February 2000
Rating: G
Betweentimes
by Sängerin
Candlelight
seems appropriate, for the first time ever. It’s too easy to make the wrong
impression – too hard to make the right one. Too easy for the
slightest action to be taken the wrong way. Maybe this time, the wrong
way is the right way.
We’re
so close. Almost home, almost free.
"Commander
– I hope you’ve got an appetite." He’s standing, uncertain, in the
doorway. I don’t blame him – his being in these rooms is unusual.
"Famished,
but I assumed you called me here to talk about the slipstream flight." He
holds a PADD in one hand, ready to work, to be professional. And yet, just
standing there, he almost takes my breath away.
I try
to laugh him off. "No reason to cancel our dinner plans. I've programmed a
dish my grandmother
used to make back on Earth--vegetable biryani."
I had put a jar of water on the table before he came. Pouring it now gives me
something to do with my hands as he sits down. I can’t remember ever being so
nervous.
"Sounds delicious. I didn't know you could cook."
He knows so well that I don’t like cooking. He wouldn’t forget the burnt pots
in our shelter. Maybe he’s as nervous as I am.
"Normally,
I draw the line at a pot of coffee, but tonight is a special occasion."
"Oh?"
The poor dear man is puzzled. At least I can tell him the truth.
"Our last night in the Delta Quadrant. I'd say
that's special enough." Our last night before a new life can begin. If he
still feels the same way – our last night before a new life, together.
"You've
made your decision." I know that tone of voice – the Commander, not my Chakotay. Facts and statistics, not dreams of the future.
I
have to give him the details. I would rather have talked about it later, but he
wants them now. "We launch tomorrow at 0800. You and Harry will take the
Delta Flyer. Voyager will be right behind you."
"The
crew will be pleased." But he is not.
I
want him to tell me himself. "What about you, Chakotay?
What do you think about my decision?"
He
grimaces, and inside myself, I smile. He disagrees, but he doesn’t want to tell
me so. He has waited so long, dear man. He deserves a reward. A special reward. "I've analysed
Harry's flight plan. The theory is sound, but there are just too many variables.
If something goes wrong in that slipstream..."
"It
could be our only chance to use the quantum drive." It could be our only
chance to get out of the Delta Quadrant.
"True,
but if you showed this data to any Starfleet engineer they'd think we were out
of our minds. We can find another way home. We've waited this long—"
"Long enough." Too long. Far too long. "We've waited long enough. I know it's a
risk...probably our biggest one yet...but I'm willing to take it." To get home – to be where I can be with you. But only
if…"are you with me?"
"Always." Thanks be to
the God in whom I do not believe. Chakotay puts the
PADD down – the discussion is over.
I
want to make sure he understands. I walk around the table, and rest my hand on
his shoulder. He is used to my touches. For so long they have been my security
blanket. "Speaking of risks...are you ready to try some home
cooking?"
He
smiles. He dimples. And something inside me does somersaults. "I'll alert
Sickbay."
I
truly do love this man. His humour,
his intelligence, his steadfastness. I cup his jaw in my hand, and
stroke his cheek.
We’re
almost home, almost free.