Summary: Five times Janeway and Chakotay definitely did it, and one time they didn't.
Characters: Janeway, Chakotay
Notes: Facts, and nobody can convince me otherwise.
Disclaimer: Characters are Paramount’s. No infringement intended.
It would have been impossible to resist him for much longer, even without the love story. Even without the hand-built bathtub and the headboards and the cooking.
Because for months now she’s been trying not to notice the dimples, the sliding glances and the quiet devotion. Trying, and obviously failing.
In the end, she reaches for his hand and links their fingers, and that’s the point of no return.
His breathing is soft and even, tickling the back of her neck, his arm warm and heavy around her waist. And fatigue tugs at her, too – the well-earned exhaustion of a hard day’s physical work, not to mention prolonged and athletic lovemaking – but Kathryn can’t sleep. The captain’s conscience, it seems, is never fully at rest.
She eases out from under Chakotay’s arm, pulls on a robe and tiptoes outside. There’s the stump of a fallen tree just at the edge of the clearing; she sits here often with her morning coffee, with a book, sometimes with plans for the garden.
Tonight, she sits under the stars, and tells them goodbye.