Time: The third year in the Delta Quadrant--about 2 months after Basics.

Janeway looked at the last of the monthly reports and sighed. In two weeks she would start reading this month's. Soon after reclaiming the ship from the Kazon, she had decided to weed out those reports that she didn't need to read--she had eliminated almost half. But, she still read them.

The last report, wasn't one. She had forgotten that Tom had handed her a request that morning. The Voyager Repertory Company wanted permission to convert Shuttle Bay 2 to a permanent theater. She would give them permission. She'd tell Tom at dinner.

She looked at the chronometer. No wonder she was hungry, her shift had ended an hour ago. She stretched as she stood. She would have to eat Neelix's food tonight. They had recently had to cut replicator rations again. And unless they could find a way to increase energy reserves or find a source of omicron particles to keep the replicators running, they would be cutting back even more.

Neelix's dining hall had become the social center of the ship. Unfortunately, it was also the source of many of the stomachaches and complaints. She groaned inwardly as she left her ready room. She had, so far, not asked the Doc to order Neelix to stop using Leola roots for medical reasons--but if they were going to be regularly dining on his cuisine, the tubers would have to go.

Chakotay joined B'Elanna and Tom for dinner. Neither were looking very enthusiastic about the dinner before them.

"Commander, any chance of a thick steak medium rare, cherry pie, a fine burgundy wine?" Tom poked at the purple runny stuff in his bowl.

"I wouldn't know Tom, ask B'Elanna. What is that?" He had selected the stringy yellow stuff.

"If I knew, I wouldn't be any happier." Tom continued to eat it, very carefully. "I came from a household where we had to eat everything we were served. Or no dessert."

"You mean there's dessert?" Many of Neelix's desserts were very good--it was the main courses he had problems with.

"Leola root pie," B'Elanna said. "It seems no one is eating it. Commander, do you think you can intercept Neelix from complaining to the Captain? The last time..." The last time he had complained, seven of the crew had found themselves helping in the kitchen.

"The last time Tom talked too loud. Keep your comments about the food in private. I might have recommended you do the cooking."

Tom grinned. "I make a mean cinnamon toast. Commander, maybe you should complain--I hear you're a pretty good cook."

"I don't think I could... Good evening Neelix."

"Commander, enjoying my Takelian bean soufflé? Good. Pureeing the beans is the tricky part, and I think I did it perfectly tonight. Tom would you like some Leola root pie?"

"No thank-you Neelix, I'm trying to, uhh, maintain my weight. Oh, look at the time. I have to be at rehearsal in six minutes. Commander, B'Elanna, Neelix." Tom grabbed his tray, dumped it in the waste receptacle and left. Neelix went to the next table and enthusiastically continued talking about the wonders of Leola root.

"How are the modifications to replicators coming?" Chakotay asked between bites.

"Lousy, the most recent idea won't work either. I left a report with the Captain earlier. Commander I've got to get back to engineering. See you at the staff meeting tomorrow."

"Good night B'Elanna." He poked furiously at the food.

The Captain was doing it again. He wondered exactly when B'Elanna had left the report--he hadn't seen it yet. They were going to have to talk, he had just been waiting for the right moment.

When they had first returned to the ship--after their 4-month stay on New Earth--they had managed to keep their relationship strictly professional. They had spent those first two weeks catching up on four months of reports and relearning the command routine--there had been no time for anything else. Then the Kazon fiasco--and again they had been too busy to think of anything but surviving, getting Voyager back and then cleaning the ship. Damn, but the Kazon had been messy--and unsanitary.

It all started to go awry a month ago. Voyager wasn't constantly being pursued, the incidents few and far between. They had free moments, time to think and wonder. And it was obvious, to Chakotay anyway, that Kathryn had been thinking. She had started avoiding him, and he felt that she was leaving him out of the command structure.

He watched the Captain enter the dining hall. She would probably do what she had been doing the past month, serve herself and retreat to her quarters. He smiled as he finished his questionable dinner. He couldn't stay angry at her for long.

The following afternoon, Captain Janeway sat in her ready room. For several months she had been thinking hard about Voyager and the Delta-Quadrant. Even before their stay on New Earth and the Kazon capturing Voyager, she had been searching for answers to a question-that-really-didn't-exist. She consulted with the computer, studied Starfleet regulations and Federation law. Two weeks ago she had asked Tuvok for his opinion. She appreciated his logical, dispassionate appraisal and had talked with him many times since then. They had been in the Delta-Quadrant for over two years and had one goal, to get home. In the process, they were missing an unequaled opportunity to explore.

She stood and entered the bridge. "Lieutenant Tuvok, open a comm-channel to the entire ship."

Commander Chakotay looked at her, he'd known she'd been working on something. He controlled his irritation, keeping his face neutral as he watched her.

She moved to stand in front of the navigation console. "This is Captain Kathryn Janeway. Our recent experiences with the Kazon and Vidiians have made me realize some very important things regarding this crew. This ship. We were surprised by an adversary of truly unknown origin. We will undoubtedly encounter others. These encounters will be on our terms."

She paused to look at the bridge crew. "I want to go home as much as any of you--but the truth is that just heading for home is not enough. We shall not cease in our efforts to pursue all opportunities to return to Federation space, but..." She walked to stand behind her chair. "...We are Starfleet officers aboard a Starfleet ship, and if we cannot contribute to the Federation and our families with our presence: then the very least we can do is to contribute with our absence. We shall gather information on every planet, every nebula, and every anomaly we encounter. We shall seek out new life forms."

Her voice softened, "Yes, there will be risks. Yes, there will be tough choices. But--this I promise--when the USS Voyager finally docks in a Federation port after completing our epic journey, we shall be able to offer an unequaled gift of information and exploration. We may not have come here of our own free will, but we shall take advantage of our unique opportunity to boldly go where no one has gone before."

She signaled Tuvok to end communication. "Mr. Tuvok in my ready-room. Commander you have the bridge."

Chakotay stared after her for two seconds. A shadow of annoyance showed in his eyes as he looked down at his console. He looked at his console, he'd been waiting for the right moment to confront her about his place in the command structure. She'd cut him out before--he hadn't been happy then either. This was not working. Either he was the second-in-command of this ship: a part of the command and decision making process or he wasn't. And recently he'd felt Tuvok had taken his place. He started to enter a message into the computer.

Tuvok looked at the Captain as she went over the security report he'd written. "Captain, Commander Chakotay should be involved in this."

"He's in command of the bridge." A weak excuse, and she knew it.

"Mr. Paris is capable of handling that, Captain." Tuvok raised an eyebrow in puzzlement. She ignored him.

For two years he had watched the Captain and Commander's innocent flirtations become more. So had most of the crew. The Captain was very stubborn, but then so was the Commander. He was just not as obvious about it. He was able to back down and still get his way.

Tuvok had known Captain Janeway too long. He knew better than try to debate with her, especially when her mind was set. And she seemed to feel (humans were sometimes very illogical) that it was best to avoid the Commander. Tuvok would bring it up later, it was a problem that would affect the smooth operation of the ship.

Her terminal beeped, there was an incoming message. She looked at Tuvok in surprise, then entered the commands so she could read it. She quickly perused it and stepped away, her face was angry. Tuvok glanced quickly at the message: he'd been expecting this.

Chakotay had looked at Paris quietly. "Lieutenant, I have some errands to take care of. You have the bridge." As he stood, he'd sent the message he had just written. Then left. This was a debate best held in private--away from the prying eyes and ears of the bridge crew.

"Yes sir." Tom watched him. The Commander was doing a pretty good job hiding his anger, but Tom had spent too many hours observing his commanding officers, he could see the frustration and annoyance in the Commander's face and hear it in his voice. Tom watched the Commander leave, and raised his eyebrow in poor imitation of their Chief of Security. Now if he could be a fly on the wall of whereever the upcoming argument was going to be. He saw Harry shake his head and turn to look at some unimportant data on the computer screen behind him.

His doorchime rang. A good guess on how long it would take her, Chakotay thought. He was prepared for the conflict that lay ahead--he had the tactical advantage, he had picked the moment and the location. "Enter."

Captain Janeway did not look pleased, "What the hell is this about, Commander?" She asked, fixing him with a steely glare.

He responded quietly, "Exactly what I wrote in my note. 'Captain, I hearby request a leave-of-absence until such time that you decide to let me again be an active member of Voyager's command structure.' You're leaving me out of the command process, again. You've changed Voyager's mission without my input or even the common courtesy of letting me know in advance. And for the past month you've avoided talking to me or asking my opinion. Why the hell am I your First Officer? Tuvok seems to be doing a more than adequate job."

She didn't respond for a moment. When she did, she too was speaking quietly, "Are you resigning?" She was furious: she was not used to this kind of treatment.

"Am I? Or do you want me to?"

"No." She turned away. "But, I don't have to justify my decisions to you, Commander."

"No Captain, you don't. But it would be nice if I knew what they were in advance--even if it was, say, only twenty-five percent of the time." His tone was very sarcastic.

She stiffened. "Commander, you're out of line."

He stood there, this was getting them no where. She wasn't going to back down now. Damn, he knew better than to get sarcastic. "Captain, I'm requesting a short leave-of-absence."

"Granted, effective immediately." Without looking at him, she moved to leave. She reached the door and stopped--if she left now would Voyager's command structure survive? She counted to ten, then thirty, then turned around to face him. "I suppose we should try to discuss this rationally." Her voice was cold, but the fury was gone. "For the sake of the ship," she added.

"Do you trust me?"

She looked at him, why would he ask that?

He continued. "You've left me out of the decision making process, I don't know how many times." He sounded tired. "I thought we were past Maquis/Starfleet issues. Or is there another reason?"

She had no answer, so he continued. "Damn it, Kathryn," he caught her wince at her name. "We've been through so much. Why is protocol so bloody important out here in the middle of no where?"

"Protocol is what keeps this ship running."

"Is it? Look again--it's the people. Their loyalty to this ship, to you. That's what keeps them going, not protocol. This is the best crew I've ever worked with. And one of the finest Captains." He grinned slightly. "But she can be so damn stubborn at times."

She almost smiled, but added quietly. "Tuvok agrees with you. He won't say so though--at least not as forcefully." Her anger spent, she felt tired, and slightly embarrassed. He was right, she had cut him out of the command process--and they both knew why. "Commander... Chakotay." She paused. "I am stubborn. But, I also know when to admit I've been wrong. I just don't know..." She flushed, the problem wasn't in the command structure--she could control that.

During the silence that followed, she looked around the room, anywhere but at him--she had only visited his quarters a couple of times and not recently. He had collected small items from most of their stops--she blushed at the sight of a polished piece of wood. She wondered if it came from her bathtub. She continued looking around. She wasn't sure how to continue.

"I didn't know you played." She pointed to the guitar standing in the corner. A safe topic, or so she thought.

"I used to. I started practicing again a few months ago."

"Any good?"

He laughed. "Once. I can remember how, it's the lack of practice."

"Why did you start playing again?"

"I rather figured I might eventually..."

"Well the crew might appreciate the entertainment. Harry is developing a small ensemble."

"Actually I was thinking of a smaller audience: of one."

This really caused her to flush. "Are you planning on sitting outside the door and playing? What if she would rather no one knew?" The conversation was now skirting a topic both knew needed to be discussed.

There were ways around the door, but now was probably not a good time to mention command-codes, he thought.

She looked up at her First Officer. "Commander, see you on the bridge tomorrow?" She asked tentatively. He nodded. She then added quickly, almost without thinking, "I would like to hear you play... Maybe... Someday."

He almost reached out to take her hand. "Sure, Kathryn. Captain." He paused and looked at her. "Voyager's mission--I agree with you." He smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow. On the bridge." She left quietly, the anger that had brought her here dissipated, replaced by the familiar yearning she was trying to learn to ignore.

It might be a little late, he answered to himself the question she had started to ask. He was positive Tom knew, as did Kes. And he wondered about Tuvok.

They had been avoiding talking about their relationship, since their return from New Earth. He'd wanted to avoid it, because if she ever defined parameters they would become law. Inviolate. Unchangeable.

"Good morning, Captain," Tom said as she took her seat. He glanced at her quickly and turned back toward his console. She seemed to be in a better mood than she had been yesterday afternoon. He wondered if they had kissed and made-up. Well, at least made-up.

"Lieutenant. Report." And stop speculating, she added silently.

"Captain, all systems nominal. Lieutenant Tuvok is conducting security training for his teams."

"Very good. You have the bridge. Please ask Commander Chakotay to join me in my ready room when he arrives."

"Yes ma'm."

She sat down in her chair, then stood. What she needed was a cup of coffee--Neelix's ersatz version left a lot to be desired. She moved to her window and watched the streaks of light pass.

At the sound of the chimes she returned to her seat. "Enter. Commander."

"Captain." There was a moment of awkwardness.

"Have a seat Commander, I'd offer you a cup of coffee, but..." She spoke with forced lightness.

"You wished to see me?" Let's get through this quickly, he thought. He was uncomfortable too.

"Yes, you're closer to the crew, how are they responding to my message?"

"From the few I've talked to, they seem to be taking to it well. Most are even are looking forward to the adventure."

She hesitated, "And the..."

"The Maquis?" She nodded, and he continued, "I could have told you what the response would be--but you never asked." He stopped to prevent his anger from seeping in and to watch her react. "They want to go home. But, despite not being Starfleet, they would follow you into hell."

She looked at him. That was not what she had expected. Her eyes indicated she wanted an explanation.

He didn't answer right away, he knew the reason, but it was a part of her past they had never talked about. He took a breath. "We all have a history with the Cardassians. We've seen friends and family captured, tortured, and even killed. Some are even survivors of Cardassian prisons..."

Janeway stood and turned away. A part of her life she would rather forget had connected her to the part of her crew she had originally been sent to capture.

He watched her, curious at how they had reacted to somewhat similar situations so differently. "Captain?"

She turned to face him.

"Are you OK?"

"It was a long time ago--in another part of the galaxy." She looked at him. "One can never completely escape one's past."

He returned her gaze, "No. But then one doesn't always want to..."

"Chakotay..." She wanted to talk about them, but in the end she simply turned away. "Commander, thank-you for the information. Unless there is something else, you're dismissed."