Title: Kinda Hoping.
Author: Ky (Venom_69)Fandom: Voyager
Pairing: None specific.
Archive: My site. Anywhere else, sure, just let me know where so I can come visit.
own them, never will. Promise to put them back in the state I found them. Song isn’t mind either.
notes: I’ve pulled a muscle in my bloody belly! Just thought I’d share. Since I wrote this for voyagerina
, the song is very appropriate. Thanks again, Hon.
Copyright © to Venom, 2005
Don’t be alarmed
No, don’t be concerned
I don’t want to change things
them just as they were
I mean, Nothing’s really different
It’s me who feels strange
been kinda hoping that the wave of heat that rushed through him the first time she laid her hand on his chest was just an
overwhelming urge to get her naked and play Maquis VS Starfleet.
He’d been kinda hoping that the surge of affection
he’d felt over her “There’s coffee in that nebular” remark had been little more than and impulse to
keep his Captain happy and stocked up on her addiction.
He’d been kinda hoping that the burst of pride he felt
watching her kick Paris’ ass at pool had been nothing more than a desire to see the smug young man pulled down a notch
He’d been kinda hoping that the bubble of happiness he’d felt when he first saw her in a Vision
Quest was simply a reaction to finally seeing someone living as he talked to his Wolf.
He’d been kinda hoping
that the relief that poured over him when she’d finally – Finally! – breathed after what felt like an eternity
of mouth-to-mouth wasn’t anything other than a desire to keep her alive because, god, he could not handle her job for
He’d been kinda hoping that the frequent waves of desire that rushed through him in her presence –
most especially when she touched him, which she did often - were only due to the long enforced celibacy that he’d endured.
been kinda hoping that his body’s reaction to the glimpses of flesh he’d been privy to during their maroon on
New Earth were nothing other than a primitive, human, response to the fact that she really *was* the last woman alive on the
“Chakotay, are you all right?”
He looks up from the PADD he’s been pretending to read
– crew evaluations – for the past hour. She’s sitting on the opposite end of her sofa, feet curled up under
her body, hair not as perfect as normal, but still beautiful. She discarded her jacket after dinner and the shirt underneath
isn’t what he’d call alluring, but it’s quite likely that he’s never wanted anyone more than her then
he does right now.
“I’m fine, Kathryn.”
He’s resigned himself to kinda hoping that he’s
not in love with her, but he knows he is.