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Making Up is Hard to Do

Summary: Fic prompt: Make-up sex.


Characters: Janeway, Chakotay

Codes: Janeway/Chakotay


Disclaimer: Characters are Paramount’s. No infringement intended.


Rated T


He strode into the ready room and came to a halt directly in front of her desk. “Reporting as ordered, Captain.”

Kathryn looked up from her padd. He stood at full attention, jaw clenched and eyes fixed on a point about three feet above her head. “At ease, Chakotay,” she suggested, amusement low in her voice.

He adopted the at-ease posture but relaxed not a whit.

Kathryn sighed. “You’re still angry with me.”

“Of course not,” he gritted out. “It’s inappropriate for a subordinate to be angry with his captain for repeatedly ignoring his advice – as well as three different Starfleet regulations and seven sub-regulations – so she can undertake a dangerous mission alone.”

“Ah,” she said. She got up from her seat and came around the desk, resting her hip on the edge and looking up into his face. “If it makes you feel any better, Tuvok has already taken me to task for my reckless behaviour, as he terms it.”

Chakotay snorted.

Kathryn raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

Finally he tilted his head down to look at her, and she almost recoiled – almost – from his thunderous glare. “You think that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

She ratcheted up her own glare in response. “Watch your tone, Commander.”

“My apologies, Captain.” A muscle flexed in his jaw. “I’ll remember to watch my tone next time you fly a shuttle into an unstable nebula that causes a warp core breach. I’ll remember to watch my tone next time you’re transported to sickbay in critical condition.”

His voice had started rising, and Kathryn reached out to place a hand on his arm, but he jerked away, pacing away from the desk.

“I’ll remember to watch my tone the next time I’m forced to take command of your bridge instead of waiting by the bedside of the woman I love to find out if she’s going to live or die!” He came to an abrupt stop in front of her, breathing heavily, hands bunched into fists at his side.

“Chakotay,” she whispered.

Chakotay raked a hand through his hair. “Do you have any idea how worried I was, Kathryn? When the Doctor told me he was rushing you into emergency surgery and couldn’t give me your prognosis –”

She launched herself at him, stopping his words with a feverish, desperate kiss. He gave a brief grunt of surprise, but then his arms wrapped around her, hauling her as close to his body as he could. Kathryn moaned, one hand in his hair holding him to her, the other working its way beneath his jacket and flattening against the warm smooth skin of his back. As she squirmed, trying to get even closer to him, he cupped his hand under her behind and lifted her, her legs twining around his hips as he stumbled toward her desk.

Padds, coffee cups and a vase of flowers went crashing to the deck as he shoved her onto the desk’s surface. Their hands scrabbled desperately with zippers and fasteners. She kicked off her boots, used her toes to hook the waistband of his pants and push them over his hips; he yanked off her jacket and struggled impatiently with the fastener of her trousers, growling in frustration when their closeness prevented him from removing them.

“Let me up,” she gasped, wriggling to stand and tugging off her own pants with trembling hands. Their hands knocked and tangled as they wrestled with their own clothing and each other’s. Kathryn had managed to peel off one leg of her pants; Chakotay bent to strip off the other and lost his balance, crashing backward onto the deck and tripping Kathryn as he went. She landed on his chest, one elbow in his solar plexus.

Chakotay muffled a curse.

“Sorry,” she managed, struggling to get to her knees, but he curled an arm around her hips and brought her back down, his mouth capturing hers as he rolled them. She winced as his knee dug into her calf and shoved the heel of her hand against his shoulder, pushing him over onto his back.

“Fuck,” he growled as his shoulder came into hard contact with the stairs that led to the upper level.

Kathryn scrambled to her feet and kicked off her remaining pant leg. “Couch,” she panted, plucking at his arm. He pushed up from the floor and lunged for her, bringing her down at the top of the stairs. Chakotay groaned as the edge of the step bit into his shin.

Kathryn giggled, shuffling backward on her elbows, and Chakotay’s grin became feral. “Come here.”

“Come and get me,” she taunted. He took one great step and tripped over his own half-mast pants, catching his shoulder on the coffee table on the way down.

Crash went the small ornamental bowl as it flew off the table, and Kathryn burst into laughter, falling helplessly onto the couch.

“Evil woman,” Chakotay muttered, rubbing his shoulder as he staggered over to the couch and dragged her into his arms.

“But you love me anyway,” she whispered breathlessly, the words hitching into a moan as his mouth latched onto her neck.

For the next several minutes they managed to avoid injuring themselves or each other despite wrestling for the dominant position, with Kathryn ending up triumphantly on top. But as she sank down onto him and his hands clamped onto her hips, Chakotay decided this was one fight he didn’t mind losing.

Afterwards, Chakotay lay back and held her close, fingers sifting idly through her disheveled hair.

“I love you too, you know,” Kathryn said softly, pressing her lips against his chest. “And I really am sorry. I won’t do it again.”

He snorted out a laugh.

She raised her head to glare, but it was half-hearted and faded into a grin. “Well, if this is the way we resolve our arguments, maybe I will…”

Chakotay growled. “You do that, woman, and we’ll be having this argument – and its resolution – on the bridge.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me,” he retorted, grabbing her around the waist to roll her beneath him.

She squeaked as they overbalanced, tumbling off the couch and onto the carpeted floor. Chakotay cracked his elbow on the coffee table and Kathryn let out a winded ‘oof’ as he landed on top of her. Their groans were simultaneous.

“We’re really bad at make-up sex,” she gasped when she was able to speak.

Chakotay raised up on his elbows. “I guess we’ll just have to make sure there’s no more arguing, then,” he smiled.

Kathryn reached up to curl a hand around his neck. “I can think of much better things to do with our time,” she agreed, pulling him down for a kiss.


Read Helen8462's fantastic prequel to this story, No Immediate Danger.

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