Kinda Hoping - Voyager
Home | FoD | NCIS | CSI | Voyager | Stargate | Funnies | Atlantis | Other Stuff

Age Friendly!

Title: Kinda Hoping.
Author: Ky (Venom_69)
Fandom: Voyager
Category: Angst
Pairing: None specific.
Rating: Teen Friendly.
Archive: My site. Anywhere else, sure, just let me know where so I can come visit.
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, never will. Promise to put them back in the state I found them. Song isn’t mind either.
Author’s notes: I’ve pulled a muscle in my bloody belly! Just thought I’d share. Since I wrote this for [info]voyagerina, the song is very appropriate. Thanks again, Hon.
Date: 20/08/05
Copyright to Venom, 2005


Don’t be alarmed
No, don’t be concerned
I don’t want to change things
Leave them just as they were
I mean, Nothing’s really different
It’s me who feels strange


He’d 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 or two.

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 65 years.

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.

He’d 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 planet

“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.