The Alpha Flyer

by Spiletta42


Rating: T™©


printer friendly

Warnings: None

Categories: Ship, Het, Romance, Alpha Quadrant

Pairings: Janeway/Chakotay

Characters: Janeway, Chakotay

Spoilers: Homecoming

A/N: Set during Christie Golden's Homecoming novel, released June 3, 2003. If you haven't seen the chapter leading up to this moment, it can be found in the back of the Endgame novelization by Diane Carey. Of course, now that Homecoming is out, as are three novels following it, this is no longer canonically accurate.

Disclaimer: All Paramounts, and if only they'd be bothered to let them move forward, perhaps I wouldn't have had to do this.

The Alpha Flyer

"You'll always be Captain to me."
"I certainly hope not."

He'd been kidding.

She was not.

Their eyes met. The moment, seven long years in the making, was here.

"Of course not, Kathryn." The words, barely a whisper.

The tiny craft had no need of a co-pilot. She stood.

Two steps. Two tiny, agonizingly slow steps. "I don't want to be your captain. Your captain could never do this."

She leaned down, her lips brushing his, moving tenderly. Her tongue reached to lightly stroke his lower lip.

"Kathryn." His arms came up to wrap around her, pulling her into his lap.

The kiss deepened, tongues exploring, dueling slowly and hotly, savoring a taste so long desired. Hands caressed faces; fingers ran through hair; bodies pressed together.

How long it continued, neither knew. Forever, and yet not nearly long enough.

The evidence of his arousal was unmistakable against her thigh. She turned, straddling him, and pressed herself against it.

He groaned.

Her hands went to work on his shirt.

"Kathryn, we could wait - "

"Long enough. We've waited long enough."

"At least let me tell you that I love you."

"Tell me after, my love." She laughed softly against his neck. Her hands slid into his shirt to explore his smooth chest. "I intend to show you most thoroughly."

"Can't argue with that," he gasped. His hands tangled in her hair and he let her push the shirt from his shoulders.

Her tongue followed the path her fingers had taken, dancing over his hot flesh. Her warm breath tickled his skin, and he could barely make out the word she kept repeating.


Finally indeed. His hands went to work on her dress. He had planned on seducing her after dinner, but this... She was rapidly erasing his ability to think at all.

Her tongue teased his nipple, and his groan fueled the urgency of her own desire. Her hands fumbled with the closure to his trousers. His hands captured hers.

She looked into his eyes, and saw the love burning there. She watched as he lifted each of her hands in turn, pressing wet kisses into her palms.

Together, they tried to make up for seven long years of fantasy and denial. Finally, too exhausted to move, they lay together and savored their new relationship.

Home, at last. Together, at last. Peace, at last.

Inevitably, they were interrupted.

The interruption was a distress call, on Starfleet channels. Both froze at the words they heard through the static. "Earth...The Borg..."

Sorry, folks, but I have no idea what happens next. Why don't you check out Homecoming by Christie Golden?


A gift from Dakota.

This transformative work constitutes a fair use of any copyrighted material as provided for in section 107 of the US Copyright Law. Star Trek™©, Star Trek: The Next Generation™©, Star Trek: Voyager™© and related properties exist as Registered Trademarks of Paramount Pictures. No copyright infringement intended. No profits made here. © Spiletta42, August 2002.