SUMMARY: Quick quiz -- you're locked in a pitch black weapons locker with your commanding officer. What do you do?

CODES: VOY, J/C

RATING: R

DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns them, I don't.

NOTES: Well, since I refuse to do a turbolift story, this is the best you're getting. Suz's story "Weekly Report" actually gave me the idea.

"Phasers, Rifles and Romance ... Oh My"
by Liz VanZandt

Never, ever, in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine it happening like this. I mean, I've dreamed up some pretty bizarre situations, but never once did I consider the weapons locker. Sure, I've thought about stalled turbolifts, Jeffries tubes, even the bridge and ready room, but not the weapons locker. Hell, if I'd have known I'd have done it a long time ago. But I guess maybe I'd better start at the beginning.

It all started with a freak accident. One of the phasers backfired and almost blew off Ensign Carter's hand. B'Elanna and Tuvok tracked it down to a faulty trigger. Tuvok suggested checking every phaser on board for the same condition, and Kathryn agreed with him. There was no way we were going to have a repeat performance. However, we have nearly two hundred phasers aboard Voyager, and checking every single one was a major job.

And so that's how Kathryn and I came to be standing in the weapons locker on deck fourteen. We opened the door and walked in, not realizing that the light hadn't come on. Kathryn was in front of me and was looking at a box off to the side of the small room. I noticed a second box in the back of the room, so I headed back there to inspect it. But the door was set on the proximity function, so as soon as I left the doorway, the door closed, drowning the room in darkness. I of course couldn't see where I was walking and tripped on some compression phaser rifles laying on the floor. Swearing loudly, I fell face first onto the floor.

Kathryn immediately called for the lights, but nothing happened. "Computer, acknowledge," she commanded after a moment.

"I think the light is just burnt out," I said. "I remember B'Elanna saying something about it last week. Apparently she hasn't had a chance to fix it yet."

"Great," Kathryn muttered, swearing softly as she bumped into something. "Are you OK?"

I told her I was fine, just bruised from my fall. I grunted as her boot came in contact with my side.

She apologized, bending down to kneel by me. Her hand came to rest on my chest and began feeling around. I knew she was just trying to find any injuries I might have suffered, but it set my mind reeling. It didn't take much for me to imagine she had a different reason for running her hands all over my body.

I tried to convince her I wasn't hurt. It took a few minutes before she finally believed me.

After that, we set to work on finding a way out. The door locked when it closed. It's a security function we keep turned on on the doors to all the weapons lockers. No use making it any easier for possible terrorists and such.

Normally a locked door wouldn't have been a problem. Both Kathryn and I have clearance for anything (well, almost anything) on Voyager, especially the weapons lockers. There are a lot of things aboard that require a much higher clearance.

However, that wasn't the problem. The problem was that the keypad for the door was on the other side of the door. Looking back on it, I suppose the designers weren't planning on people being stuck in the weapons locker, so why not save a little latinum and only put a keypad in the hallway outside it. Not exactly a comforting thought when you're actually stuck in there, but an unfortunate fact all the same.

So we were locked in.

Kathryn suggested climbing out an air vent or Jeffries tube, but the air vents are too small for even her to climb through, and there are no Jeffries tube access points in the weapons locker. I'm really going to have to talk to Starfleet about the design of these rooms when we get back. That is, if we get out first.

By that point our eyes were used to the dark and I could just make out Kathryn's form standing next to me. She was standing there in her usual hands on hips, I'm the Captain, don't mess with me stance. I knew if I was feeling useless standing there, she must be feeling even worse.

And to top it all off, we were on a mostly deserted deck with little traffic. That in itself wouldn't have been so bad if the communications system hadn't chosen that day to go haywire. We'd been having trouble with it all week, and B'Elanna couldn't figure out what was causing the problems. With the phaser malfunction she'd taken a few hours off to take care of that first.

Therefore, we were basically trapped in there. I figured it would be a while until we were missed, so I pushed the rifles out of the way and sat down on the floor.

Kathryn looked at me like I had two heads. "You're not giving up," she said, as though it was the most ludicrous idea in the universe.

"Of course not," I told her. "I just think better when I'm comfortable."

Sighing, she sat down next to me. I tried to reassure her, reminding her that giving up is not the end of the world. Eventually someone would notice how long we'd been gone and ask the computer about our whereabouts.

She nodded, but I could tell her heart wasn't really into it. Actually, her heart wasn't really into much of anything. I suggested discussing some work that was sitting on her desk, but she didn't even want to do that.

This was extremely strange behavior for Kathryn. Sure, women will often change their mind at the drop of a hat, but this was too drastic a turnaround for Kathryn. She's one of the most levelheaded people I've ever met.

So I called her on it. She tried passing it off as stress and too much work, but I didn't buy that for a minute. She's always under a lot of pressure, works herself too hard most of the time, and she's never acted like this.

I started analyzing the situation. I decided it had to be one of four things causing this sort of reaction. The dark, the small room, the locked door, or me. As you can imagine, I was hoping it was the latter.

Playing a hunch, I leaned over, trying to get her to look me in the eye. "Kathryn, you're not afraid of the dark, are you?"

She laughed, as I hoped she would. "Of course not, Chakotay. I would never have chosen a career in Starfleet if I were afraid of the dark."

"Then you must be claustrophobic."

"What makes you think that?"

"You're nervous," I explained, setting her up for the real question. "And I can't think of any other reason you might be nervous. Unless you course you're afraid to be in a dark room with me."

"Don't be silly," she tried to protest, but I could tell her heart wasn't into it. "I'm not afraid of you. I trust you."

"Yes," I replied. "But do you trust yourself?"

"Myself?" She gave a short laugh and I could almost see the panic on her face. "Why wouldn't I trust myself?"

I leaned in real close so our faces were almost touching. "I don't know, Kathryn. Why don't you tell me?"

We stayed like that, staring into each other's eyes for a long moment. She has beautiful eyes and I got a wonderful closeup of them. So deep blue, mesmerizing almost.

"Aw hell," she muttered, and the next thing I knew, we were kissing. I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say, Kathryn is one helluva kisser.

I was so surprised it took me a couple minutes before it finally sank in what we were doing. My first thought was of Kathryn, of course. Is she sure about this or is she just doing it because of the stress of our situation? Will she regret it tomorrow? I had to know.

"We'll talk later, Chakotay," she said before kissing me again.

Who am I to argue with the lady? I pulled her close, claiming her mouth in a fairly heated kiss. Things escalated pretty quick after that. Her hands roaming, mine doing the same to her.

We'd actually gone so far as to shed the uniform jackets and turtlenecks before being interrupted. One minute I'm rolling around the floor of the weapons locker with Kathryn in my arms, the next I'm staring over her shoulder up into the amused face of B'Elanna.

Kathryn groaned and buried her face, now flushed with embarrassment, into my chest. "Typical," I heard her murmur, "the first time we ..." She trailed off as she realized B'Elanna had heard as well.

Apparently the teams had finished checking the other phasers, but since we hadn't checked in, she'd come down to see if we were OK. As soon as we'd recovered enough to think straight, we thanked B'Elanna, told her about the light and went our separate ways.

As I walked off, leaving the scene of the crime so to speak, I remember wondering whether or not we'd still be having that talk later.

And so I sit here in Kathryn's quarters, thinking back on what happened today. I've said it before, and I'll say it again -- if I'd have known I'd have done it a long time ago. But maybe it's best that we didn't. Maybe we weren't meant to become lovers until now. I've never been much of a fatalist, but then again, I like to keep myself open to the possibilities.

Kathryn's asleep in the other room right now, and I have to wonder whether this will be the first and last time I get to see her like this. I certainly hope not. The gods know I'd love to be able to wake up to her every morning for the rest of my life. But it all depends on her.

Be gentle with my heart, Kathryn. It belongs to you for the rest of my life.

* * *

Kathryn Janeway stood in the doorway between her bedroom and living room, watching her lover finish his recording. 'Lover? No,' she answered herself. 'Chakotay's more than just a lover. Best friend, love, the other half of my soul.' She smiled, listening to his oration.

Chakotay closed his log and turned his back to her, staring out the window in thought. Silently, Kathryn tiptoed over to the replicator and dialed up two cups of coffee.

Chakotay was so lost in thought that it took him a moment to realize there was a hand attached to the mug that appeared in front of him. "You're awake," he said, looking up into Kathryn's eyes.

She smiled back at him. "And so are you. Wanna talk about it?"

"About what?" he asked, taking a sip of coffee.

"Whatever it is that had you so enthralled a minute ago," she replied.

"That depends," he said, "on whether it's later or not."

"Later?" she questioned, and then smiled as she recalled her comment earlier. "I suppose it is, Chakotay. I suppose it is."

The End

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