HEAT AND DUST

by vanhunks

a story pairing Janeway with a lower decks character.

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Janeway, Chakotay, certain lower decks characters, Voyager...

SUMMARY: A rewrite of the episode Gravity, in which Janeway [instead of Tuvok],  Paris and Noss and a lower decks character exist alone on a planet in the gravity well.

Note: Written for the GUESS THE PAIRING CONTEST [2009] on VAMB.

Of course, Janeway is a given here. You've got to guess the guy.

***

HEAT AND DUST

"I don't like doing this, my friend. You're the best officer on the security and engineering staff. We need all hands. As it's your express wish, you're to start duty on deck fourteen as of this moment. Just don't blame me if she recalls you to your proper duty, okay?"

"Thank you, sir."

"Dismissed."

He turned and left Chakotay's office, heading first for his own quarters. They'd had a long conversation in which he'd been frank with his friend, told him what happened in the gravity well, but left out personal details. Those things he left unsaid Chakotay sensed anyway.

Once in his cabin he sat down on his bed, burying his face in his hands. The tension slowly left him, tension that had built up over the past three days in which he'd tried his best to avoid her.

He looked at the picture on the bedstand. The two young boys laughed as if they'd jumped out of the photo to hug him.

She asked him about his sons… She…

He closed his eyes tightly, trying to blank out images of unbridled lust, trying to put her exactly where she needed to be – on the bridge, master and commander of an intrepid starship. What was he? Ex-Maquis absent father, too far down the chain of command to make demands... Lieutenant Nothing. He had no business, no business expecting anything in return, no business loving where it was forbidden.

Her image took him instantly to the dry, dusty planet, to their strange plight, their dire circumstances. And her image, free of restraint, followed him as he collected the photograph and one or two personal effects and made his way to the belly of the ship where no one would ask uncomfortable questions.

He hadn't expected there to be so little light in this section of the ship, but it made sense when it came to conserving power. He was going to like it here. It gave him time to reflect on what had happened between him and...her, on his future on the ship. He wanted to get home just like everyone. Remaining behind on the next M-class planet they encountered wasn't an option. He found a little cache where he put his favourite things from his quarters. The picture of his boys stood on a ledge from which the ground hover footpad system extended. He looked around him and found a little niche he could use as a seat.

Only Chakotay knew his exact location. He'd be left alone. It's the way he wanted it. The status quo demanded that he remain a subordinate. He sat down on the seat, vaguely aware of the reserve warp core also housed in this section along with the hover footpad system..

Now he could feed on his memories of being sucked into the gravity well, of the two of them, Paris and the doctor trapped with a lonely alien called Noss, the life they made on a planet of heat and dust.

Janeway had assessed their situation then declared, "We're in a galactic sinkhole."

Her words had had an ominous ring to them and for a few seconds his Maquis derring-do and Starfleet discipline had deserted him. He had felt a sliver of fear coursing through him. It was the look on her face, however, that brought them all back from the abyss of fear. It oozed courage, the kind that had made them all spring into action.

Tom had begun to calibrate to doctor's mobile emitter and brought the EMH online. They could translate Noss's language. The planet was dry, desert-like and very dusty, she'd told them, with very little food and water.

"And it reaches freezing temperatures during the night," she said, her eyes fixed on Tom Paris.

He thought Noss had developed an attachment for Paris in super quick time. But then, who wouldn't, after being trapped on the planet for fourteen years with only herself as company?

The cold got them alright. That first night he hardly slept. Their shuttle left very little shelter and Noss's ship had broken into two parts. Janeway and Noss could bunk down in one section; he and Tom had to create a makeshift shelter in the cabin section of the crashed shuttle.  

By morning they stood quivering, waiting for the sun to come up. While they thawed, they knew that soon they'd be exposed to intense heat and dust storms again.

That night Tom and Noss had bunked together. His own surprise at Tom's behaviour had soon made way for cold acceptance of their situation. They were sharing body heat, with all that it suggested. He envied Tom, whom he had last seen on Voyager in a rift-causing argument with Torres.

He had fixed a makeshift bed for the captain in the exposed cabin. She seemed very grateful for his help. Then he'd sat down at her feet and rubbed them to create warmth. He'd thrown both blankets they'd rummaged from the shuttle over her, ignoring her protests.

"Don't worry about me," he told her. "I'm Maquis, remember?"

"I remember you are a member of my crew, Lieutenant."

He had looked at her soberly in the semi-dark. "I'll work on the replicator tomorrow, rig something for warmth... Maybe replicate sunscreen..."

"I thought you're on Tuvok's team."

"Maquis, remember?" he repeated. "I've worked with Torres during our Maquis days. Even helped in Engineering on Voyager..."

"Did I underestimate you?" she asked, her voice low, her speech slow, like she was on the point of falling asleep.

He doubted that she heard his 'maybe', for she'd fallen asleep.

But it was like dying a second time as he tried to sleep. The cold seeped into his bones with no sign of abating. He had leaned against a piece of the shuttle's bulkhead, shivering furiously trying to instil order in his chaotic thoughts, watching her silent sleeping form.

I am going to die in a galactic sinkhole…

By morning, he woke with a start, realising that he was stiff, frozen. She was still sleeping soundly, so he rose with creaking bones and staggered to where the sun would first touch the ground. He'd realised that nothing he'd ever experienced in the Maquis had been remotely close to the terrifying circumstances they were in, the extreme cold, the extreme heat, no food, little water. There was no wood, no trees for kilometres around them, nothing that they could burn for warmth. The landscape had desert features, with rocky outcrops here and there. Noss had shown them the first day to hunt for food – spiders and the surprise of a few tubers which they roasted using their phasers.

He had spent the day working in the scorching heat on the replicator while she worked with the EMH and Paris on recalibrating the distress beacon for launching, setting up perimeters and repairing the field generator. They had to find a way to let Voyager know. They knew that Voyager would leave no stone unturned to find them, and at some point before the sinkhole imploded on them, they'd be rescued. She'd surmised that Torres and Seven of Nine could work to send a transporter relay via the distress beacon.

That night, exhausted from the heat of the day, the search for food and working to get the replicator functioning, he waited for her to change into a track pants and long-sleeved sweater which she thankfully replicated, ordering him and Tom to do likewise. After that they could only use it for food. He'd been exhausted but too proud to admit how tired he had been.

"You require rest, Lieutenant."

"I can handle it. Don't worry, Captain."

"You know the...the other two are sharing a bed..."

"Aye..."

Her eyes had a strange look in them. He didn't want to think what it meant. So he kept his gaze on the moon that had risen and hovered silently in the inky sky.

"Take the blanket, Lieutenant."

"You'll freeze to death, Captain," he'd said, beginning to rub her feet again without looking her in the eyes.

She hadn't responded, instead, her eyes had become reflective. Later, she shifted on her side. He'd noticed how she liked to lie on her side. He sat back, his head against the bulkhead, trying to sleep. It was difficult. His body had shuddered from time to time.

Later, he woke sluggishly, to feel his hand being pulled.

"We need to share our body heat," she'd said softly. "It's the only way. You need this, Lieutenant."

Something had exploded behind his eyelids. He'd avoided that reality from the moment they crashed on this planet, from the moment in fact, that Noss and Paris had made their decision to sleep together.

"I... it's not right..."

"But it's the correct thing to do right now. You're freezing to death." 

So she lifted the blankets for him to slide in behind her. He was deeply troubled, his body stiff and reluctant, even as she took his hand to bring it around her waist. She was his superior, too high in the chain of command to... Another explosion. A dream of forbidden fruit, of being an unequal and daring to fantasise a situation exactly like this. Her body felt soft against his hardness, soft and pliable and pleasurable. He exercised superhuman restraint not to get hard. His face was buried in her hair that still smelled of apple and brandy shampoo. He inhaled cautiously, afraid to let go, yet thrilling in holding her, the warmth already beginning to seep into him.

"Relax, Lieutenant," she ordered in the silence of the cabin.

He tried to. God help him, he tried. It wasn't possible. He kept thinking of his old dreams of her, of  thinking that there'd never be the remotest possibility that they'd be like this. He kept smelling her hair, even the faint echo of her perfume . It made him insane with pent-up need.

Then she clasped his hand in hers and moved them downwards.

No...no... please, I will not be able to help myself...

He tried to stop, pull his hand out of hers, but she was determined, sure of herself. She let his hand rest over her soft belly, his thumb skimming the rise of her breast, then his hand traveled lower down...  He was going to die of hunger and of shame. He stopped.

"Captain...I - "

"Shhh..."

The heat began to rush through him. When he felt his arousal jut against her back, he knew he'd lost, because she rubbed herself into him, inciting him further. Groaning with need he pressed into her.

"Yes..." she whispered, turning on her back. She pulled the top over her breasts and in the pale light of the moon they gleamed like taut globes. He sucked in his breath.

God help me... I crave this. I am anguished.

**

Memories of that night swamped him, betrayed by his damp cheeks. He thought how his hands and fingers and mouth had become instruments of pleasure. His fingers, tentative at first, found her cleft, the wet warmth despite the icy cold of the night. Her eyes smouldered, heavy with want. Her nipples had seemed to quiver in the night air and drawn hungrily to them, he had quickly captured one in his mouth, almost dying from the heat, the pure pleasure of tasting her.

She'd shifted to help him remove her pants. She was burning hot. His fingers had caressed the soft curls at her centre in a tentative, searching gesture until he heard her moan impatiently. He'd stopped, looking into her hungry eyes. She pulled his head to her and brushed her lips against his.

A groan of rapture escaped him as he'd nudged a finger inside and found her wet. She writhed, pushed against him, allowing him the complete exploration of her body. A hard kiss only served to incite him further. He let his thumb graze her hard nub as he slipped out of her core. Her hands were not still either as nails scored his flesh when she tore his trousers over his hips. A waft of air, then her hand clasped him, the heat of it searing into his very soul.

He looked at her, still hesitating to move. She pulled him over her, shifting to let him settle between her thighs. He was breathing hard; she was ready, yet he thrust his hand between their bodies and felt for her softness again, finding her clit and stroking it gently. She gave a little cry and when he guided his shaft into her, felt how utterly tight she was. He reeled from the pleasure of her centre clamping around his cock, waiting that she could adjust to his size. But her impatience made her greedy as she bucked her hips. He gave the final thrust deep into her. Their bodies heaved and he couldn't think, all manner of thought and objections having fled as he filled her.

They climaxed together, crying out in half joy and half despair. He collapsed, spilling shamefully into her. They lay gasping until their bodies became calmer. She had gotten up quietly and when she returned, had cleaned his semen from her body.  She snuggled closer to him, wriggling until she felt secure and relaxed. He had lain awake long after she had drifted into slumber. Deep in the night he awoke to find her hand covering his length, his shaft as hard as it had been the first time. For a second time that night they rolled and heaved together until they crashed over the edge...

**

Too restless to relax, he got up, unable to shake off the memories of heat and dust. The following morning he'd gotten up and walked to search for the first rays of the sun. Strange how in the two months they had been trapped in that sinkhole, he had gone every single morning to greet the rising sun. That morning he stood near a rocky outcrop and gazed over the horizon, his mind in a turmoil of what had happened between him and the captain. He blushed at the images evoked, her generous giving, his own hunger, their need to keep warm... It had to stop.

Yet the minute her hand touched his shoulder, any resolve to stop it dissolved, even as he stiffened at her touch. Her eyes held nothing but a quiet determination that what happened had been very real, very desired.

"I wanted it to happen," she'd said, her gaze challenging.

"What about Chakotay?" had been his concern.

"What about Chakotay? Everyone saw what he wanted to see - captain and commander making out, becoming an item to stroke their romantic egos. We have a friendship, an enduring one, understand?"

He'd nodded, finally assured that he wasn't dreaming anymore, that the woman he had fantasised about from almost the beginning could make him feel again. The nagging feeling of always being unequal began to dissipate. He touched her cheek, embracing their new freedom cautiously.

"You're okay?"

"First-time-in-a-long-time soreness, but I'm fine. I feel...good."

They had watched the sun come up and she had joined him every morning looking as the golden-red disc rose over the horizon.

They met up with the others and held morning meetings to discuss the day's work - finding food, finding new shelter, calibrating the beacons to receive confirmation of their plight. The rest of the day the EMH went offline to conserve energy, Tom and Noss went searching for food, replicating only water and a few very basic food items. The four of them used the rest of the time in any useful way they could.

So they spent every night making love, keeping warm. He loved to touch her, loved to kiss her. She was unafraid, as if she'd always thought of him as a mate. He found her breasts irresistible, and constantly latched his mouth on them. Her skin was soft, the daily sunscreen regimen really paying off. Even after two weeks he couldn't believe his good fortune that she'd been all woman, all allure during their lovemaking. Most nights they'd lain tightly together to conserve warmth after they'd made love.

Once they were rescued, they'd revert to the Voyager status quo where their positions on the ship would once again come into play. But on the dry planet during the day, they sought one another out. Sometimes they were just plain brazen, making love on the hard ground kilometres away from the crash site, lying totally naked for a few minutes afterwards, enjoying touching, connecting.

Other days she wanted him to be rough, even when he didn't want to be. They rutted sometimes unashamedly as if they couldn't have enough of each other, as if they'd all die in the next second.  Afterwards they lay exhausted, replete, she smiling wondrously at him.

Then there were days they were quiet, thinking about Voyager, about home.

"I had a fiancé, but he moved on," she told him. "I was saddened that he could do that while I was always hoping..."  She paused a few seconds. "You?"

"I had a wife. She left me before I joined the Maquis. Shacked up with another man on a planet far away from the DMZ. I have two little boys. Javier is nine years old now and Everard is seven. Selina left them with her mother... I didn't want to leave them..."

"You miss them..."

"Every day."  He had given a sigh. Then she'd held him close against her bosom while he spent the next few minutes missing his sons.

One day Tom Paris cornered him.

"You're fucking our captain."

"It's none of your business, Paris. Don't insult her."

"I'm not. We're basically surviving here. It was going to happen. I'm not mad, if you must know. Noss is going with us as soon as we're rescued. She wants to transport to her homeworld."

"You're leaving her? She's in love with you, man."

"I have a situation. You know that."

"Yeah. But I'm sure you'll resolve it. Crew'd been talking how Torres got into knots around Chakotay..."

"Had a big fight over that. Now...with Noss..."  Paris had paused tellingly, then shook his head. "But will you resolve yours?" Tom asked.

He still owed Paris an answer.

*

They were rescued two months after their shuttle crashed on the planet and the gravity well was permanently closed. Kathryn had been as brilliant as ever, determining the exact moment after receiving a message from Voyager that they'd be ready to transport to Voyager.

They returned to discover that only two days had passed while they had spent two months on the planet. Captain Janeway had thanked them all for the roles they played in the rescue, gave him a well-meaning look before she headed to her quarters. He knew it was over. He had no illusions.

Now, three days later, he found living on Voyager unbearable.

On that dry, dusty planet they'd made love in the icy cold of night and on most days in the heat of the landscape, their movements whipping up the dust around them. They'd lain on their backs completely naked and ran loose sand through their fingers like two excited children. Many days they'd sit and watch the mirage, the shimmering created by light and hot air, and imagining wondrous animals and images caused by the distortion.

They had been equals then.

Now she was back being the captain, and he as low on the lowest decks of the ship. He had no part in her life anymore. He had no right to her. There could be nothing between them, nothing of any importance. How would it look if she shacked with him on the ship? The captain and her boy, her eunuch. The crew would scorn him.

She was too good and he, not worth kissing her feet, even though he did enough of kissing and licking and nipping every inch on her willing body.

It was why he wanted to be reassigned to the ship's belly. He didn't want to see her. Didn't want to dream again of possibilities, didn't want to be embarrassed. He was dead certain most of the crew knew by now that they had slept together 'to survive', ostensibly.

They had never spoken of love. Never.

He buried his face in his hands again, felt again the betraying dampness.

A hand touched his arm. Her hand. He looked up. She was kneeling in front of him. He never heard her coming.

"You can't hide down here..." she said.

"I can never belong to you, or you to me," he said sadly. "I understand, you know. You're the captain and I - "

She had something in her other hand, a PADD she proffered him.

"Look at this, please..."   Her eyes were serious, expectant.

The PADD was already active, so he just looked at it.

A great welling of emotion overcame him. He felt as if a hand punched him in the gut and he sucked in his breath and painfully expelled it. There it was, the evidence of their liaison so clear as if he could already hold it in his hands.

"A girl?" he said, his eyes filling with tears.

"Look at me, please?" the captain whispered.

He met her gaze.

"She's ours. I want her to know her daddy, to have him around her as often as only a father can be..."

He was stunned by her words, the smile that crept into her face so wondrous he wanted to drown.

"A girl," he said again with such awe that Kathryn gave a low chuckle.

Then she became serious again, her gaze unwavering.

"I am not ashamed of what has happened between us, my love. I will not hide it either. This is my choice. I live it and I will die by it. I'd like to share my quarters with you. I'd like to marry you...if you'll have me..."

He found her words awe-inspiring, the one thing sticking in his brain that she loved him.

"You love me...?"

"It happened very quietly, maybe that first night we made love."

"They'll laugh - "

"They'll laugh because they'll be happy for us. I want you to remember this: in our quarters we are equals in every way, okay?"

He stood up and pulled her up with him. Finally he could look at her, hold her very close, caress her hair, stroke her cheek with a trembling finger.

"I love you very much. Will you marry me?"

"Oh, yes. Who knows, a couple of years from now we'll be home and show little Graciana to her older brothers!"

"Graciana?"

"Yes. We can call her Gracie."

"I'd like that. I'd like that very much."

********

end