Disclaimer: Star Trek: VoyagerŪ is the registered trademark and sole property of Paramount Pictures. This story is non-commercial and for enjoyment only. No copyright infringement is intended.



EMAIL: jrossca@sympatico.ca

RATING: R-17. NC. Whatever.

SUMMARY: Chakotay and Kathryn finally find a way to come clean. (A Voyager & Liberty a/u fic.)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: In addition to being a Voyager's Muse challenge fic – issued by Gilly, The Queen of Wetfic – this is also Shayenne's 2004 birthday fic. Happy Birthday, dear friend and beta. And, I bet a nickel that everyone will know which line comes directly from you! <goes to change the rating> <eg>


The Bold and the Beautiful

A VAMB Voyager's Muse "Soap" Challenge Fic,

which, I hope, explains the title


"Chakotay to Janeway."


The Maquis away mission officer paused for a moment and then tried again, tentatively. "Kathryn?"

"Yes?" she puffed. "Sorry, I was pulling off my turtleneck and I got stuck."

"Oookay. Need help?"

"No," she snorted.

"Are you sure? I'm here for you, Captain."

"Thank you very much, I'm sure. Now, did you hail me for any particular reason or just to harass me?"

"Well, I did have a specific question, but if you need harassing, I'm always available."

"Get to the point, Liberty, I'm busy. What do you want?"


"Watch your mouth—and that's an order. This is not a secure frequency."

"Relax, Voyager. I didn't mean it the way you so obviously did." He jumped. "What the hell was that?"

"Just my boots being thrown at the bulkhead, hopefully in the direction of your head."

"Hah, you missed. But, I do love a spirited woman."

She could hear his wicked grin in those subordinate words. "Eat my socks, mister. You have one minute. What do you want? And, watch your words!"

"Fine, be that way. According to Tuvok, you have tomorrow off. Right?"

"I'm not scheduled for a duty shift, if that's what you mean. Hold on."

"Holding…" He could hear some rustling, a drawer being slid open and shut, and finally running water. "Kathryn, what are you doing?" He got a garbled response. "Are you okay?"

Another sound that was definitely a spit. He grinned at the image of the dignified captain of Voyager spitting. "Yes, I'm fine. I was just brushing my teeth."

"I've already done that."

She rolled her eyes. "Next time we're having an ablution race, let me know, okay? Now, this is your last chance. What do you want me for?"

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. "I'll ignore that question and go straight to tomorrow's agenda. According to your first officer you have tomorrow off—" He continued quickly before she could twist his words again, "—AND, it so happens I'm off tomorrow, too. So, why don't we go planetside and breathe some real air into our lungs?"

"What? Together?"

"Well, yes, that was the general idea. If you insist, though, we can beam down separately. Only, why would we do that?"

Under the cover of a sudden blast of louder water she muttered, "I could think of a few reasons."

"I heard that."

"I'll think about it, Chakotay. Only, now I'm dropping my towel and getting into my shower, so it's time to sign off. Good night."

"Whoaaaa, there, Voyager. Keep your com badge close enough for us to talk."

"I'm sure I can't think of any reason in God's black space why I would I want to do that. Besides, you have nothing more to say to me. Good night."

"Yes, I do. And, then you'll want to keep telling me to shut up while we're showering together."


"You heard me. You're not the only one who can drop a towel at this time of night."

Over a second, muffled sound of running water, she forced herself to ask, "Have you been talking to me all this time while you only had a towel around you?"


"Thank goodness for that." She swallowed hard at the image in her head and then assumed command mode. "Now, once and for all, good night." She stepped under the water and tried to relax as the warmth of the steam surrounded her.

His voice continued smoothly over the torrent. "I've been naked. But I just got a towel for after my shower and there's nothing that says I can't drop it from my hand."

She wiped her dripping hair back and glared at their shared bulkhead. "Liberty, if you think I'm continuing a personal discussion with you on this com frequency—and while we're both showering—you're unhinged. Good night!"

"I told you, Kathryn, it's a secure link."

"NO. IT. IS. NOT. I think I know a little more about my ship than some Maquis stowaway. Now, disconnect this link and that's an order!"

She could hear his laugh through both the com link and the bulkhead. "Oh Kathryn, get over yourself! You have to learn that when I say that something is, then it is. One of the first things I had B'Elanna do when we got on board this precious ship of yours was to make certain, uhhh, adjustments. Any link between you and me will always be strictly private."

He smiled at the shocked silence that followed. The picture in his head of the Starfleet captain standing naked under her shower had been with him all day. He knew her basic nightly routine from paying attention to the muted sounds that filtered through their shared bulkhead. It was mere habit for him at first—no Maquis stayed alive by being ignorant about his or her surroundings—but he didn't stop listening after settling down on Voyager. Kathryn Janeway might not be his enemy exactly, but he fully intended on conquering her.

Her voice was as cold as space. "You want to give me a list of those adjustments, mister? And, I mean right now."

"Not now, no. But, maybe later." He was getting hard. Somehow, the idea of her being both angry and hostile towards him just made him hotter for her. He knew her cold reserve had been drilled into her during her years of Starfleet training, but underneath he recognised the passionate woman it disguised. He lathered up the soap and began to wash himself, giving careful attention to his body's obvious anticipation for hers. He smiled; if he'd timed it right, she was about to realise something.

"Are you still there, Kathryn?" he asked in an innocent voice.

"Don't talk to me, you terrorist."

"Okay, we don't have to talk. It's just nice showering with you. By the way, I've shampooed. Have you?"


"Would you like me to soap your back?"

"Oh, get spaced! I have my own soap right—" She stopped abruptly.

He grinned.

"Shit! My soap is gone."

"You want me to pass my soap over?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"My soap. I can beam my soap over so you don't have to slop over to the replicator and catch your death of cold."


"Voyager? Yes or no? I'm finished with it."

"Oh hell, why not? Beam it over when you're ready. Somehow I have a feeling it won't show up on any transporter log."

"You're finally catching on. Okay, give me a second here."

She sighed and let the water rain over her. Why did she let this man get under her skin? Every single time she talked to him, or saw him, or even thought about him or heard his voice, she was put on guard. There was something dangerous about him that just knocked her off balance each and every time. A thought flitted through her mind, but she dismissed it quickly. Under no circumstances would she allow herself to think of him as a worthy opponent. She froze.

When was the last time she'd actually thought that? Somehow, between the Badlands and seventy years deep into the Delta Quadrant, he'd taken on a new persona in her mind. It had been a long time since she'd met a man whom she considered her equal on so many levels. Then, "No! Cut it out, Kathryn!" echoed in the shower.

She heard the transporter beam and turned to catch the soap when it appeared. She gaped as Chakotay's naked body materialised in front of her. Captain Janeway had loved two men in her life, but the one before her was the most compelling male she'd ever known. Always before, when the Maquis captain exerted his own brand of authority, she'd had the safety of a transporter chief at her beck and call. But, here in her own shower, it was just the two of them. Man and woman.

"Here's the soap, Kathryn," he said softly. Before she could utter a word he turned her around so that he could press himself against her bottom. One muscled arm slipped around her waist to hold her against him, while the other gently lathered her breasts. His mouth bent down to her ear and shivers ran through her entire body when he started to whisper.

"You did tell me to pass the soap, didn't you?"

"I think I said to beam it over." She didn't try to escape, even when he pushed against her again.

"Yes, when I was ready. Spirits, with you on this ship, I'm always ready."

"Are we talking about the same thing?" she breathed.

She felt his smile against her jaw. "I think we've been talking about this since the moment we met, even when we didn't utter a sound." His soft kisses slid down her neck and then up again as he slowly turned her around to face him. He smiled down into her eyes. "Tomorrow we'll have to find a nice, restful, secluded spot to spend our day in. You'll definitely need a rest and I'm just the man to make sure you get it. All day."

"I like the sound of that 'secluded' part," she gasped, as his amazing mouth started to slide down to capture an eager nipple. Slowly he sank to his knees, keeping her firmly between his strong thighs. His mouth descended to her belly with wet kisses that made her shudder in anticipation. "Chakotay…"

"Yes, Kathryn Rose?" he murmured, as he steadied her in a corner with one hand and lifted her leg over his shoulder with the other. As soon as he knew she was safe he let his hand slide back up her thigh. She caught herself melting down into the shower floor.

"What are you doing?" she gasped.

He raised his glistening mouth. "I would have thought that was obvious, Voyager. First, I'm going to make you beg, and then I'm going to fuck you. Repeatedly."

"Oh gawwwd… Your mother would wash your mouth out with soap."

He parted her sudsy curls with a probing finger. "My mother isn't here, Voyager. Be thankful."

He stopped talking. And, over the next day and a half she was very thankful—mothers notwithstanding.


The End

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