AUTHOR: Sally
SUMMARY: A meeting remembered
RATING: NC-17
DISCLAIMER: Voyager belongs to Paramount, worse luck, while the title and the inspiration comes from Toby Keith and whoever wrote the song Dream Walkin’ (I left the tape box in the car!)
NOTE: This is the NC-17 rework of my story, Dream Walkin’

“You’re Star Fleet,” he accused.

“So?” she asked, with a toss of her hair.

“I’m ex-Star Fleet,” he replied.

She smiled. “So? That makes it easier then. We won’t run into each other again after tonight.”

“I suppose.” He took a swig out of his bottle of ale.

She peered at him. “You got a problem with screwing a Star Fleet officer?”

He lowered the bottle back to the counter. “Not when she’s as sexy as you are,” he winked.

“Good answer.” In one swift move she picked up her own glass and drained it. “Well, I’m ready whenever you are.”

They had met earlier, in a San Francisco bar not usually frequented by members of Star Fleet. It was low lit and they had stumbled into each other, headed in different directions. Apologies on both sides had led to drinks and a conversation, which had led to a proposition. “No names,” she insisted. “For once, no names so neither of us has to feel the guilt tomorrow morning.” He’d agreed readily, entranced by her auburn hair and blazing green eyes.

They left the bar and walked at a fair pace, arm in arm. He was chivalrous, she pretended to appreciate it. He held doors open for her, she thanked him politely. Neither was as drunk as passers-by might have thought.

At the entrance to his apartment he stopped and looked at her. “Are you still okay with this?” he asked, praying that she’d say yes while wanting to give her a way out if she needed it.

“I’m not a virgin if that’s what you mean!” she retorted, pushing his door open since he’d already unlocked it, and walking in.

He blinked and shook his head. He’d never met anyone like her. And now he’d have the pleasure of knowing her for one night only.

“Excuse the mess,” he said, following her in. “I’m moving out tomorrow.”

She stood in the middle of the pile of boxes. “Where to?”

He grinned. “Why should I tell you?” His expression then turned serious. “To be honest, I don’t know. I just know I’ve got to get away from here.”

“So what are you going to do with all this?” She gestured to the mess around them.

“I don’t know. Leave it, I guess.” He shrugged. “If you want anything, take it.” He took his jacket off and flung it on top of one of the boxes. “Who cares for now anyway? We’ve got better things to think about.”

She smiled as he wrapped an arm around her waist. “I like your style, mister,” she told him as they headed in the direction of his bedroom.

He led her through the mass of boxes, picking her up to step over the clothing that he had piled up earlier before going out to the bar. She nestled smugly into his arms, her lips dancing over his neck, covering it with soft kisses. When they got to his bed he laid her gently down upon it, wanting to be delicate with this special gift. He realised that he probably should be more abandoned about his actions, their actions, but he wanted to take his time, to savour this perfect being that was now lying on his bed, staring up at him with expectant eyes.

“Coming down?” she whispered with a gleam in her eye and a smile on her face. She lifted up her arms to him, placing her hands around his neck, forcing him down.

“In a moment,” he replied. He disengaged himself from her grasp and leaned back a little. Slowly he began to undo the buttons of her shirt, revealing the plain white bra and milky skin underneath, and a slow smile appeared. “You are beautiful woman,” he told her. With just a few movements she was out of the shirt and he pushed it out of the way before lowering his head to her stomach. He kissed her soft skin then blew gently across it, causing her to shiver at the warmth of his breath.

“Mmm,” she moaned. “That feels good.” She ran her fingers through his hair as he kept his head bowed over her. His tongue trailed a pattern across the bottom of her ribcage and her breath tightened.

Suddenly he pulled away from her, instantly feeling guilty when he saw how upset she was. “Only for a moment,” he murmured, raising her up slightly to lift her bra-top over her head. She was revealed to him in an almost full beauty. Almost for he had yet to see the whole of her, yet to see her truly. As he flung the white item over to join her shirt he lowered his head again, nipping away at her peaks, watching them grow dark with desire. His teeth grazed her breasts while his fingers drifted down below them, to run against the edge of her pants.

She appeared to come alive at that point. Her own fingers began to wrestle with the buttons of his shirt, trembling as she attempted to undo them without being able to see them. With a hint of desperation she wrenched the material apart with a seemingly superhuman strength. “Oops,” she muttered as the buttons went flying. She showed no remorse at the damage, however, as she pulled the material from him and pushed him back to the point where she could place searing hot kisses across his chest.

He sat back, forcing her to move with him also, and her legs grasped at him around his waist. Their hands now roamed to their waists, fingers tangling as they hastened to undo the remainder of their clothing. They laughed and he smacked her hands away so that he could undress both of them. There was a slight shuffling and his breath caught as pants and underwear were finally removed.

She was beautiful, a complete vision. All he could do for a minute was stare at her, and push to the back of his mind the regret he felt at having to leave in the morning. He knew at that moment that he could never leave her and yet he had to. Why had the spirits done this to him? How could they?

“What is it?” she asked timidly. “Why are you looking so sad?”

He shook his head. “I feel like I’ve been looking for you all my life,” he whispered. “And now I have to leave you. I don’t want to leave you.”

“Then don’t.” Her hand went out to stroke his cheek. “Don’t leave me.”

“But I have to go.”

“I know,” she replied. “I know you do. But I won’t let you leave me.” Her hands moved around to stroke his bare back. “In the meantime, just love me.”

“I can do that,” he told her. He leaned back across her, covering her body with his own, and began to kiss his way down her skin. His fingers ran ahead of his lips, finally coming to rest just above where her curls ended. She shuffled, trying to persuade him to move further down and eventually he complied, moving the tips of his fingers tantalizingly close to her centre.

“More,” she groaned. “I need more, damnit.”

He was momentarily surprised by her sudden aggressiveness as her hands began to run up and down his back, forcing him even closer to her, at a furious rate. Finally her hand clutched at his backside, so that he was rubbing up against her. Aware that his hand was now trapped between them he hastily removed it. “You seem to be in a hurry, my lady,” he murmured.

“Can I help it if I want you?” she purred back.

He slid to the side of her, so that he lay against her hip, and began to caress her core. He lay on his side, his fingers lazily slipping in and out of her; slowly creating a slick wetness that only enabled his movements further. His length pressed along her skin, increasing as the temperature inside her rose. He probed deeper, rubbing the thumb across her nub and up into her curls, causing her to rise off the bed as she began to spasm. “Oh god,” she moaned, as she gulped for air.

He moved back over her, rubbing his length along her wet opening, and pushed himself up so that he centered his weight on his arms. His tip brushed against her once, twice, and then with a burst of strength he pushed inside her. He paused momentarily to watch her face for any signs of discomfort but there were none, just a blissful smile instead. “Mmm,” she said lazily. So encouraged he pulled slightly back before he thrust sharply back into her. He began to create a rhythm within her, pushing, pausing, withdrawing, going deeper with each thrust. He reveled in the feel of her inner muscles clenching around him, her wetness enveloping him. Until finally he could take it no longer and came fast within her.

He woke early, just as the sun was rising. Already she was gone. “Damn,” he muttered as he noticed the empty space beside him. Something did catch his eye, however. A yellow rose in a long-necked beer bottle. He pushed himself up onto elbow and leaned over to inhale the scent. Next to the bottle, resting flat on the bedside table, was a piece of paper. “I had a good time,” was written on it in bright red. He smiled. No name still. He got up and staggered around the apartment, gathering the few items he would take with him on his travels. When he got into the living room he made another discovery. She had obviously taken him up on his offer of taking anything if she’d wanted it. She’d taken his denim jacket.

Over the coming years he found himself thinking of her. He’d had one-night stands before and gone on with his life without a backward glance. So why was he having such problems this time around. Despite the exhaustive state he was often in after a day of battle his sleep would often be restless. He’d wake up, having dreamt of a woman with auburn hair and green eyes. And it happened more than once.

Until he found himself one day staring into the most brilliant set of green eyes he’d ever seen and wondering if he was still dreaming. But she had a more austere look to her face and the once flowing hair was pulled tightly back into a bun. More than that though, she knew his name. And then he knew hers.

Kathryn Janeway.

And she had been sent by Star Fleet to capture him. She didn’t tell him that exactly but her saying she was sent to find him meant the same thing. Why else would a Star Fleet vessel be stranded out here, having arrived shortly after his ship had?

They each had a crew-member missing. “You and I have the same problem. I think it makes sense to try and solve it together, don’t you?”

He’d agreed, just as he’d agreed to the whole no-name deal. But at least he’d have Tuvok to blame this time. Only Tuvok had turned out to be on her side. So perhaps it was his fault anyway.

He, Tuvok and Ayala had transported over, armed. He wanted to trust her but he couldn’t be absolutely certain. However, she’d proven instantly that they didn’t need the weapons, and in fact had managed to defeat him with mere words when he’d challenged Tom. She was a force to be reckoned with and she wanted to get Harry and B'Elanna back before heading home. And he had no doubt that he’d be headed back to the Alpha Quadrant under armed guard. His days of freedom were over.

To his surprise, showing that he’d once again underestimated her, she’d chosen not to use the array to return them all to Federation space. He was still reeling over his own decision to sacrifice his own ship in order to save hers while she was ordering Tuvok to destroy the array. But the peace he felt in such an act. It was a peace he hadn’t felt since… since he woke up that morning before he realised she’d gone.

It would be three more years of working together and forming a close friendship before he summoned up the courage one night after dinner to ask for his jacket back.

“Ooops, sorry,” she grinned. “It wasn’t something I thought I’d need on a three week mission.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “So where is it then?”

“I don’t know. Sorry.” She grinned again. “But you did say to help yourself,” she pointed out.

“I didn’t think you’d take the very jacket I’d been wearing.”

“Should have said so, then,” Kathryn retorted. “Really, Chakotay. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

He shook his head and smiled sadly. “I didn’t. Not really. I was flattered that you’d want a souvenir from that night.”

Her response was to throw a pillow at him. “When are you going to get rid of that ego, Chakotay?”

He laughed. “Hey, what’s a guy to think when a woman pretty much throws herself at him and tells him no names?”

“I was young,” she waved a hand in the air as if to demonstrate her point. “I’d had a bad day.”

“Bad day?” he repeated. “Couldn’t have been as bad as mine was. That was the day I got word about my father dying. In that one day I’d resigned from Star Fleet and decided to leave San Francisco.”

“Oh, Chakotay,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” he smiled, taking her hand. “If anything you convinced me there was still life to be enjoyed, that there could be a purpose. I decided to head home, do what needed to be done and then, maybe, return to San Francisco to see if you still frequented that same awful bar.”

She laughed. “It wasn’t a haunt of mine to begin with. I don’t even know how I ended up there.”

“Then it would have taken me a long time to find you.”

She bit back a laugh. “Looks like I found you instead.” But then the laughter escaped. “Oh, what a situation, Chakotay.”

“I know. You just had to make me a member of your crew, didn’t you?”

“Stabbed myself in the back with that one,” she agreed ruefully. “You do understand, don’t you?”

He nodded. “No more stealing of denim jackets until we get back to the Alpha Quadrant. I know. But the moment we do get back…” He left the statement open ended but she knew his intention.

“You’re insatiable, Chakotay,” she told him.

“Well, at least I can safely say that that’s your fault.” He yawned. “Oh great, tired and I bet I won’t sleep tonight.”

“Oh?” she queried. “And why’s that?”

He grinned. “Trust me, you don’t want to know. But it’s to do with a recurring dream that I keep having.” He stood up to go and turned back to face his captain. “One question though, why a yellow rose?”

She shrugged. “Why not? If you really want to know, ask Boothby next time you’re in your boxing simulation. He’s an authority on roses.”

“Maybe I will,” he nodded. “Well, goodnight, Kathryn.”

“Goodnight, Chakotay. Sweet dreams.”

He laughed. “Yeah, right. Actually, Captain. Permission to sleep in tomorrow?”

She cocked her head at him. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I’m sick of waking up midway through the dream when the alarm goes off. This time, I want to know how it ends.”

He thought he was still dreaming when he was woken a few hours later. The body that had slid into his bed was pressing up close to him, its hand moving slowly over his naked chest. “Kathryn?” he breathed.

“I’ve had the same dream, Chakotay,” she whispered into his ear. “After you left I thought about what you said, what I said, and I came to a few conclusions.”

“Oh?” He found that his hand had begun drifting up and down her back, feeling the smoothness of the silk negligee she was wearing. “What conclusions?”

“Who knows how long this journey could take? I don’t want to have to keep just dreaming this dream. I don’t want to wait any longer. Chakotay,” she whispered, kissing his neck. “I love you. Make love to me so I can call out your name as I wanted to be able to do that night.”

“Yes, Kathryn,” he replied.

FINIS