back up, he was probably correct in his assessment of their situation. She really would have to play a part, no matter how difficult that might be. "All right," she said. "I'll concede that you know better than I do how to handle this--peculiar--world of yours, and if I'm going to get back to my own life, I'll have to force myself to trust you. Somehow."

Chakotay frowned at her words. "Is that the best you can do?"

"What?"

"If you want my help, you'll have to do better than that. I may be a swaggering bully, but I recognize condescension when I hear it." He took her arm, a bit more gently than the last time, and led her over to the viewport, pointing out into the blackness of space. "It doesn't look much different from the Alpha Quadrant, does it?"

"No, I suppose not." She glanced at him, surprised at the sudden change in his mood.

"You and I have both spent most of our adult lives knocking around in space, and what might seem dangerous to someone else is familiar and even comfortable to us. But we know that looks can be deceiving, don't we? We have no idea what really lies out there. All we know for sure is that Starfleet and the Cardassians and the Maquis are so far away that they don't matter any more. Maybe there's a way back, but what are the odds that we'll find it? We're alone here, in this hostile, alien environment, and we have to trust each other because there is no one else."

Janeway listened quietly, no longer wondering how it was possible that he had wrested control of the ship from her counterpart; he had undoubtedly convinced her with those same words. He almost sounded like the Chakotay of her time. Was it possible that the arrogant rebel who held command with an iron fist was just an illusion, that he was playing a part? Was he that good an actor? She remembered something he had said earlier, something about her doing what she had to do for the good of her crew. Was he, too, doing what was necessary to survive?

He had fallen silent, eyes on the stars, and she studied him, noting all over again how different he looked. This Chakotay was blatantly, aggressively male. He wore his native clothing as if they were a second skin, she thought as her eyes rested on the curve of his thighs under the leather breeches. Yes, different--but was he, really? How many times had she found herself, back on her own Voyager, noticing things like the sensual curve of his lower lip, or the width of his shoulders under the confining Starfleet uniform in which he never seemed really comfortable? He was complex, capable of hiding his feelings behind that stoic mask, but she had seen beyond it on a few occasions, had seen turbulent emotions under the calm surface, and had sensed the passion in him. She made it her business to know things about her crew, what they did when they were off duty, who they spent time with, who was sleeping with who. She knew of at least a dozen female crew members who would gladly have given him anything he wanted, if he would only have looked twice at them, but as far as she knew he had been celibate since joining her crew. And yet, she knew the passion was there, like a banked fire. Maybe this is what he would be like if just the right breeze came along to fan the flames.

"So, how are we going to play this, Janeway? You might be stuck here in my time just as much as Voyager is stuck in the Delta Quadrant, you know. Are you prepared to deal with that, and with me?"

"I don't see that I have any choice, so I'll do whatever it is you think I have to do. But I'll warn you, if we fail and I do have to stay here, I'll do everything in my power to take my ship back," she responded curtly.

"Is that a threat?"

"No, it's a promise."

***

The first thing he had ordered--ORDERED!--her to do was to apologize to Seska. It didn't have to be an elaborate expression of regret, but it had to be both believable and public. For a moment, Janeway was tempted to tell Chakotay exactly where he could stick his apology, but his eyes warned her that she would regret any sign of rebellion she might be tempted to make. He had left then, to talk to Seska alone, he said. She wondered if mere talk would be enough to placate the evil bi--woman, then found herself frowning at the thought that he might have to try other means to persuade Seska to forget the incident. She was immediately furious with herself for her reaction. Firmly reminding herself that it was not her but the other (weaker?) Janeway who was sharing his bed, she sat on said bed and prepared to wait for the summons she knew would be coming. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long, and, no, that was not intended to mean that she hoped that whatever Chakotay might be doing with Seska right now would be concluded quickly. Though of course that was exactly what she hoped. She had to get back, today, if possible, before the other Janeway decided that she wanted to stay where she was, back in command of Voyager and without annoying personal entanglements and villainous pseudo-Bajorans to trouble her!

Janeway knew she had to find something to do while she waited. She looked around the familiar but subtly altered room, and made up her mind. A few minutes later, she was going through Chakotay's drawers. She told herself that they were her drawers and she was simply looking for her favorite scarf, but the truth was that she was curious about him and his possessions. She looked through underwear and socks with interest, and was entranced by what looked like some kind of a breechcloth. She picked through a collection of ornaments adorned with feathers and beads that lay in an untidy heap on the dresser, and tried on a bracelet made of twisted leather thongs. She had just noticed with no little annoyance that there were a few long black hairs caught in the bristles of her gold hairbrush, which had been a gift from Mark, when the door chirped. Unaware that she still clutched the breechcloth in one hand, she called out a brisk "Come in," then hastily stuffed the silly thing under the pillows on the couch. The door slid open, and B'Elanna Torres entered the room.

"Commander, I need to talk to you," B'Elanna said as she entered. "I know we haven't seen eye-to-eye in the past, but I hope you'll be frank with me about something."

"I'll try," Janeway responded, waving the chief engineer to a chair. No doubt Torres held the same post on this Voyager, since it was Chakotay who had convinced her to appoint his former engineer to that position. After a shaky first few days, Janeway had not had cause to regret her decision; in fact, she had become quite close to the passionate, though sometimes tactless, young woman. Somehow she doubted that her counterpart could say the same. It seemed that she and Chakotay were the only members of the two crews who had managed to form any kind of a relationship at all. Janeway had yet to begin to understand the nature of that particular bond, and she wasn't sure she really wanted to look any further into it. She turned her attention back to B'Elanna, who was looking uneasily at her. "Please, go ahead."

"I'm not sure how to ask this, or if you would even tell me the truth, but--" B'Elanna paused, looking down at her tightly clasped hands, then glanced at Janeway, her expression troubled. "I need to know what happened earlier in the transporter room."

"I don't think it's a secret. I had a fight with Seska. She insulted me, and I slapped her and knocked her down." Torres's eyes widened, but she didn't say anything. "Fortunately for me, Chakotay showed up in time to stop Seska before she was able to retaliate."

"She threatened you?"

"She drew her phaser and left no doubt she planned to use it." Janeway shrugged. "I think it's probably safe to say that I'm lucky to still be alive."

"I'd call that an understatement. What were you thinking of, to antagonize her when you know how much she despises you?"

"Maybe I didn't realize how much she hated me. Or maybe I was in no mood to listen to her insults. I'm not sure what happened, just that it felt good to attack her. I don't even know why," Janeway said, uneasily aware that she was telling the truth. She still hadn't allowed herself to think about her motivations, or to wonder what they said about her. Starfleet captains don't go around assaulting people, even with good reason, but she had done just that. "Everyone has a breaking point, and maybe I had reached mine."

B'Elanna nodded. "Considering the way she treats you, I suppose it's not hard to understand. I know Chakotay tries to protect you, but he can't watch her every minute." She was back to looking at her hands, picking at a hangnail, a sure sign that something was on her mind and she was having trouble expressing it.

"B'Elanna, what is it you really want know?"

"I--well, okay, I'll just say it. I need to know how you feel about Chakotay." The younger woman's face flushed. "I know you want your ship back, and I don't blame you for that, but you seem to have accepted him, at least outwardly. Do you have any loyalty to him at all, either as your captain, or--"

"Or my lover? Do I seem to you to be the kind of woman who could enter into a relationship like this one without those feelings?" Janeway had no idea what B'Elanna was driving at, and she felt it was best to try to keep her talking.

"I think you would do anything to protect your ship and your crew. It might surprise you to know I find that admirable."

Janeway smiled. "I understand how hard you must have found it to say so. But as for my feelings for Chakotay--I don't know what I feel, and that's the absolute truth. This whole situation has turned our lives upside down, and I think we've all done things which seem incomprehensible, even to ourselves. I can only say that I've given him my trust because I knew it was in all our best interests to do so. Is that what you want to know?" Those words emerged almost without volition--strange, when such a short time ago she had adamantly asserted that she didn't trust him...

Torres nodded.

"Then, will you tell me what's going on? Something is wrong, or you wouldn't be here. Is Chakotay in some danger?" Janeway couldn't think of any other reason why B'Elanna, this B'Elanna, would be asking her such questions. Again, there was that widening of the eyes at her words, and suddenly Janeway knew she had guessed correctly. "Seska?" she breathed. "What is she up to?"

B'Elanna blew her breath out forcefully--this girl was incapable of anything so inconsequential as a sigh--and ran her fingers through her hair. "All right, I'll tell you, since you seem to have guessed anyway. Seska has never been happy about your position on this ship, either as First Officer or as Chakotay's woman, and she's never made any secret of that. But I thought--we all thought--that her loyalty to Chakotay was stronger than any feelings of jealousy she might have."

"And now you've changed your mind about that?"

"She has been acting strangely. Saying things that don't make sense unless she's planning to--I don't know, challenge him somehow. It's all been an attempt to gain support, I think. I don't know how well she's doing, but I've even seen her talking to some of the 'fleeters, people who aren't too happy with you or with Chakotay. People like Tom Paris and the Vulcan, Tuvok. I think she's trying to form alliances." Torres looked at Janeway and shook her head. "Seska is my friend, but sometimes I think I don't know her at all. It's like there's a whole different person inside her, someone I don't understand." Privately, Janeway marveled at B'Elanna's insight. How would she react if told that the unknown person inside Seska was a Cardassian double agent? She knew that now was not the time to reveal it, though. The important thing was- "Oh, damn, Chakotay just went to talk to her, to try to get her to accept an apology from me. You don't think she would do something now, do you?" She looked at B'Elanna, wanting assurance that there was no immediate danger.

B'Elanna chewed her lip, then got to her feet. "I don't know, but I'm going to find out right now." She punched her comm badge. "Torres to Chakotay." There was no response, and the two women exchanged worried glances. B'Elanna tried again, and again received no response. "Computer, locate Captain Chakotay. Security authorization Torres B 1403."

"Captain Chakotay is on Deck 4, cabin 112."

"That's Seska's quarters. I'm going down there." B'Elanna turned to leave, her hand on her phaser.

Janeway reached out and grasped B'Elanna's arm. "I'm coming with you."

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea. If there's something going on, you can't possibly help. You might just make the situation worse."

"This is not just your fight, B'Elanna, it's mine, too. You can't stop me from going, and you're wasting time if you try." Janeway turned quickly away, headed for the door. She didn't look back to see if Torres was following her.

***

In the turbolift, they formulated a plan. Obviously, they couldn't just barge in and demand to know what Seska was up to. B'Elanna was in favor of a major phaser-drawn confrontation, but Janeway managed to convince her that the situation called for an approach which only she could make, especially since they had no idea what, if anything, was happening in Seska's quarters. Even the fact that Chakotay was not answering his hails could be explained if for some reason he had removed his comm badge and left it there, though neither of them could think of a plausible reason why he would do so. Deep down, they were both convinced that Seska was up to something, and they were equally determined to stop her. As she stood at Seska's door, Janeway wondered if Chakotay's silence meant that he was hurt, or worse. At that thought, she felt a coldness wash over her body which was not fear but rather an icy rage. She might not be in perfect charity with him herself, but she vowed that Seska would pay if she had done something to harm him! She glanced to her left, where B'Elanna was concealed around the corner, phaser drawn and ready. B'Elanna nodded, and Janeway brought her hand up to smash the buzzer savagely. Before anyone could answer, she began to pound on the door, making no effort to be quiet about it. "Open the door, damn it! Chakotay, I know you're in there!" Just in case she hadn't been loud enough, she gave the door a good kick. "Seska, open up!"

Since it was midday, most of the other inhabitants of this particular corridor were probably on duty, but a few doors opened and a few heads popped out to see what all the noise was. Without fail, each one ducked back into their quarters when they saw Janeway and heard the accusations she was shouting at the top of her not inconsiderable voice. In spite of the din, however, there was no response from inside the room. Janeway was shouting something about miserable two-timing Indians when B'Elanna caught her eye. She handed Janeway the phaser and pointed to the door lock, turning quickly back to watch the turbolift doors. Janeway raised the weapon and was just about to fire when the door slid open and Chakotay fell out across the threshold. His face was covered with blood, and his hands and feet were tied. He looked up at her, dazed, and she saw that his mouth was covered with tape. How he had ever managed to drag himself to the door, she couldn't imagine. She had just dropped to one knee and was trying to help him sit up when the turbolift doors opened and Seska came dashing out. Without thinking, Janeway raised the phaser and took aim. Seska skidded to a halt, throwing herself sideways around a corner. Behind her, she could hear Chakotay trying to say something to her from behind the tape. She kept her eyes forward, waiting for Seska to make a move, then heard the security officer's low voice calling in reinforcements. It appeared that a full-fledged mutiny was in progress. Janeway glanced at Chakotay, who began nodding his head in the direction of Seska's quarters, evidently wanting her to move back inside the room. She turned to look for Torres, but B'Elanna was gone--had this been an elaborate setup? Somehow, she didn't think so, but maybe it was just that she wanted to believe that B'Elanna had been acting in good faith. Chakotay's eyes were blazing at her, and she decided he was right. As quickly as she could, she hopped backwards over him, pulling him inside with her. Before the door shut, she was yanking at the scarves that tied his hands, then leaving him to work at the knots that bound his ankles. She watched the door, phaser ready, in case Seska should try to burst in, but it seemed that they were safe for the moment. She heard a sharp ripping sound and a groan as Chakotay tore the tape away from his mouth, but her eyes never left the doorway.

"Can we lock this door against her, or has she got complete control of every square inch of the ship?" she asked.

Chakotay didn't respond; he was struggling to his feet, and Janeway rushed over to help him, tripping over the broken pieces of a ceramic vase. She stared down at it as she slipped her arm around his waist to help support him. He grimaced, and paused to wipe the blood out of his eyes, but he stayed erect, only leaning on her until he was sure he could stand. "I guess that's what she hit me with," he said, kicking at the shards. "I never saw it coming. I'm grateful for the rescue attempt, but how did you know something was going on?

"B'Elanna Torres paid me a visit and shared her suspicions about Seska," Janeway replied. "I'm not sure where she is right now. What should we do-head for the bridge?" "B'Elanna would have headed for the bridge as soon as she realized what was happening. Assuming that's the case, Seska will probably not try to fight her for control. I'm betting she'll be looking for hostages, and you and I are probably at the top of her list. So, are you feeling lucky?"

Janeway couldn't hold back a surprised bark of laughter. "Not particularly. What did you have in mind?"

"If we don't do something right now to stop Seska, this could turn into a bloodbath--her people fighting mine--OURS--for control of the ship. I don't want that, and I know you don't either." His eyes caught hers, and she knew from the gleam there that he had come up with some dangerous, foolhardy Maquis plan, something completely contrary to Starfleet protocols, no doubt. "Are you with me?"

"Do I have a choice?" she asked humorously. "Yes, I'm with you."

***

Janeway had grave reservations about his plan. She couldn't believe that Seska would fall for it, but Chakotay insisted that he knew his former lover well enough to be certain she would. Janeway thought again about telling him that Seska was a Cardassian double agent, but there wasn't time, and she wasn't sure she could make him believe her. She was also more than a little concerned that her meager acting skills would prove inadequate to play the part he had designed for her. He had laughed at that, reminding her of her performance at the door to Seska's quarters.

"My Kathryn might have had problems doing this," he had admitted. "She would prefer to remain aloof. She only surrenders begrudgingly to her passions when we're together in bed, and then she hates herself for it afterward." He shook his head, clearly unhappy with the situation. "You're different, though," he had told her. "You're used to being in command, and you're not afraid to take risks. You'll do fine." When she still seemed hesitant, he had lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. Even covered in blood, his sculpted features had the power to move her. His eyes caught and held hers, and he nodded. "You'll do fine," he had repeated, then bent his head and captured her lips in a rough kiss that tasted of blood and passion and need.

Now, Janeway touched her lips, unconsciously taking strength from that kiss. She glanced over at Chakotay, who was sprawled on the floor, his eyes closed. The smears of blood that covered his face and chest gleamed vividly against his dark skin. He was so still, it almost appeared that he wasn't breathing. One hand grasped at the blanket he had pulled halfway off the bed, and it trailed across his arm and torso, as if he had caught at it when he fell. He looked mortally wounded, or worse. The phaser he gripped in his hand was totally invisible, wrapped as it was in the blanket.

Taking a few deep breaths, Janeway punched at her comm badge. "Janeway to Seska." She paused, gritted her teeth, and continued. "Seska, for God's sake, answer me, I think Chakotay's dead!" There was a convincing note of hysteria in her voice.

An annoyed voice answered her. "If he's dead, you must have killed him. What are you trying to pull now?"

"Seska, I'm serious! He seemed all right at first. He had a headache and he was bleeding, but that was all. Then suddenly he just fell down, unconscious." Janeway crossed her fingers and tried out a muffled sob. It sounded surprisingly realistic. "He's not responding, and I can't find a pulse. Please, you've got to do something!"

"Just what do you expect me to do? I'm in the middle of a very important mutiny here." Her snide tone grated on Janeway, who vowed that at the next opportunity she was going to hit the false Bajoran again, much harder. Maybe that opportunity would come soon, if Chakotay was guessing right about her.

"Just beam us to sickbay, that's all. I--" This was going to be hard. "Take the ship, do whatever you want, but don't let him die. I'm begging you." To her surprise, Janeway felt tears welling up, and she swallowed hard.

"This had better not be a trick. I'll meet you in sickbay. Seska out."

Janeway stepped closer to Chakotay, then felt the familiar tingling as the transporter beam locked on to them. A moment later they were in sickbay. As planned, the blanket had transported with them, hiding the phaser. "Activate emergency holographic medical program," she hissed, hoping to have a moment to speak to the doctor before Seska arrived, if she arrived at all. She was still not convinced that Seska would be willing to risk a face-to-face meeting at this point. Surely, her concern now would be with securing the ship? To her surprise, though, the sickbay doors opened and Seska entered just as the doctor materialized, his gaze inquiring. He spotted Chakotay on the floor and elbowed Janeway aside, his tricorder already taking preliminary readings.

"What happened? How was he injured?" he asked brusquely.

Janeway knelt beside the doctor, not allowing Seska to approach. "He was struck by a large blunt object, wielded by a large treacherous woman," she said bitterly, pointing at Seska. "Her."

"I see. I would consider calling a security team to sickbay, except that she IS security," he commented wryly. Janeway stared up at Seska, knowing that Chakotay was relying on her to give him a signal when she felt the time was right for him to act. He was unable to see, especially with the doctor and Janeway crowding around him, and it was unlikely that they would get more than one chance at this. She stared back over her shoulder at Seska, surprised to see a look of concern on the other woman's face.

"I didn't hit him that hard. He's not--dead, is he?" The drawn phaser wobbled, forgotten, in her hand as she bent forward, trying to see past the doctor. Her eyes never leaving Seska, Janeway reached down to touch Chakotay's shoulder. She hesitated a moment, then squeezed, hard.

The next few moments went by in a blur. Having given the signal, Janeway turned and dove, knocking the phaser out of Seska's hand. Chakotay sprang upwards, tearing the blanket away from his weapon and knocking the doctor to the side. As Janeway groped on the floor for the fallen phaser, he leveled his weapon at Seska's chest. Her hand had raised to her comm badge.

"Touch it and you die," he said, his voice a low growl. Seska stared at him for a moment, then her hand lowered. She had taken her one chance to seize control of Voyager and then thrown it away out of concern for the man who now stood before her, face covered with dried blood and eyes full of contempt. She stared back bitterly, knowing that he had known exactly how she would react, hating him for it, and hating herself for being so foolish as to fall in love with him. Her Cardassian blood chilled as she reflected on her own frailty, but her woman's heart was sore. This was not her fault, or even his--it was that damned interfering bitch Janeway who was to blame, for chasing them in her fancy Federation ship, for offering them friendship and taking them aboard Voyager (the fool!) when they had been catapulted into the Delta Quadrant, and especially for stealing the man who had been content with HER until he had met this woman, with her uniform, and her bun, and her arrogant ways. Her always fragile temper chose that moment to snap, and with a cry she turned and flung herself at Janeway, no longer caring about the phaser aimed at her breast. The two women went down in a heap, locked together, the phaser Janeway had just located skidding out of the pile to rest at the feet of the doctor, who was watching with keen interest. He bent down and picked up the weapon, then turned to Chakotay.

"Which one do I shoot?" he asked quizzically.

***

Several hours later, Janeway dragged her bruised, weary body out of the shower. Everything hurt, even her hair where Seska had grabbed hold of it, determined to tear it from her scalp. It had taken the combined efforts of Chakotay and the doctor to separate the two hissing, spitting women. If Chakotay hadn't taken another blow to the head that reopened the cut over his eye, the fight might have lasted even longer. She ran her fingers through her damp hair, wincing, remembering how much blood there had been on the sickbay floor in the aftermath of the whole debacle--some of it hers, some of it Seska's, but most of it Chakotay's. Seeing this, she had been worried, but the doctor had assured her that the wounds were not serious thanks to their captain's abnormally thick skull. Janeway had been outraged, but Chakotay had laughed at the doctor's remark, then bent over to whisper in her ear that HE was the captain of this Voyager, not her. As if she could have forgotten that! She studied her face in the mirror, seeing that the doctor had repaired the damage to her face quite well, but knowing that there would be new bruises in the morning. She sighed, shrugging into a soft blue silk nightgown. First thing tomorrow, Chakotay had promised they would look at the transporter logs. With any luck, by tomorrow night, she would be back on her own ship, ready to climb into her own bed. Alone.

She went into the bedroom. The lights were low, and there was no movement from the bed. Chakotay had showered earlier, and it appeared that he was already asleep. She breathed another sigh, not sure if it was relief that she felt, or something else.

They had argued, before, about several things. Who on his crew should be informed about the transporter malfunction; who on her crew could be trusted to assist B'Elanna in interrogating Seska's supporters; where he was going to sleep tonight; even who got to use the shower first. Janeway had lost every argument except the last one, as she had vetoed his suggestion that they shower together. Having come out victorious on every other point, he hadn't pressed that one. So, here she was, about to crawl into bed with the man she still thought of as her first officer. It seemed unreal. It WAS unreal--so why was she suddenly so nervous?

"Are you going to stand there all night, or are you coming to bed?" He sounded amused, which irritated her so much that she yanked the covers back and flung herself into the bed, heedless of her injuries and his. She felt almost gratified at his hiss of pain, but was instantly sorry as her own body also protested. She settled back against the pillows, aware that the bed was not really big enough for them to sleep together without touching. She turned on her side, away from him, trying to stay as close to the edge as she could, but she could sense him there behind her, could hear him breathing and feel the heat from his body warming the silk of her nightgown. It was a most disconcerting sensation.

"How do you feel?" he asked softly, settling his arm across her waist.

"I'm fine. Well, not fine, but much better. Just tired." She gave a mental groan, wondering how it was possible that the cool, controlled Kathryn Janeway could sound like such a ninny. "How do you feel?"

"All things considered, not bad. It's been an eventful day." His hand was moving now, lightly stroking her lower back.

"You have a gift for understatement," she replied, trying not to notice how good it felt. "I expect that tomorrow will be, too, so maybe we should try to get some sleep."

He gave a little snort of laughter at her words, and his hand slid down to cup her hip. "What are you trying to tell me, Kathryn? Remember I'm just a big dumb Indian. I don't respond well to nuances." She sensed that he had lifted up on one elbow behind her, and she imagined him propping his head with his hand, looking down at her with that devastatingly attractive grin lighting his features. The other hand continued to touch her, sliding the soft material back and forth across her hip. She determinedly ignored it. Or tried to.

"I never called you a big dumb Indian. I think I said 'low-down, cheating Indian,' but I didn't really mean it. It was just part of my acting job."

"A very convincing performance, I thought. You sounded so jealous, I was almost afraid to face you." His hand moved up across her back, his fingers toying with the thin strap of her nightgown. "I had no idea you were such a talented actress."

"Oh, well, I--you do what you have to do." Lame. VERY lame.

"Mmhmm. Still, some of the stuff you said sounded sincere. I enjoyed the part later on when you begged Seska to save my life. Telling her that the ship didn't matter to you was a nice touch. And then there was that bit this morning, something you said to Seska about being pregnant, wasn't it?"

"Uhh--you heard about that? That wasn't my idea, I just played along with it when Ensign Bolari implied..." She stopped, wondering what his random comments were leading up to.

"It's an interesting thought, though, isn't it? I suppose that it's not outside the realm of possibility, considering how frequently we--"

Janeway pulled away, turning to face Chakotay. "Look, I'm really not interested in hearing about your sex life. And I can assure you that I--or any of the 'I's in any other parallel world--would not be foolish enough to allow myself to get pregnant!" Sure enough, there was that grin. There was just enough starlight coming through the viewport over the bed for her to see it. Had she ever noticed before that he had such nice dimples? Probably not. Her Chakotay was not given to smiling much...

"So, who do you sleep with, back there in your universe?" The grin had faded, and he was regarding her seriously, as if the answer mattered to him. For a second, Janeway considered telling him about Mark, but Mark was seventy thousand light years away. "No one. And it's fine." Brave words, but were they true?

He shook his head. "It's not fine, it's a tragic waste. What's wrong with him, that he hasn't made you his woman?"

"Him?"

"Me--Chakotay--your first officer," he explained. "Or is that it? He can't approach you because you're his captain?"

"Well, that's probably true, but--" Janeway bit her lip. "No, nothing has happened because he doesn't--we don't feel anything for each other."

"Are you sure about that?" He reached out and ran his fingers through the long hair that trailed down across her shoulder. "Maybe he wants you as much as I want you. Maybe it's all he can think about." His hand brushed her breast, and Janeway felt her nipple instantly spring erect. "And maybe you should stop waiting for him to make the first move. You're the captain. Be bold. Seize the moment." His hand closed on her breast.

Janeway's eyes widened. She knew a momentary instinct to pull away, but the subtle pressure of his fingers felt so good--so right--that she hesitated, just long enough for him to bend forward and take her mouth in a passionate kiss. She felt her arms lifting of their own accord, one hand grasping his shoulder and the other reaching behind his head to toy with the lock of hair that grew there. His lips were unexpectedly gentle against hers, his tongue lightly teasing them until her mouth opened to let him in. She sensed that he was holding back, perhaps because this was new to her or else in consideration for her injuries, and she found this side of him completely in accord with the Chakotay she knew. But there was something more--his kisses were familiar to her, that was it--as if, somehow, somewhere, she had known and loved him before. Was it possible that such feelings could transcend the barriers of space and time, then? Had she sensed that in some other plane of existence, they were lovers? She shook her head at that, dislodging his lips. He pulled back to look at her, eyes shadowed with desire, and Janeway found herself studying his face. Her fingers traced the colored lines of his tattoo. This version was bolder, more elaborate, but no less pleasing to the eye. She ran her thumb gently across his cheekbone, wondering how many hours of agony he had endured to receive it, and although she didn't voice the question, he answered her.

"I don't remember much about it. The ceremony takes many hours, and the air was thick with smoke and heavy with different psychotropic herbs. It was like a waking dream, where you feel the pain, but at a distance. All I can really recall is the drums and the chanting. And afterwards, how different I felt. And looked." He smiled in remembrance. "I wasn't sure that it improved my face."

"It's beautiful," Janeway assured him. "You're beautiful." She bent her head, her lips brushing the contour of his cheek, tracing the same path her fingers had taken. She heard his breathing grow ragged as her tongue swept across his temple, and then he was rolling backwards, pulling her with him. He's naked, she realized for the first time, and she momentarily regretted the clingy silk that prevented her from feeling his skin against hers. Again, he seemed to read her thoughts; his hands began pulling at the nightgown, which stubbornly clung to her. One foot caught in the hem, and the more she shifted around to try to help him, the more entangled she became. He blew his breath out in frustration and hooked both hands in the loose neckline of the gown. One quick tear, and it was falling down to her waist. She lifted her hips and felt it slide away, and then there was silk of another sort beneath her, warm, living skin the color of creamy coffee. Janeway pressed against him, loving the smoothness of his chest under her hands. He seemed content to let her explore him, and she did, with hands and lips. It was an enchanted moment, as if she had conjured him up out of some half-forgotten dream, or perhaps from the pages of one of the old history books, and she decided that for one night she could pretend that he was someone else, someone dark and mysterious. The shadowy starlight helped, as did the difference in the tattoo and the long hair that fell across the pillow. It was only when he spoke, murmuring her name in the familiar voice of her first officer, that the illusion was shattered. She rolled away from him, pushing him back with outstretched arms when he tried to pull her closer.

"I can't, Chakotay. It's not right for me, not the 'me' who has to go back to being your captain," she said haltingly. "I won't pretend that I don't want you, but the reality of my world tells me that I can't have you." Her eyes scanned his face, hoping to see understanding or, at least, acceptance. Instead she saw need and defiance, and realized that this Chakotay had never been forced to curb his habit of command, nor to answer to her for anything. His hands closed around her wrists, pinning her arms to her sides as he leaned over her, his jaw tight with anger.

He looked at her for a long time without speaking, letting her wonder what he meant to do. Would he take her by force? Her fight with Seska had depleted her strength, and she had no doubt that he would prevail should he try. But surely, no Chakotay on any plane of existence could do that to a woman, not even this one, who for all his "swaggering bully" ways still seemed so much like her first officer. She remembered the way he had wrestled with her earlier in this same bed, recalling the amused gleam that had been in his eyes and knowing somehow that for all his macho posturing, he had never been any more violent with his Janeway than he had been with her that morning. The realization must have shown in her eyes, because he frowned fiercely, then abruptly let her loose and fell back onto his side of the bed.

"Sometimes I curse the day I met you, Kathryn," he muttered. "It will never change between us, will it? You'll never bend or allow yourself to soften toward me. I wonder what you would do if I just handed your ship back to you. I suppose you would calmly escort me to the brig and let me rot there for the next seventy-odd years." Janeway looked at him in surprise, and he caught her glance, a mirthless smile bending the corners of his lips. "What is it, are you surprised to learn that your counterpart is as stubborn as you are?"

"She makes you pay for your sins against her, doesn't she?"

"In new ways, every day."

"So, why do you put up with it? You don't seem the type to accept such abuse. I think even my stoic first officer would have rebelled long ago, if I had treated him so badly." Janeway smiled to herself, remembering the times when Chakotay had found himself in disagreement with her. He had a very subtle way of "requesting permission to speak freely," a phrase which always indicated to her that he found her logic, or her methods, lacking.

"Why? Because you're right, I did sin against her. I took her ship with an old Maquis trick, after she had given me her trust. She will never forgive me for that, and I don't blame her." He shook his head. "I've tried to make it up to her, but every concession I make seems to somehow make the situation worse. She--my Kathryn Janeway is a defeated Starfleet captain first, and a woman last."

Janeway sat up, hugging her knees, trying to imagine how she would feel, and knowing to her own sorrow that she was capable of great vindictiveness, and of spiting herself for the sake of a principle. The thought of losing Voyager, even to someone like Chakotay, was abhorrent to her, so much so that she realized she would have behaved just as--well, just as she had. Did that mean she was unable to bend, as he had said? Was she going off on her own headstrong path, unwilling to adapt and change as the circumstances warranted? Was she really that rigid?

"I don't like this picture you paint of me," she admitted. "I don't want to believe that I'm capable of such behavior, but I know that I probably am. And I have to ask you again, why do you put up with it?"

"Because you're the rock, and I'm the river, and I know that eventually the river wins," he said. "At least, I tell myself that. Sometimes I even believe it."

Janeway frowned, unable to follow his analogy. "What happens when the river defeats the rock?"

He leaned around her to take her hand, raising it to kiss her palm. Janeway couldn't conceal the purely sensual shiver that ran through her at his touch. He saw it, and his half-smile deepened, but he hadn't forgotten her question. "Life happens. Instead of barren rock, there's fertile soil there, and out of the conflict, a beautiful valley is born."

His answer humbled her in some indecipherable way. She had never doubted his mystic nature, but on some level it had always made her uncomfortable. For the first time, she envied his simple insight into complex issues, and she reflected that it made more sense to emulate the river, conquering even the mightiest of rocks with time and patience.

"I wonder what Commander Chakotay is doing right now," she mused. "Do you suppose he's talking about rocks with his new Captain?"

"Maybe, though I suppose they aren't doing it in bed with all their clothes off, unless she's decided she misses me." His tone was light, but Janeway sensed a certain wistfulness there.

"With all due respect, Chakotay, your Janeway is a fool," she responded, not stopping to consider the paradox involved in her statement. "She has no idea how to handle this situation, or to make it better for herself or her crew. Frankly, I'm not surprised you were able to trick her into turning the ship over to you. What I don't understand is why you don't throw HER in the brig."

"Because for all her flaws, she's still the most beautiful and intriguing woman I've ever met," Chakotay said hesitantly. "And I would rather share this adventure with her, even unhappily, than go on alone." He sighed, then released her hand and lay back against the pillows, seemingly readying himself for sleep.

Janeway's thoughts were in turmoil. It had been a long, confusing, painful day, and the physical pain suddenly seemed the very least of it. She realized that she didn't want it to end this way, in sadness and frustration and lack of hope. Chakotay, for all HIS flaws, didn't deserve that, and neither did she, but she had no idea how to start over. Of course, another stumbling block, directly caused by her unwillingness to admit to anyone that she had needs--! She reflected on the problem, then found herself thinking of Chakotay's usual approach to any difficulty. He looked at it, gave it a name, and tried to make it his own; if he failed, he called it a learning experience and went on. She took a deep breath and decided to give it a try.

"Chakotay, I want to make love with you." Her voice sounded tremulous, but at least it hadn't emerged as an order! She shut her eyes, waiting for his response, almost dreading it. He said nothing, and she heard the sharp indrawn breath he took, and felt the sudden tension in his body. His head must have turned toward her, because his breath stirred in her hair, but still he was silent, and she was nearly ready to turn away in mortification when finally he reached for her, his arms pulling her closer. He kissed her eyelids, bent to brush a glancing kiss across her lips, and then dropped his head down onto her bare shoulder. She heard him swallow hard and felt the tension in him drain away.

"You have no idea how long I have waited for those words, Kathryn," he murmured. "I thought that I would probably never hear them."

"Shall I tell you a secret? I know her pretty well," she confided, enjoying the feel of his laughter against her neck. "And I can guarantee you that every day you've been together, she has had to struggle with herself to keep those words unsaid."

"I appreciate the sentiment, but maybe you'll want to reserve judgment on that until after we've made love."

"Oh, no, I think that this is going to be one of those nights to remember." She kissed the side of his forehead, which was all she could reach. "Unless you plan to just lie there and bask in my words forever--?"

"Actually, no, I was planning to do this." He raised himself up, opening her knees and sliding between them. She could see that he was already--still?--erect. He was incredibly beautiful to her prejudiced eye, and she felt her own juices starting to flow for him even before he began to touch her intimately, his fingers finding exactly the right spots, using the perfect teasing pressure--! But of course, though it might be new to her, he'd done this before, and he was the sort of man who would make it a point to learn all the little things that were guaranteed to drive her wild with desire. It seemed mere seconds passed before she was writhing with a need she couldn't begin to express.

"Please," was all she managed to say, but it was enough. He took his hand away, and she felt his mouth, teasing her, nipping gently at the very core of her desire, his tongue a soft revelation to her long dormant senses. He kissed her deeply and she felt the sudden ripples begin, the familiar elevator-drop sensation deep in the pit of her stomach that signaled her release. He seemed to sense it, too, and he quickly, smoothly, raised himself up above her, thrusting into her a half-second before she came. She exploded around him, the sensation made even more intense by the feel of him inside her, hot and hard and pressing against her womb. She clung to him, her hips grinding into his, her movements uncoordinated until he gently took control. His hands soothed her, caressing her shoulders and her arms with long, calming strokes, while his hips began to move in the same slow rhythm. Her frantic movements subsided and she lay beneath him quietly, half-mesmerized. He kissed her and she could taste herself on his lips, and see herself in his dark eyes before his lashes drooped closed and the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and demanding. She felt her body beginning to awaken again, tiny shivers of excitement racing through her in shining waves, as his hands began to move restlessly, touching her breasts, weaving through her hair, gripping her thigh, tunneling under her to cup her bottom. He began to lose that hypnotic rhythm, his thrusts now coming harder and stronger, his moans more anguished. She ran her hands through his hair, which was slicked to his head with sweat, then tangled her fingers in the long tail that fell forward over his shoulder. She held onto it for dear life, knowing by the rising tension in him that he was close to climax. Her own excitement seemed to feed on his, and they rushed forward together in a dance older than time. Above the thunder of their two hearts, she heard him groan out her name just at the moment he came, his voice made rough with passion, and she answered him with a wordless cry of fulfillment.

Later, though how much later neither of them could say, Chakotay lifted his head from her breast, carefully peeled her fingers from their death grip on his hair, and grinned at her ruefully. "I kept telling myself to be gentle with you, that you had endured enough rough treatment for one day. I wanted to soothe your hurts, not make them worse."

"You have soothed my hurts in ways you can't begin to imagine," she told him as her fingers raised up to trace the curve of his mouth. He appeared slightly battered and completely exhausted, and she doubted that she looked any better, though his eyes rested on her with approval, her words pleasing him even if he couldn't quite bring himself to believe them.

"Tell me that again tomorrow morning, and I'll know you really mean it," he said wryly. Janeway knew that she would do just that, even if she had to lie.

***

"It's too dangerous," Chakotay said firmly. "I won't allow you to try it. Even if your Voyager is in place right now, we can't direct the beam. You might materialize outside the hull or inside the warp core. And who knows whether we can beam you at exactly the right second, anyway? I won't risk it."

Janeway glanced at Chakotay, noting the rigid set to his shoulders and the frown darkening his brow. She looked across the console at B'Elanna Torres, mutely requesting her assistance.

"I know it sounds impossible, but this vortex or rift we've discovered is really very stable. Think of it as a doorway between the two parallel universes. Periodically, the door opens, and for a brief time there's a clear passageway between our plane and--and Captain Janeway's." B'Elanna had had no problem accepting Janeway's story, and she had eagerly assisted with the search of the transporter logs that had taken place earlier that day. When no anomalies had been detected in the logs, it had been she who suggested that they make the short return trip to Tellurius. A few hours later, Voyager was back in orbit above the Tellurian capital, and all the ship's resources had been used to finally locate the source of the problem, a tiny but detectable rift in the continuum. The Tellurians had known nothing about it; apparently, it was sheer dumb luck which had caused her matter stream to pass through the vortex at the precise time that the "door" had been open, allowing her to materialize on the Maquis Voyager, and sending her counterpart to her own Voyager.

"I understand the principle," Chakotay said gruffly. "What I don't accept is that it can be done twice. You're taking it on faith that the other Voyager will be doing exactly what we've done, and they're just sitting there on the other side waiting for the door to open again. How do you know that they didn't go back sometime yesterday while we were involved in Seska's mutiny? If they have the same theory we do, they might have already tried to beam Janeway back, and failed." He did not try to hide the anguish in his voice.

B'Elanna took one look at her captain's face, then lowered her gaze to the computer display on her console, made uncomfortable by his emotion. Although she had known of his feelings for Janeway, he had never allowed them to show quite so openly before. "Now, wait," she said hesitantly. "Let's assume that they would have felt the same concerns we do. It's not very likely that they would have just transported her over here without thinking about it first, and coming up with all the same objections that you've just mentioned."

"B'Elanna's right," Janeway interjected. "Maybe they have been there for a while, waiting for--" her voice broke off as a thought struck her. Her fingers raced over the keypads, searching for the calculations they had done earlier, trying to establish the exact times at which the door had opened. "Here it is--the passageway opens every 3.25 hours, and it remains open for 78.2 seconds. That's long enough, definitely!"

"Long enough for what?" Chakotay asked.

"Long enough for us to shine a light through and see what's on the other side," Janeway said triumphantly. "If a transporter beam can pass through, surely a microprobe can as well. We'll configure it to perform a scan once it's through, and there will be plenty of time to relay the telemetry back to us before the hole closes again. If we pick up Voyager's energy signature from the other side, we'll know they've reached the same conclusions we have. And it will be safe to transport me back the next time the portal opens, because they'll locate the beam and lock onto it from their end."

B'Elanna nodded. "Or we could even send them a message with the probe to tell them when we intend to try to send you back through."

Both women bent their heads over the console now as Chakotay watched helplessly, knowing that all his objections were not going to change their minds. His hands clenched into fists as he considered the rashness of the plan, reflecting bitterly on the consequences should their attempt be unsuccessful. Not only would he be the target of a second mutiny, this time from the much larger Starfleet contingent, but he would be facing a future without Kathryn, the woman--both the women--he loved. Surely there had to be one more argument he hadn't tried yet, one more chance to convince her to stay. There was.

"What if she doesn't want to come back?"

"What?" Janeway looked up, distracted. "What did you say?"

"Think about it," he said. "She has her ship back now. From what you've told me, conditions are a lot more harmonious there, the two crews are getting along, and I'm her first officer. She can spend the rest of her life putting me through hell for what I did to her here. Why would she want to give that up?" He grinned at her, sure that he had stumbled onto the truth.

Janeway reached out and touched Chakotay's bare arm where it rested on the console, her fingertips caressing the smooth dark skin. "Because she knows her place is here with you," she said earnestly.

His smile faded, and he stared down at her. B'Elanna sneaked a peek at them and it seemed to her that a silent communication was taking place, one in which truths were revealed, and goodbyes were said. Neither of them spoke.

"Well, we'll know for sure in about 35 minutes. That's when the portal opens again," the engineer commented, her fingers already at work configuring the microprobe.

***

Janeway had chosen to wait in her quarters until it was time to go. The probe had done its job, just as she had known it would. They now knew that her Voyager waited on the other side of the doorway, that somewhere close by the other Janeway was facing the same challenge that she did, that of stepping onto the transporter platform and allowing herself to be beamed--home. It was hard not to feel terror at the thought, hard not to decide to stay here with the man whose very essence permeated the room in which she now stood even though he himself was not present. She looked around, noticing the medicine bundle thrown casually on a chair, the beaded vest hanging in the open door of her closet, and the discarded boot, much too large to be hers, peeking out from under the bed. On the table beside her, a flat rock lay. She picked it up, her finger tracing the symbols Chakotay had laboriously carved onto it, and wondered what they meant. She would have to remember to ask him later. But, then, maybe in her universe, this stone didn't exist, or more likely, it was in a place she would never enter. No, probably she would never get a chance to ask.

"It's a prayer." She hadn't heard the door open, but somehow Chakotay was standing beside her.

"What does it say?"

"I can't tell you that. It's a private prayer, and if I repeat it to you, it will never be heard or answered." He took the stone from her hands and looked down at it, his face unreadable.

Janeway nodded, not knowing what to say to him, then turned and looked around the room one more time, searching for something, anything to talk about. Her gaze rested on the bed, and she couldn't keep her thoughts from returning to the time they had spent there together. After their wildly passionate lovemaking, she had fallen deeply asleep, so exhausted that she barely moved for the rest of the night, and he had awakened her that morning with kisses so soft and gentle that she had thought she was still dreaming. They had made love again, a long, slow, rapturous joining of such sweetness that it had made her weep with sheer joy. She had never imagined that something as basic and elemental as sex could also be such a transcendent experience--but then, in all her varied past, she had never made love with a man like Chakotay before, a man who so perfectly embodied both flesh and spirit. She wondered how she was going to be able to return to the formal relationship which she enjoyed with the Chakotay of her universe, the one who was not her lover. Would she look at his stoic expression and find herself remembering the joy on his face when she lay beneath him, their bodies joined and their hearts beating in the same rhythm? Could she spend her days as his captain and her nights alone, dreaming of his kisses? Of course she could not. "I will have to forget," she murmured soundlessly.

"And will that be so easy?" The soft words taunted her.

She glared at him, the ease with which he could read her mind both terrifying and angering her. "How do you do that? It's as if you're inside my head, listening to my thoughts. I don't like it at all. And I definitely won't miss it."

"What makes you think you're leaving it behind? If I can do it, he can, too."

"No, I'm sure he can't. He's never said anything to even remotely suggest that he can."

Chakotay shrugged. "It's not the saying that makes a thing so," he pointed out. "He may not feel free to speak to you until you give him that right."

"Well, it's a moot point, isn't it?" Janeway turned to face him. "I won't be giving him that right or any others outside of those he's entitled to by virtue of his Starfleet field commission."

"His Starfleet field commission is as worthless as the promises the Federation made to my people, Kathryn. If you do manage to get back to your Alpha Quadrant, he'll be working in a dilithium mine for the rest of his life. Is that what you want for him--for me?"

"He's been pardoned for whatever crimes he committed as a Maquis. That's what a field commission means. When we get back, he'll be offered a place in Starfleet, not sent to a penal colony or a dilithium mine," she protested. "Do you honestly believe that I would let them do anything to hurt him?"

He smiled. "So you do care for him, then? Even if he's a swaggering bully with a pirate complex?"

Janeway smiled, too, but her eyes were sad. "I know you won't believe this, but he's not like that. He's not like you."

"Of course he's like me--he IS me, in different circumstances. He may have chosen not to show you his true nature, but now you know who and what Chakotay really is." The pride with which he said the words was evident. Janeway's eyes caressed him from the spiky short hair that grew away from his high forehead down across his bare chest to the tight-fitting buckskins that molded to his thighs. She tried and failed to imagine her first officer looking like this, looking at her like this, his eyes making her a heated promise. "All you have to do is look at him, Kathryn. You might be surprised by what you see." He set the prayer stone down, then came around the table and took her hand, leading her unresistingly over to the bed. "We have two hours to wait. Let's not waste it with talking," he murmured in her ear, his hands already busy pulling the pins from her hair.

Afterward, when they had dressed and were nearly ready to go down to the transporter room, Janeway caught his arm. "Wait," she told him, her voice sated with his loving. She reached up and caught hold of the flowing lock of black hair that fell down between his shoulders. "Don't you want me to braid this for you?"

Home. It looked exactly like the transporter room she had been in a moment ago when B'Elanna had responded to her command to "energize." Janeway had just had time for one last look at Chakotay before her eyes blurred and the transporter converted her matter into energy. The process was over so quickly that she thought that it had failed, that she was still on the Maquis Voyager, but then she realized that the small room was jammed with crew members who had not been there before. Harry Kim, Tom Paris and Tuvok all stood ready to greet her, but it seemed that they were unsure that she was herself. B'Elanna smiled at her from behind the console, but she, too, looked less than certain that the transfer had been successful. Finally, Janeway stepped down from the platform and nodded at her anxious crew.

"Yes, it's me," she assured them, whereupon Harry let out a most un-Starfleet-like cheer and Tom's face lit up with a wide smile. Even Tuvok appeared pleased at her words. Everyone crowded around, all talking at once, anxious to welcome her back. She caught bits and pieces of the conversation and did her best to respond. Kes came racing in, and she found herself being borne away to the galley, where Neelix had put together an impromptu "welcome home" party. It seemed she had been missed, at least by most of her crew. As she half-listened to Tom telling her a funny story about the "other" Captain Janeway, she decided that she could spend the next few days catching up on all the details which no doubt everyone would be dying to relate to her. She would certainly be pressed to tell them about her experiences, as well, and she would have to put together an "edited" version of the truth for them. But now, at this moment, it seemed impossible to concentrate on all that. Her eyes kept straying to the doors, and the same question kept repeating itself in her mind--where was Chakotay? Too busy with his duties to come and greet his captain? Too embarrassed by stories told to him by her alter ego to be able to face her? Or was it just that it didn't matter to him that she was back? Her thoughts found their way back through the portal, then, wondering how the Chakotay of that universe was feeling right now. Perhaps he and his Janeway would be able to work their problems out now that Seska was in the brig and out of the picture, and--and how foolish of her, to feel a pang of jealousy at that thought, as if it were possible to be jealous of one's own self!

Then, suddenly, a quiet voice intruded on her thoughts. "Welcome home, Captain," Chakotay said from behind her.

She turned to face her first officer, aware that her palms were sweating and her heart was hammering in her breast. "Thank you, Commander. It's good to be back," she managed to say as her eyes traveled over his familiar features. He looked so different in the maroon and black uniform, which suited his dark coloring but appeared somber when her mind's eye still pictured him bare-chested, in buckskins. His tattoo, which she had always found distracting, barely registered now, used as she had become to the bolder pattern on his counterpart's face. She glanced up at his hair, regretting the missing braid. It had been outrageous, but also romantic and sexy, and she wondered how long it had been since he had chosen to cut it so severely short, and why he had done it.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there when you returned. Just as the portal opened, we had a gel pack failure on Deck Four, and I thought I should take a look at it to make sure it was nothing serious," he explained.

"Not the gel packs again," she commented. "What was wrong?"

"Nothing, really, it turned out that a maintenance crew had been working in the Jeffries tube near the gel pack, and somehow deactivated it. I reset the system, and everything is fine."

"Good. Thank you." Janeway found herself looking down, studying the toes of his boots, and she realized that she had not yet dared to make eye contact with him. She recalled the words he had spoken to her earlier that day, back in that other universe. 'All you have to do is look at him, Janeway. You might be surprised at what you see.' And, yesterday, how had he put it? 'You're the captain. Be bold. Seize the moment.' Easy enough to say, but so very hard to do... Better to just leave it, she decided, allowing her eyes to close.

"What's wrong?" His hand closed on her forearm. Had Chakotay, this one, ever touched her before? Janeway couldn't remember.

"Nothing," she said hastily. "I suppose I'm just tired. It was an eventful trip."

"I would like to hear about it. From what you--the other Captain said, things are very different there."

"You have no idea," she said, a half-smile curving her lips. "I'm not sure how much I should tell you. It might give you ideas I would rather you didn't have."

"Don't worry, I'm not planning on leading a mutiny against you," he assured her, accompanying his words with a little squeeze of her arm. "Though I wonder..."

"What?"

"Well, what did you think of me? As a captain, I mean."

Janeway's smile widened. "You were magnificent," she said, finally raising her eyes to meet his. He appeared startled, his cheeks taking on a dusky hue and his eyes widening. She thought that he would look away, but those dark obsidian eyes remained locked with hers, and she felt his hand tighten its grip on her arm.

"Captain, I need you right now," Neelix's voice intruded. "I've prepared a very special treat for your homecoming. It's a Reticulan flaming punch and you're just going to love it, but I want you to have the honor of igniting the first batch."

Janeway sighed, her gaze reluctantly turning away from the questions she saw in Chakotay's eyes. "Very well, Mister Neelix. Point me to the punch." She turned to go, then glanced back over her shoulder at her first officer. He grinned at her and she saw the dimples in his cheeks deepen, the ones she hadn't noticed before. There were a great many things about him that she hadn't noticed before, of course, and her new awareness of him as a man was bound to change that. Maybe a personal relationship with him was out of the question (it was, wasn't it?), but surely there was no harm in getting to know him better. "Seize the moment," she murmured softly, then stepped back toward him. "Chakotay, I was wondering, since you want to hear more about the other universe--I mean, well--" God, the ninny was back! She stopped and cleared her throat. "Would you like to join me for dinner tonight in my quarters?"

"I would be honored, Cap--" Chakotay stopped in mid-syllable, his eyes darting a question her way. She nodded. "Kathryn." He reached out and gently but firmly turned her back toward the impatient Talaxian. "Go on now. Your punch awaits you." His soft, low voice seemed to Janeway to promise her that something even better than Reticulan flaming punch might lie in her future.

All things considered, it was good to be home.