Disclaimer: Paramount rules. I'm just playing with their dolls.

WARNING: THIS STORY IS NOT TOLD IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER! PAY ATTENTION TO THE CHAPTER DATES/LOCATIONS!

Note: This is not my usual Janeway/Chakotay story. In this universe, Our Favorite Couple is a little more confused and much more human than they appeared in the Delta Quadrant. Maybe it's something in the water. LOL

Undeniable

By Mizvoy

Chapter 1

May 16, 2379 (One year anniversary of Voyager's return) 1900 hours

Starfleet Executive Conference Center, Monterey, California-Utopia Ballroom

"I'm so tired of the press," Captain Kathryn Janeway complained as she arrived at Voyager's first reunion and spied a cluster of photographers waiting outside the building's entrance. She resented their presence here, wanting to have the crew to herself, to be able to be herself after a long year of personal appearances, welcome home banquets, and interviews. "How long are they staying?"

"Just an hour, Kathryn. Now smile." Captain Randall Wingate helped her out of the limousine and guided her toward the doors of the facility with a hand in the small of her back. As they walked, he addressed the paparazzi who were snapping photos from behind the rope barriers and shouting questions at them, "No comments tonight, people. Pictures only."

Janeway stepped into the relative quiet of the ballroom's foyer, relieved to know that only the Starfleet historian would be taking pictures from this point on, and only for another hour. She made a face at her escort as he closed the doors behind him.

"Randy, I don't know how you put up with that chaos day in and day out." Janeway shrugged off her overcoat and handed it to the attendant. "They're like piranha on a feeding frenzy."

"But they're after you, not me, remember? You're the celebrity. I'm just the lowly public affairs officer."

"I hope you get hazardous duty pay," she joked, leading him across the marble floor toward the ballroom's double doors. "I think we're late enough to make a dramatic entrance, don't you?"

He smiled, pulling the heavy door open for her, "Hail the conquering heroine!"

The dance music stopped as they entered, and then quickly shifted to the Starfleet anthem. Dancers paused in mid-step and other attendees turned as one toward the door as the emcee announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome Captain Kathryn Janeway!"

Wingate stepped aside as Janeway entered the room and stopped on the landing above the dance floor where she smiled and waved at members of her former crew and their companions throughout the room. She noticed, in dismay, the admirals who awaited her arrival at the head table and realized that her true reunion with the crew would happen much later, after dinner, after the dignitaries left. Meanwhile, the Starfleet reporter crouched in front of her, her camera catching Janeway's every movement.

"Please, don't stop the music," she cried, gesturing to the band, a brilliant smile lighting her face. "Keep dancing. Carry on."

At a table on the far side of the room, Tom Paris turned to his wife. "She's with that public affairs guy again, isn't she?"

"Wingate. Captain Randy Wingate. Her most recent companion," B'Elanna Torres nodded. "She says he's a really nice guy and a big help handling the press that always seems to follow her around. Easy on the eyes, too. You didn't expect her to continue her celibate ways once we got home, did you?"

Paris snorted. "She wasn't exactly celibate out there, B'Elanna. I always wondered about that Devore inspector. And then there was Michael Sullivan from Fair Haven. The one that got drunk and yelled for Katie O'Clare from the treetops. And, she didn't waste any time on Quarra." Tom shook his head and grinned, remembering those days as a bartender as carefree and fun. "She and Jaffen hit the bar every night after work and were all over each other from day one. I don't think they'd dated more than a couple of weeks before she moved in with him. I was surprised she didn't ask him to come along with us."

"Kashyk was a snake, Tom, and Michael Sullivan was a hologram. And Jaffen? A single two-week relationship in seven years is pretty close to celibate, if you ask me."

Paris shrugged and began stacking the creamer packets from the center of the table into a perfect pyramid. "I'm just saying that, celibate or not, she's probably more passionate than any of us can imagine. She seems cool and detached on duty, but underneath that professional façade beats the heart of a real hot woman."

"Down, boy. All I meant was that we shouldn't begrudge her a boyfriend, especially someone as nice as Captain Wingate." She looked up to see Harry Kim approaching with a huge plate of steamed shrimp from the buffet table. "Look, Harry brought us the whole platter of shrimp!"

"Very funny," Harry said, sitting down next to Tom. "You were talking about Captain Wingate and Janeway? I saw the captain last month when I stopped by her office for a quick hello. I was about to invite her to lunch when Wingate and Admiral Harridan came by to take her to a luncheon in the head shed with Admirals Hayes, Rogers, and T'Nang. They looked like pretty close friends to me. She's breathing rarefied air these days."

"Harridan? Wasn't he the command track member on her debriefing team?" B'Elanna wondered. "I remember they spent a lot of extra time together. But I can't imagine her getting stuck up about it."

Paris shook his head as he sneaked a shrimp from Harry's plate. "She grew up surrounded by high ranking officers, just like I did. It's just part of the job to her. She never forgets their rank, of course, but she considers them people just like the rest of us. No better, no worse."

"Sure," Kim said, licking shrimp sauce off of his fingers. "But look at the crowd she's associating with-admirals, ambassadors, diplomats. You don't see her sitting down here with the peons, do you? Next month, once she and Wingate are promoted, just think about all the perks they'll have- personal aides, shuttles, transport pads in their quarters." He frowned as Tom stole a second shrimp. "You know that rank has its privileges."

"Yeah, well," Paris argued, tossing the empty shrimp shell back onto his friend's plate. "What they fail to mention is that rank also has its responsibilities and duties, twenty-four/seven. I know how hard my dad works, the hours he puts in, the family time he's sacrificed over the years. The luxuries aren't worth the price, in my book."

"You have a point," Torres agreed. "Think about Janeway's life on Voyager, for example. She was the big kahuna. She had the plushest quarters, the best office, the most flexible work schedule. But I wouldn't have traded places with her for a million credits. She was lonely and isolated, and she routinely put in more hours in a day than the rest of us did." She pushed Paris's pyramid over and chuckled at his growl.

"Of course, nobody would choose to command a starship 70,000 light years from home," Kim agreed, sliding his plate out of Tom's reach with a playful laugh. "I'm just glad that she's getting promoted. Nobody deserves it more. And as for Wingate and Harridan? If either one of them breaks her heart, well, he'll have to answer to me."

"I feel the same way, Harry, but I wouldn't be surprised if she wasn't the one who's breaking hearts." Paris glanced at Chakotay and Seven, who'd listened to the interchange from the other side of the table without comment. "So, what do you guys think? Are these guys good enough for our captain?"

There was a long period of silence before Seven said, "The captain has always shown an ability to judge people's character well. I doubt that she would become involved with an individual who would be unworthy of her affection."

"Well," Paris laughed, "she certainly stuck her neck out on you and things worked out okay. Eventually." He looked from her to Chakotay. "The same could be said for you, Commander. Not many captains would've made a Maquis her first officer. She took a big gamble on you."

"And you, Tom, when she put you at the helm," Chakotay answered, a small grin on his face. But, his eyes were guarded and, beneath the table, his hands were in tight fists. He was never comfortable with this below decks speculation about the captain, but, then, he was no longer her first officer and had no reason to intervene. "She believed in all of us, trusted us no matter how much we screwed up or what we'd done in the past." He looked over at Janeway, who was being escorted by Wingate to her seat at the head table, right between Admirals Hayes and Necheyev. "I simply want her to be happy."

"Well, that's it, in the long run," Torres agreed, her voice filled with affection. "I hope to God she's happy."

Later, once the admirals had left and the party became less formal, Janeway began to systematically work the room, moving from table to table and spending time with as many of Voyager's crew as possible. It was nearly midnight by the time she reached the last table, the one shared by her senior staff, and she was obviously tired.

"Is there room for me to sit down for awhile?" she asked them, glancing from face to face. "My feet are killing me."

Harry Kim leaped from his seat and pulled out a chair, but Paris just grinned. "It's the heels on those boots, Captain. If you'd just admit that you're short, your feet wouldn't hurt so much." Torres, who happened to be exactly the captain's height, gave him a swift elbow. "Ow!"

Everyone at the table froze, waiting for the captain's scathing retort, but they were amazed to see her smile, enjoying her former crew's teasing. "I don't wear the boots because I'm vain, Tom," she replied, her eyes twinkling with good humor. "I'm perfectly aware of being 'height challenged.' It's just that I prefer to have sore feet instead of a permanent cramp in my neck from looking up at you tall guys!"

They laughed, and then B'Elanna asked about her recent trip to Vulcan.

"Tuvok's procedure is finally working," she reported, her face serious. "His disease was much further along than he let on, so it's taken a full year to bring him around. But his recovery will be complete. He said to tell all of you hello and thank you for your messages of support."

Harry Kim shook his head. "I wish he could've come tonight."

"Next year," Janeway assured them. "He promised to be here next year."

She spent the next hour with them, laughing at jokes and enjoying their company. It was like old times, like the best of the old times, and the affection between them was completely restored. After one particularly funny remark from Tom Paris, Janeway wiped tears from her eyes and said, "God, I've needed this. I miss you all so much. I miss your irreverent senses of humor."

"We thought maybe you preferred admirals to us lower ranks these days, Captain," Harry said. Although he was trying to sound flippant, there was an unmistakable disappointment in his voice that she didn't miss.

She sat up then, her eyes flashing with anger and distress, and everyone tensed. "I hope you don't mean that, Harry. My Voyager crew is like a family to me. I thought you knew that, but if you don't, let me make it clear now. No one in the galaxy means more to me than you." She looked around the table and into the eyes of every person present. "Never doubt that. I want you to contact me whenever you're in San Francisco or whenever you need to talk. If you need help with an assignment or a training course, you can count on my support. I mean that."

They nodded, sorry that the relaxed banter seemed to have evaporated. They were suddenly aware of how noisy the room was becoming as the evening grew later and people prepared to leave. Captain Wingate appeared at Janeway's elbow. "Let me know when you're ready to go, Kathryn, and I'll have the car brought around for you."

"Thanks, Randy," she said absently, glancing up at him. "Not just yet." She suddenly remembered her manners. "You know everyone here, don't you? My senior staff from Voyager?" At his nod, she said, "Captain Randy Wingate, everyone." They murmured a reply.

"I've got some messages I need to answer, so I'll be in the office off the foyer. Just call me when you're ready," Wingate said, stepping back. "Nice to see all of you again."

Once he left, B'Elanna said, "Seems like a nice guy."

"Yes. A very nice guy." Janeway's eyes remained unfocused. She took a deep breath and turned to Chakotay, who'd remained unusually quiet throughout the evening, preferring to sit and hold Seven's hand rather than work the room as his former captain had done. "No wedding plans yet?"

"Seven still refuses to talk about it," he replied, glancing at the beautiful blond sitting beside him. "I think she has cold feet."

"My feet are perfectly warm, thank you," Seven replied, giving him a stern look as everyone chuckled.

"Well, if you want me to attend, make sure it isn't near the end of the year. Looks like I'll be in the Gamma Quadrant by January."

Chakotay's eyes narrowed. "You've been given a deep space assignment."

"Rumor has it that I'll be given command of the fleet exploring the other side of the Bajoran worm hole. It's the job I've been jockeying for."

"A promotion, then," Chakotay said. "You'll be an admiral."

"Yes. I won't actually have a ship of my own, of course. I'll have several ships reporting to me and use one as my flagship." The table was silent as the others imagined Kathryn Janeway in space without them. Without Voyager.

"Will you miss next year's reunion, then?" Torres asked.

"Probably. The next big one, like this, isn't scheduled until the fifth year any way, although I imagine some of you will have an informal get-together somewhere every year." She looked down at the table. "This isn't the day I like to celebrate, anyway."

Kim was surprised. "How can you not celebrate the day we arrived home?"

She looked up. "For me, the whole ordeal ended several months later. I plan to celebrate the day I found out that the crew was free, that none of us would be prosecuted or spend a minute in prison. September 15th. That's the day for me. And I bet that most of you have other dates that are just as special, or maybe more so, than today."

"How do you plan to celebrate, Kathryn?" Chakotay asked. "Throw a big party?"

She laughed. "Nothing like this, I assure you. I want to spend the weekend just as I did when I found out the news last year. A secluded hotel. A bottle of champagne. Soft music. Room service. And a bathtub with plenty of hot water and jasmine bubble bath."

"With whom, I wonder?" Paris teased, leaning toward her with a wink as he glanced toward the foyer. "Anyone we know?"

Before she could reply, a few members of the crew approached them, wanting to tell Janeway and the others goodbye as they left. The moment was lost and soon everyone was preparing to leave, gathering at the entrance in a gaggle as they waited for jackets to be found, transporters to become available, or vehicles to be retrieved from the parking lot.

Chakotay noticed that Janeway was standing apart in a hallway off of the foyer, watching the crew as they laughed and talked among themselves. They were busy hugging each other, exchanging comm addresses, setting up subsequent meetings, promising to keep in touch. As usual, she held herself slightly apart, always aware of her distant role as the captain.

Chakotay approached her. "You look tired," he said, taking her elbow and maneuvering her into a quiet corner where they could talk privately. "Are you all right?"

"I arrived from Vulcan not three hours before the party began. The heat and gravity there always wear me out, and then I spent three days straight on a runabout, sharing a cabin with a Bolian who never stopped talking. I'm a little tired, but I'll be better once I get a good night's sleep."

He smiled. Bolians were known for their incessant blabbering, and the quarters on a runabout were notoriously small. "Nothing could be worse than a talkative Bolian. How's Tuvok, really?"

"Better. They think he'll be fine soon." She looked away. Chakotay knew how guilty she felt about the Vulcan, how she felt responsible for the complications he'd endured. "If I'd known how much that neural suppressant would hurt him when we went to Unimatrix Zero, I would've taken someone else with me."

"Don't blame yourself, Kathryn. He doesn't."

She looked up at her former first officer with tears shimmering in her eyes. "He doesn't want to admit how much he misses being with the crew, but I could tell he misses us. Almost as much as I do." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm always more emotional when I'm tired."

"I miss us, too." He stood slightly closer, using his body to shield her from the rest of the crowd as he had so often shielded their private discussions on the bridge. "I got your messages."

"I got yours, too," she whispered, opening her eyes to smile up at him. "There were times when I thought I'd lose my mind if I didn't hear from you."

Through a mirror on the far wall, Chakotay saw Wingate step into the foyer and begin scanning the crowd for Janeway, ready to whisk her away for some much needed rest in one of the distinguished officer's cabins overlooking Monterey Bay. Chakotay wondered how long it might be before he saw her alone again.

"Kathryn," he said, leaning down to speak softly into her ear. "What you said about September 15th. Did you mean that?"

She turned her head slightly, their faces close, their breaths mingling. She was trembling at his nearness, her pulse pounding in her ears. "I hope to spend it the same way every year, Chakotay. Is that wrong of me? To want one day a year for myself?"

She looked up at him and their eyes locked. His voice was warm, "Kathryn, you know I'm the wrong person to ask."

Wingate walked up with Janeway's jacket, and Chakotay stepped away, putting much needed space between them. Even so, Wingate gave them an appraising look, as if trying to decide whether he should jump to conclusions about their relationship. They were close friends, he decided, having a personal conversation. In fact, Chakotay was her closest friend, and he might as well get used to it. "Ready to go?" he asked her, greeting Chakotay with a nod. "Our vehicle's blocking the circle."

"Yes, I'm ready." She slipped into the jacket and turned to Chakotay, keeping her back to Wingate so only Chakotay would hear her murmur, "Suite 818."

With that, she turned and left without looking back. Chakotay watched her leave, hoping that Seven hadn't observed his private chat with the captain. Even though she still struggled with human emotion and intimacy, Seven was quite adept at spotting it in others. And at this moment, his heart was singing with such happiness and joy that it had to show on his face.

Four months. He could wait that long. He had no choice.
To be continued . . .