Lending an Ear
By Ralkana

Disclaimer – I don’t own them; Paramount does. I think if I owned them, they’d have been much, much happier!

Comments and feedback to Ralkana47@yahoo.com would be greatly appreciated. Thanks!

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"Kathryn, do you have any replicator rations left that I might be able to borrow?"

Kathryn looked up from the report she was skimming, curious at both the strange question and the tone in Chakotay’s voice. He was staring vacantly out the ready room viewport at the streaking stars, and his voice had sounded very far away. She frowned slightly at his words; she could not remember Chakotay ever having asked her for rations before.

"No," she said slowly. "I’m sorry, I don’t. Whatever you’re craving, though, you can have it tomorrow morning… or even tonight if you wait long enough. It’s the last day of the month; the rations reset at midnight."

At her first words, he suddenly snapped back to reality. His face fell when he heard her response, but he schooled his expression into blankness, and then nodded and smiled briefly at her. She could tell, however, that he was not satisfied with her solution.

"What is it, Chakotay?" she asked, interest piqued.

He shook his head. "It’s nothing." When she glared at him, he sighed. "I was wishing for an ear of hot, roasted, buttered corn. It’s one of the first crops that was transplanted to Trebus, and it’s done very well there… did very well there," he said in a brief flash of anger, his brow furrowing. After a moment—which she willingly gave him—the anger dissipated. He relaxed some and smiled wistfully. "It was my mother’s favorite. It’s her birthday today, and I thought…" He trailed off and then sighed again. "It was just an idea."

Her heart ached at the resignation in his tone. "Oh, Chakotay. I’m sorry. Believe me, if I had rations, they’d be yours." She felt a pang of guilt as she realized it was her fault he didn’t have any rations left. Not only had she skimmed off the top of his rations for coffee as she did every month, but two weeks previously it had been her birthday. He had given her a wonderful dinner and a lovely gift that she was sure had taken up most of his rations for the month. She thought for a moment and then said, "Why don’t you ask B'Elanna?"

"Nah. It’s not that important," he said, and she could tell he was uncomfortable with that idea. He put down the padd he had been toying with and stood up. "Well, I should probably get out there and make sure the terrible twosome haven’t driven Tuvok completely insane."

She stood with him and rested her hand on his forearm. "Chakotay, I can’t give you corn, but do you want some company for dinner? We can brave Neelix’ cooking together, if you’d like."

He nodded and smiled, and it was more genuine this time. "Thanks, Kathryn. I would like that." He placed his hand briefly over hers before turning and walking onto the bridge.

Kathryn stared out the viewport for a moment and then moved to her desk. She switched on her console with determination and began scrolling through all the status reports until she found the table of rations. Hmm… B'Elanna has a few left, and so does Harry. She saw the biggest number and grimaced. And there’s always Seven; she never uses her rations. She didn’t want to ask Seven unless she had to because the ex-drone would ask awkward questions and fail to see the relevance of Kathryn’s actions. She took one last look at the screen and headed out on her mission.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

That night, Kathryn rushed around her quarters picking things up, knowing that he would call her shortly to go to dinner. She set the table with her good china, praying as she always did that nothing would happen that would send it crashing to the deck. As she did, she thought of how she’d gotten the rations.

It had been ridiculously easy, actually. B'Elanna had caved in immediately when Kathryn mentioned it was for a surprise for Chakotay, and Harry had been so shocked when she’d asked him that he’d simply nodded, wide-eyed. Between them, they had given her enough rations for a meal for two, and she hadn’t had to approach Seven after all. She hoped he would be sufficiently taken aback by the gesture to wonder too much about it, and if he did ask, she hoped he wouldn’t be angry with her. She sighed gratefully as she cleaned up the last of the clutter. Then, she approached her replicator with trepidation.

"Look," she said firmly. "I know we don’t get along. I know you like nothing better than to embarrass and humiliate me in front of Chakotay. But I’m doing this for him—you like him, I know you do—and I don’t have any extra rations to waste, so please, please, please work right the first time."

She took a deep breath and programmed in a bowl of salad, four ears of buttered, roasted sweet corn and a bottle of wine. The replicator worked for a few minutes and then beeped accommodatingly, and Kathryn almost cried with relief when she saw that everything looked as it should.

"Thank you," she murmured as she put the food on the table. "I promise I’ll never call you names again."

She had just finished pouring the wine when her combadge chirped. "Chakotay to Janeway."

"Hello, Chakotay."

"Ready for dinner, Kathryn?"

"Almost… why don’t you stop by my quarters before you head to the messhall, Chakotay?"

There was a brief pause, and then he said, "All right. I’m on my way. Chakotay out."

Kathryn tried not to pace in the few minutes before his arrival. When the door chimed, she called for entry almost before the sound of the chime had finished.

"Are you rea—what’s all this?" he asked, surprised. He took a few steps closer and saw what was in the covered dish on the table, and he looked up, eyes wide, to see her smiling nervously at him. "Kathryn? How…" He shook his head as if to clear it. "Never mind. I guess it doesn’t really matter how. Why?"

She shrugged. "You’ve always taken care of me, made sure I got comfort food when I needed it. I figured it was long past time to return the favor." She glanced at the replicator. "I hope it tastes as good as it looks," she added.

"And smells," he said, lifting off the lid of the dish and breathing in the fragrant steam. He covered the dish again and looked at her, and his dark eyes were suspiciously liquid and bright. He took her hands in his. "Thank you, Kathryn. This was very thoughtful of you." His voice wavered just slightly and he looked away again. "Let’s eat!" he said after a moment, pulling out her chair for her.

They talked of inconsequential things as they ate, and she watched him enjoy his dinner, supremely glad she had followed through on her instincts to do this for him. He didn’t ask about her methods, but he eyed her speculatively a couple of times, and she knew she would have to ‘fess up eventually. She heaved an inward sigh of relief at the thought that she hadn’t told either of the donors exactly what the rations were for.

After the food was gone, they took their wine to the living area, relaxing as their conversation continued. At a break in the flow of words, Chakotay leaned forward to pour them both another glass of wine, and Kathryn took the opportunity to study him. He looked much more centered and at peace than he had that morning, and she decided to push him, just a little.

"Chakotay…" she began, and he looked up, eyebrow raised. "Tell me about your mother."

He stared at her for a moment, surprised, and then he looked down at the deck, as if for inspiration.

"She was beautiful," he said with the wistful smile she'd seen earlier when he'd mentioned his mother. Then, he chuckled. "I guess all little boys think that about their mothers, but she was. And so smart. My father loved her very much, and so did I; it was the one thing we always agreed on." He laughed. "I remember, she used to yell that she was glad the spirits had gifted her with so much patience, since they had also gifted her with such contrary men in her life. One time when I was a child…"

The wine had loosened his tongue and her spirits, and he began to tell her stories of his boyhood that had her doubled over, gasping with laughter. Eventually, he moved on to tales of his later years on Trebus, times when his relationship with father had been strained and it had affected his relationship with his mother, and she could hear the regrets swimming in his voice. She put her hand in his and he looked up and smiled gratefully at her.

"She would have loved you," he said softly. He raised a hand to briefly touch the ends of her hair. "She would have said you were a spirited woman, that you were good for me. She would have called it a good match."

Chakotay’s eyes widened as he realized what he’d said, and he quickly looked down at his empty wineglass. She was immeasurably touched by his sincere words, but before she could tell him so, he set his glass down on the table and stood, and she hastily stood with him.

"It’s getting late; I should go," he said, and she could hear the unease in his voice. He thought he’d stepped over the line, and he was trying to get out of the way before she called him on it. "Thank you for a wonderful dinner, Kathryn. I can’t tell you how much it meant to me." He headed toward the door, and she placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. He turned to look at her, and though his face was blank, his eyes were apprehensive.

"You’re welcome, Chakotay. I…" She took a deep breath and forged on. "I’m very glad that you think your mother would approve of me," she said, quirking a grin at him. He glanced away, and she placed her hand on his cheek, bringing his eyes back to hers. He looked somewhat stunned at the intimacy of the contact. "I know without a doubt that my mother will approve wholeheartedly of you, someday," she said, and her voice was completely even, though there was a question in her eyes.

Though his face didn’t change, he couldn’t stop the overwhelming joy that surged through him and leapt into his eyes, and she smiled in relief as her unspoken question was answered rather decisively in the affirmative.

Chakotay closed his eyes as her words swept through him, and he clung to them with his entire spirit. It was more than she had ever given him before, and he let the words wrap around his heart and soothe his weary soul. He reached up and grasped her hand in his, briefly bringing it to his lips. The gentle kiss was there and gone before she even registered it, but she felt the light caress of his fingers over her knuckles like a blow to the solar plexus. It took her breath away.

"Someday," he repeated in a murmur, squeezing her hand one last time. "Good night, Kathryn, and thank you. Sleep well," he said, and then he was gone.

Kathryn stared at the door for a moment longer, took a shaky breath, and began to clean up and prepare for the next day.