Title: As They Please
Author: Ky (venom69)
Fandom: Star Trek: Voyager
Rating: PG
Summary: Quick Post-Endgame scene.
Character/Pairing: Janeway/Chakotay
Spoilers: None… the show’s ended!
Warnings: None, really.
Prompt Number for fic101: 65 - Back Alley
Author’s Notes: Song belongs to Missy Higgins. The mistakes are all mine. It’s been a while…
Disclaimer: Usual guff. Not mine, promise to put them back where I found them.
Date: 15/08/07

***

Pull back the shield between us and I’ll kiss you,
Drop your defenses and come into my arms.
I’m all for believing,
I’m all for believing.

***

They walk silently through the back alleys of San Francisco, their steps in time with each other.

Her dress clings to her body; the hem drags and catches some of the water from the ground. The midnight blue is now navy from moisture, but she doesn't mind. Her hair is a little damp, but it stays in place under the clip that holds it off her neck. The few tendrils that she had left free have attached themselves to her neck. She doesn't mind.

Light rain was the only thing that put a dampener on the evening, but even that wasn't enough to curb the enthusiasm of the returned crew as they made their entrance to what the press had deemed as 'the party of the century.'

Their 'party' - a fancy term used to hide the fact that the Brass were showing them off, not that anyone hadn't known that - was held in a large hall, candles and flowers everywhere, soft music coming from a live band. A sea of relieved family members and ecstatic crew swam around them and Admiral Janeway had watched her 'family' with pride.

As they made their entrance, the crew had been announced and escorted to their assigned seat. Everyone got to see each and every single person that she had served with for seven years and she had waited in the shadows for her name to be called - last on the list, of course - with tears in her eyes as her heart swelled for these people.

Speeches had followed their three-course meal and Kathryn's pride in her crew had grown as they had all managed to sit through the hour of official business that Starfleet had demanded they take part in. Even Tom Paris had remained silent throughout, for which she credits the sleeping bundle that he had held in his arms. Or the hand that had gripped his thigh, with knuckles that turned white whenever he had looked like he had a smart retort.

Those knuckles had been white for the better part of that hour.

Following dinner, the President of the Federation had announced that a ceremony would be held the following day for all to receive their 'official' promotions, but each officer had been notified in private beforehand. He had invited everyone to attend and bear witness as these exemplary people received only a fraction of what was due to them.

Admiral Janeway was the only one who was already in possession of her new rank bar. She didn't wear it to the party, of course, it didn't match her dress. But she kept it attached to her uniform, hung in the closet, ready for the following day. Ready for her to stand with pride as her friends were given new ranks. Ones that were long overdue.

A warm hand wraps around hers and Kathryn smiles at her companion.

"Didn't we do this already?" He asks.

"We weren't in formalwear then." The suit looks good on him. She told him so before they were due to leave and, as such, they'd been almost half an hour late to the party.

'It's Fashionable.' She'd told him when he had half-heartedly protested. He'd laughed and kissed her again before ushering her out of the house, towards the waiting transport.

"That white suit of yours was pretty formal. Considering all of the other women had been in swimwear."

She swats him lightly on the shoulder with her free hand. "Stop picturing me in a bikini."

"I never said I was."

"Are you denying it?"

"Well... no."

"My point exactly."

He shakes his head. After seven years of arguing with her, he knows that he can't win. She appreciates a man that knows when to quit. "You didn't answer my question."

"And which one is that?" He has asked her several, lately.

"Didn't we do this already?"

"Walk hand-in-hand through a back alley? No."

He almost looks offended that she disagrees. "Sure we did. In Los Angeles. 1996. Good year."

"Yes, a good year. Yes, we did walk through the back alleys. But they were covered in graffiti and rubbish, there were homeless people all around us, a few burning... cars, if I recall. We were tracking Braxton and you weren't holding my hand."

"I wanted to, though."

"I wanted you too, as well." She's been saying stuff like that a lot in the last few days. He makes her want to be much more open about the thoughts and feelings that she kept locked and hidden for years. She likes that. It makes her a little uncomfortable, but she does like it.

"Do you want to go home?" He asks. "Or do you want to find somewhere to get a coffee?"

Home is, currently, her mothers place until they can sort something out. They've been home for a week and a half, their debriefings start in two months and, until then, they're free to do as they please.

So far, 'as they please' has mostly involved staying in bed and that hasn’t curbed their desire for each other.

"We have a replicator in our bedroom." She smiles, perhaps a little shyly.

"We do." He agrees.

"Take me home, Chakotay."

***

End