Nothing But Trouble

Summary: Three years after coming home, Voyager’s former command team want nothing to do with each other. She thinks he’s a cad and he thinks she’s nothing but trouble. But when Janeway disappears under mysterious circumstances, all the slave traders, fistfights and cagey admirals in the galaxy can’t stop Chakotay from going after her.

 

Characters: Janeway, Chakotay, Seven of Nine, Torres, Paris

Codes: Janeway/Chakotay

 

Disclaimer: Somewhere, there’s a pretty snow-capped mountain that doesn’t care a whit about raining unholy legal hell on me.

 

Notes: Written for the VAMB Secret Summer 2016 exchange. My request was: “NC-17 J/C fic, preferably with a plot. I love thrillers and suspense. No wimpy J/C for me please. No-goes include wimpy J/C, baby fics, wedding fics”. Pretty sure that's right up my alley.

 

Warning: Some scenes contain non-consensual elements and could be disturbing.

Rated E

V. The Wrong Side of Right

 

The sector was filled with Syndicate-controlled entertainment complexes, slave markets and weapons depots. Chakotay, who’d had little contact with Orions in the past, couldn’t believe that an area of space like this existed – no, thrived – sandwiched between the Federation and the Klingon Empire.

 

B’Elanna had modified the Delta Flyer’s warp signature to resemble an Antaran personal shuttle, and Tom had rigged a holofilter they used to hide their identities whenever they communicated with on-planet installations or other ships. Seven scanned continuously for human lifesigns. They’d found plenty, but none of them were Kathryn’s.

 

They’d been searching for two weeks before they reached Stameris and Seven’s console lit up. “Captain, I’ve detected the Admiral’s biosignature in a complex on the southern hemisphere.”

 

Chakotay entered the cockpit from the Flyer’s aft compartment, where he’d been taking the time for a quick shave. “Can you beam her out?”

 

“It’s too heavily shielded.”

 

“Hail the complex.”

 

Tom activated the holoprojection and nodded. A sour-faced Ferengi appeared on screen. ~Welcome to the Stameris Arena. I am Broik, purveyor of fine wine and entertainment. How may I help you today?~

 

“I’m Lopak of the Antaran shuttle Freedom,” Chakotay replied, hoping the holofilter was working. “My crew is interested in partaking of your entertainment offerings. May two of us transport to your complex?”

 

The Ferengi looked a little more cheerful. ~Of course. Strangers are always welcome here. As is your latinum,~ he chortled.

 

“Thank you. One of my crew has quite specific tastes that he hopes you can cater to.”

 

~If he desires it, I can almost guarantee I have it, sir. If your crewman would like to transport to the welcoming hall, I’ll greet him personally and we can discuss his … tastes.~

 

“I’m sure he looks forward to it. Lopak out.” Chakotay leaned back in his chair. “Seven, start working on a way to transport through their shields in case we can’t get her out. Tom, I need you at the helm. B’Elanna, you’re with me.”

 

“Captain,” Seven interrupted. “Do you intend to disguise yourself?”

 

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

 

She let her gaze rest on his tattoo. “You have a distinctive marking. I can occlude it with a dermal regenerator. It will only take a few minutes.”


Chakotay nodded impatiently. “Make it quick, then.”

 

=/\=

Dressed in leathers and roughspun cloaks, Chakotay and B’Elanna beamed into the unshielded foyer of the Stameris Arena. The Ferengi hurried to meet them. “Welcome, honoured guests! I am Broik. And you are…?”

 

Chakotay thought quickly. “Miller,” he answered, stepping forward and holding out a hand for the Ferengi to shake. “This is my colleague, Brigitte.”

 

The Ferengi unclasped Chakotay’s hand and turned to B’Elanna. His beady little eyes widened. “Such beauty,” he gasped. He grabbed B’Elanna’s hand and lavished kisses on the back of it. “Please, consider me at your personal disposal, madam.”

 

B’Elanna glared at Chakotay over the Ferengi’s head. “Thanks,” she muttered brusquely, tugging her hand back.

 

Trying not to laugh, Chakotay tapped Broik’s shoulder. “You mentioned you provide personal entertainment?”

 

“Yes, yes! We have a wide selection of delectable young ladies, or young men if that’s your preference. Your captain mentioned you have a particular requirement?”

 

“I do. May I browse your selection?” Chakotay wanted to spit the words out even as he spoke them.

 

“Follow me,” Broik simpered, taking B’Elanna’s hand and tucking it into the crook of his arm. She had to stoop slightly to walk beside him. Chakotay followed, listening to the Ferengi try to charm his friend and trying to hide his grin at the looks B’Elanna was throwing him over her shoulder.

 

They passed through a discreet doorway and into a darkened room with a long bar along the far wall. Small tables were scattered throughout, many of them occupied. A large Gallamite man served behind the bar, and scantily-clad women of various species wandered through the room carrying trays of drinks. Against one wall was a discreet row of data cubicles with holo-interfaces. Chakotay could see three or four men there, scrolling through what he assumed was the holographic catalogue of entertainers. Like ordering from a replicator menu, he thought, disgusted.

 

Broik waved an arm in the direction of the cubicles. “Please, Mr Miller, take your time.” He tightened his hold on B’Elanna’s arm. “Madam, perhaps you’d allow me to entertain you at the bar while your friend makes his selection?”

 

“I’m sure Brigitte would be happy to keep you company,” Chakotay offered, straight-faced.

 

“Excellent!” Broik beamed, sweeping B’Elanna with him. “May I buy you a drink, Brigitte?”

 

“You owe me one,” B’Elanna hissed in Chakotay’s ear as she passed.

 

=/\=

Chakotay took a seat at the cubicle nearest the bar where he could keep an eye on B’Elanna and her admirer, and activated the holo-catalogue.

 

Input parameters, flashed the screen. Species, gender, height, body type?

 

Chakotay selected human, female, petite, slim.

 

Eight matches, the computer informed him. Begin display?

 

He tapped the key and the holoimage sprang into life, showing a dark-skinned woman in her thirties standing on a beach, wearing a brief red bikini. Next, he ordered, trying not to think about how the woman had come to be here. He scrolled through human women of varying ages and colouring until he reached the sixth.

 

It was Kathryn.

 

The holoimage showed her reclining gracefully on a rumpled white bed. She wore an emerald-green lace bra and panties. One leg was slightly bent, accentuating the curve of her body, and there was a faint, seductive smile on her face. Chakotay’s mouth went dry. He tapped the select key and stood.

 

Broik spotted him as he made his way back over to the bar. “Mr Miller! I take it you’ve found something to your taste?”

 

“Very much so,” he answered a little hoarsely. “I’d like to book some time with Number 347.”

 

“Ah, Róisín! An excellent choice, sir. She’s very popular.” Broik leered. “She’s occupied at the moment, I’m afraid, but she should be available shortly. Take a seat and we can discuss what type of entertainment you’d like.”

 

Chakotay eased onto a stool, exchanging a glance with B’Elanna. “Type of entertainment?”

 

“Yes, we can offer everything from a simple link experience all the way up to full contact. Of course, the price reflects the, heh, intimacy of the entertainment.”

 

B’Elanna looked away before the Ferengi could see the disgust on her face. Chakotay tried to keep his expression blank. “How long would the full experience give me with her?”

 

“An hour,” Broik smirked. “And believe me when I tell you it would be the best hour of your life.”

 

“How much?”

 

Broik named a price that made him blanch. “Done.”

 

“Excellent!” The Ferengi produced a datapadd. “If you’ll just authorise the transaction here…”

 

Chakotay pressed his thumb to the datapadd. Broik handed him a transceiver. “Attach this to your occipital bone when you enter the holosuite. You activate it by pressing this button here.”

 

Chakotay nodded. “I need a word with my colleague, Mr Broik.”

 

“Of course! I’ll leave the two of you alone. Feel free to enjoy the bar. I’ll return for you when Róisín is ready.” He turned back to B’Elanna, kissing the back of her hand. “If there’s anything I can do for you, madam, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

 

B’Elanna exhaled slowly when Broik had gone. “You found her, Chakotay?”

 

He nodded. “I need you to return to the Flyer. Find out what progress Seven’s made with the transporters. I have a feeling that Ferengi won’t give Kathryn up without a fight.”

 

=/\=

“What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”

 

Chakotay wanted to kick himself. Of all the stupid … But he’d taken one look at Kathryn, perched on the bar stool in that heart-stoppingly flimsy dress with her hair tousled over her shoulders, and his brain had melted into a puddle.

 

She wasn’t looking at him the way she should be. He’d expected shock at seeing him here, confusion, a little anger, maybe a glare and a haughty tilt of her head. But she looked tense, wary, and he could see her chest rising and falling quickly as though she was a little breathless. He realised he was staring, and snapped his gaze up to her face.

 

“Hi,” she said in the husky voice that had defined his dreams for the past decade. “Are you new in town?”

 

“Uh…” Oh, right, the scenario. He was supposed to be visiting this seedy little bar, and she was supposed to be seducing him.  Chakotay swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

 

She uncrossed her legs and slid off the stool, slinking towards him. “Are you looking for some company?” she purred, moving into his personal space. She raised one hand and trailed a fingernail over his jaw.

 

She was too close. Chakotay stepped back, flustered. “Uh, sure.” He glanced around wildly. “Hey, do you want to play some pool?”

 

Kathryn looked confused. “Okay.”

 

“Great!” He practically ran over to the table and busied himself racking the balls. “Ladies first,” he said, handing her a cue.

 

She took the cue and stepped up to the table, brushing deliberately against him as she bent over, widening her stance as she prepared to break. Chakotay looked down at the silk-clad bottom directly in front of him and exhaled shakily. What kind of panties was she wearing? If she leaned forward just a little further, he’d be able to see …

 

The crack of her cue hitting the white ball made him jump. Kathryn stood straight, smiling. “I guess I’m on solids.”

 

She circled the table, selected her next shot, glanced up at him, and missed. Deliberately. “Your shot,” she said. Her fingers slid over his as she passed him the cue.

 

He potted a couple of stripes then flubbed his next on a difficult angle. She missed her next, an easy shot directly over the pocket. Chakotay sank his next three. She missed another one.

 

“Are you throwing this game?” he asked. He’d never seen her play so badly in his life.

 

Kathryn let the cue rest on the table and sauntered up to him. “Is this really the game you came here to play?”

 

“Uh…”

 

She shifted closer and let her hand drift onto his chest. The gesture was so familiar he had to close his eyes. “Kathryn,” he whispered.

 

He felt her hair brush his chin as she leaned in to press her mouth to his throat. “Call me whatever you like,” she murmured. He felt her hand slide up his neck and her fingers press against the transceiver at the base of his skull.

 

Instantly, he felt as though her hands were everywhere on his body, stroking, pressing, teasing. Chakotay’s eyes snapped open and he jumped back, gasping. “What the hell was that?”

 

Kathryn was staring at him. “That was …” The confusion in her eyes gave way to understanding. “Is this your first link experience?”

 

He had no idea what was going on here. “Uh, yes.”

 

She smiled and took his hand, leading him over to a table, pressing him into a chair. She moved her feet either side of him, her thighs cradling his, her hands smoothing down his chest. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” she whispered in his ear. “Just relax and let me show you the best time of your life.”

 

“Kathryn!” Chakotay grabbed her hips and held her still before she could sink down onto his lap. “What are you doing?” he hissed.

 

“What you’re paying me to do,” she said, her eyes clouded with doubt. “I don’t understand. Have I done something wrong?”

 

Chakotay stared into her eyes, searching for the faintest flicker of recognition. His stomach dropped. “Kathryn,” he said slowly, “do you know who I am?”

 

She hesitated. “Is this part of your scenario? Because Broik didn’t say anything… Am I supposed to be someone you used to know?”

 

“You could say that,” Chakotay said slowly.

 

“Okay,” she answered. “I’ll be your Kathryn.” She pressed closer, letting her mouth touch his temple. “Is she someone you wanted? Loved?”

 

He swallowed. “Yes.”

 

“And you were never with her?” Her tongue was doing things to his ear that made him close his eyes.

 

“No.”

 

“Then be with me now,” she whispered, and she kissed him.

 

=/\=

Oh, this was so wrong, so wrong. And yet he couldn’t stop, because she felt so right.

 

He was kissing her. Kissing Kathryn, sliding his tongue over hers, feeling her nibble at his lips. She was unbuttoning his shirt, slowly, spreading her hands over his chest. His hands were moulded to her body, stroking her back, her waist, her breasts, feeling her shiver in his arms. She tightened her thighs around him and he felt his erection growing painfully hard. And over and around all the sensations of holding her, touching her, in his mind’s eye he could see her writhing over him, drawing him in. Chakotay thought he might explode from the sensory overload.

 

“Turn the link off,” he gasped, wanting to stop this, never wanting it to end but knowing it had to.

 

“Are you sure?” she whispered. He heard the hitch in her voice and wondered if she was feeling this too. Was it always like this for her?

 

He felt her fingers at the transceiver against his skull and the mental images stopped. “Better?” she asked. She ground her pelvis against him.

 

“Uh,” he groaned. It wasn’t better. Switching off the link just meant his entire concentration was focused on the reality of the woman in his arms. He felt her slither downward between his legs to kneel on the floor. Her fingers worked at his belt, unbuttoning his pants, curling inside. “Kathryn …”

 

“Shh,” she said, and took him in her mouth.

 

“Oh, sweet fu-” Chakotay choked as he felt her engulf his cock, her lips stretching over the head and sliding down the shaft. He had to grip the edges of the chair to stop himself from thrusting into her warm, wet mouth. His hands moved into her hair of their own volition, tangling in the silky strands as she sucked at him, drawing back until her tongue swirled around the head of his penis. “Stop,” he gasped, tugging gently at her hair until she raised her head. She licked her lips.

 

“What do you want?” she asked, her fingers lightly playing over his shaft.

 

“I don’t –”

 

She leaned up and pressed her mouth to his chest, a move that pillowed his rigid cock between her silk-clad breasts and made the protest die on his tongue. She wriggled against him a little and his cock jumped, so she slid higher, up the length of his body, climbing onto his lap. Before he realised what he was doing, his fingers were pushing the straps of her dress from her shoulders and down her arms, and he was pressing his face to her naked breasts as she arched against him. He took one nipple between his teeth and tugged, and she cried out, grinding in his lap. Chakotay slid his hands under her ass and yanked her closer, sucking and licking and nipping at her breasts until she was shaking, writhing in his arms. He spread his hands under her backside, slipped his fingers under her silky panties and hardened impossibly more when he felt how slick she was. He dipped a careful finger into her, circling her clitoris, and she bucked against him, panting in his ear.

 

“Please,” she whimpered, squirming and trying to impale herself on his fingers. “Oh, please.”

 

Chakotay curled two fingers inside her and stroked his thumb against her nub and she screamed and shuddered, her inner muscles grasping at his fingers, her arms wrapped tight around his shoulders. “God,” he said raggedly, holding her as she floated down from her high, her eyes re-focusing on him. “I’ve wanted to watch you do that for so long.”

 

For a moment she looked sad. Then she dipped her head and bit gently at his ear. “My turn.”

 

“You don’t have to –”

 

She laid a finger against his lips. “I want to.”

 

So he didn’t stop her as she kissed and licked her way down his chest and stomach and slid her mouth over him again, all the way down until his cock hit the back of her throat and he thought he would give anything for time to stop in that perfect moment. But then she flexed the muscles in her throat and took him even deeper, humming around him, and he groaned and thrust forward helplessly, wanting more, wanting all she could give. She slipped a small hand inside his pants and cupped his balls, stroking gently, and he felt his orgasm begin to rush through him. “Kathryn,” he warned, but she wrapped her other arm around his hips and sucked him deeper, working her throat, and he came with a yell, his hips moving uncontrollably as she milked him of every drop. When he started to soften she rested her chin on his thigh and smiled up at him.

 

“God,” was all he could say, and her smile widened.

 

“You know, that would’ve been even more intense with the link,” she told him.

 

“Any more intense and I think I’d have died.”

 

She laughed, and he gathered the strength she’d sucked out of him and pulled her up into his lap, his arms around her waist, burying his face in her hair. “Let me do something for you,” he whispered.

 

“You already did, remember?”

 

“I want more.” He tightened his arms around her and stood, and she wrapped her legs around his hips as he carried her to the pool table, sweeping the balls away with one hand so he could lay her back on the felt. He reached up under her dress and slowly tugged her panties over her hips and down her legs. When he looked up at her, she was propped on her elbows, her lips parted and her breasts flushed and exposed by the dress that had slipped from her shoulders. She was watching him with pupils so dilated her eyes looked almost black. Chakotay kicked a chair over to the pool table, sat and spread her thighs apart, draping her legs over his shoulders.

 

He pushed his face into her, licking her lower lips from bottom to top, flattening his tongue on her clit. She was so wet and she tasted so sweet, he wanted to eat her for hours, but from the way she was groaning and shoving herself against his face, from the trembling of her thighs and the clenching of her fingers, he knew she wasn’t going to last that long. He thrust his tongue inside her as far as he could go, curling it upward until it rubbed against the rippled patch of flesh, and she wailed, her hips twisting off the edge of the pool table as she came. He wasn’t going to let her off that easy; he looped his arms under her thighs to hold her still, clamped his teeth over her clit and sucked hard. The second wave hit her even harder than the first. Her legs jerked, her heels beating against his back, her head thudding back on the surface of the pool table as she arched her back and shrieked. Chakotay drove his tongue inside her, drinking as much of her liquid as he could. When her screams dwindled into soft, broken moans he pulled back a little, licking her gently through the aftershocks, stroking her stomach and thighs until her body stopped twitching.

 

He raised his head to look at her and realised her face was wet with tears.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, not knowing what he’d done to make her cry.

 

She sat up and wiped her face. “What are you sorry for? Nobody has ever made me feel like that.”

 

He was leaning in to kiss her when he heard a soft chime. “Our time’s up,” she said quietly, looking away from him. She tugged the straps of her dress up over her shoulders and he stepped back so she could slide off the pool table. She stumbled a little on weakened legs and he caught her.

 

“Thanks,” she mumbled, still avoiding his eyes. “I’d better go. If I stay longer, Broik will dock my pay.”

 

She hesitated at the doorway, then turned back and said in a rush, “You’ll probably think I say this to all my clients, but I don’t, I mean –” She bit her lip. “Being with you was incredible. I wish …” She trailed off, blushing.

 

“What do you wish?” he asked.

 

“I wish it was real,” she whispered. “Your Kathryn doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

 

Then she was gone, and Chakotay slumped against the wall, thinking that truer words were never spoken.

 

=/\=

Chakotay transported back to the Flyer and found he couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

 

“So?” demanded B’Elanna, when he’d tried and failed to find words. “Was it her?”

 

“Yes,” he mumbled. “And no.”

 

“Explain,” Seven demanded.

 

“It was Kathryn. But she doesn’t know she’s Kathryn. She thinks she’s a net-girl called Róisín.” He slid behind the Ops panel and tapped on it to give himself something to do with his hands. “It appears she’s had her memory wiped.”

 

Seven thinned her lips. “That was a possibility I had considered.”

 

B’Elanna unleashed a string of curses in a mix of Klingon and Standard and kicked violently at the base of her console. Tom put a hand on her arm. “What can we do about it, Seven?”

 

“I can modify a transceiver to reverse the effects. It would have to be attached to Admiral Janeway’s implant.”

 

“Can you disable her implant at the same time?” Tom asked. “So the Syndicate can’t mess with her mind again?”

 

“Yes, but the implant can only be removed surgically, and as long as it’s attached, the Admiral is vulnerable to other forms of attack. Even a disabled implant is susceptible to a directed energy surge.”

 

“Get started on modifying the transceiver,” Chakotay ordered. He got up from Ops and headed into the Flyer’s aft section. “I’ll update Starfleet.”

 

He’d just finished sending the encoded transmission when B’Elanna entered the rear compartment and sat on the bunk opposite him. “So. Want to tell me what happened down there?”

 

“No.”

 

She watched him not meeting her eyes. “You were down there for a while. The full hour, at least. How long did it take you to figure out she’d lost her memory?”

 

“Not long.”

 

“So what were you doing for all that time?”

 

“Leave it, B’Elanna,” he growled.

 

“Oh, shit,” she breathed. “Chakotay, tell me you didn’t.”

 

He was silent.

 

“You stupid petaQ.” B’Elanna sprang to her feet and started pacing. “How could you, Chakotay? She’s still Admiral Janeway, even if she doesn’t know it!” She whirled on him. “How do you think she’s going to feel when she gets her memories back and realises what you did to her? To her. To your beloved Kathryn!”

 

“Shut up, B’Elanna!” Chakotay roared. “I know, all right? I know. But it wasn’t like that. She wanted –”

 

“She wanted you? She’s paid to act like she wants you! You stupid, stupid man!”

 

The door slid open and Tom poked his head through, taking in the furious half-Klingon and their stony-faced Captain. “Everything okay in here?”

 

You talk sense into him,” B’Elanna spat, pushing past her husband on her way back to the cockpit. “I don’t want to speak to this dishonourable Ha'DIbaH right now.”

 

Tom came into the rear section and let the door slide shut. “So …” he started.

 

“So I guess you heard all that.” Chakotay was staring at the floor, elbows on his knees, his hands dangling between them.

 

“Enough of it,” Tom said carefully, perching opposite him. “Listen, Chakotay, nobody knows what happened down there except you and the Admiral, but I’m guessing it wasn’t as black and white as B’Elanna sees it.”

 

“No, but it was still wrong, and I knew it,” Chakotay said before he could stop himself. “She’s never going to forgive me. And I won’t blame her.”

 

There was nothing Tom could say to that, so they sat in silence until Seven came in and informed them she’d finished modifying the transceiver. Tom glanced at Chakotay. He felt sorry for him. “Look, Captain, someone has to get this transceiver to Admiral Janeway, but if you want, I can do it. I’m sure B’Elanna would understand.”

 

“No. It should be me.” Chakotay pushed up to his feet, headed back into the cockpit and avoided B’Elanna’s eye while he contacted Stameris Arena to book another session with Róisín.

© 2021 by Mia Cooper