Dedicated to Vee, just 'cause.  ;-)

First Glance, Part 4 - Betrayal of the Heart
by Cheile and Laci Torres


        Kathryn awoke in her cell in the brig.  Rubbing her eyes, she got to 
her feet and went to the edge of the field to look out.  The two 
guards--two?--were at the doors of the dungeon.
        Her stomach twisted in anxiety.  Why were there two of them?  There 
were three less prisoners than there had been in the beginning.  Tom 
Paris was under the sole guard of Torres.  Cavit was dead.  And now 
Daren had Stadi.  Had there been an escape attempt?  An uprising?  Why 
hadn’t she known?
        Before she had time to think about it, the entrance doors opened and 
Chakotay strode in.  The guards greeted him courteously.  He nodded.  
"Drop the force field on Kathryn’s cell."
        The first guard, Scott, motioned to Kathryn.  The second guard turned 
to the control panel behind him and touched a few keys.
        The force field disappeared.  He stepped within the boundary and 
motioned to Scott.  Another flash and the force field was replaced.
        Once the guards had gone around the corner, Chakotay turned to her.  "I 
came to see how you were doing."
        "A little better.  The bruises don’t hurt as much."
        "Let me see them."
        Holding her hair back with one hand, she titled her chin up so he could 
examine the marks Tiernan had left on her neck.  Then she pushed up the 
sleeves of her nightshift, allowing him to see the fading bruises on her 
upper arms.
        "Those are healing all right.  Now let me see the others."
        "Others?"
        "You know very well which ones, Kathryn."
        He couldn’t mean the ones on her chest....  "No."
        "I want to see them."
        "Forget it," Kathryn snapped.
        "Slip your nightshift to your waist.  *Now.*"
        Seeing there was no other alternative, Kathryn reluctantly shrugged her 
arms out of the sleeves and let it fall to waist level.  Her cheeks were 
burning, even as she glared defiantly at Chakotay.
        Chakotay didn’t notice Kathryn’s furious expression.  All he could see 
was her beauty, the soft skin, marred by the bruises.  Rage filled him 
all over again at the memory of Tiernan’s abuse of her.
        Slowly, he reached out a hand, cupping one soft mound.  The 
feather-light touch of his fingertips brushed across the bruise, 
elicting a gasp from her, but whether from pleasure or pain, Chakotay 
wasn’t sure.
        Kathryn was frozen at his touch.  When he ran his hand across her skin, 
she gasped at the tremble that shook her.  Her common sense was 
screaming for her to push him away, but some inner part of her 
desperately longed for him to do more than simply touch her.
        She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.  She couldn’t 
*possibly* want him.  He was *Maquis*, for heaven’s sake.  But he 
attracted her--in more ways than she could count.
        His hand fell away, and she felt suddenly--alone.
        "You can put your nightshift back on," he told her.
        She quickly slipped the straps back up, still trembling, watching him 
pace the cell as if he were the one locked up, instead of her.  Then he 
sighed.
        "There is only one way to protect you," Chakotay said.
        "Oh, really.  And how is that?" Kathryn said sarcastically.
        "You have to move in with me."
        Kathryn stared at the Maquis commander.  "Are you crazy?"
        "No, I’m not.  Like Stadi, you’re a beautiful woman.  Daren has taken 
Stadi into his protection--and I need to do the same with you."
        Knowing she had no say in the matter, Kathryn relented.  Chakotay 
turned his back while she dressed.
        "I’ll have Moira gather your things," Chakotay said as he turned back 
around.  "Is there anyone you wish to see?  Paris?  Stadi?"
        "I’d like to know what happened to Tuvok."
        "Tuvok?  Oh yes, the Vulcan.  Aidan found him sending a secret encoded 
message to his contact with the Federation--which I am assuming was 
you."
        Kathryn nodded.  "What happened to him?"
        "He’s fine, but he’s being held.  I can take you to him."
        "Please," she said.
        "All right.  Scott, drop the force field and call for Moira.  Have her 
deliver Kathryn’s belongings to my quarters."
        Scott nodded.  "Yes, Commander."
        Chakotay led her through a maze of passageways until they reached 
another section of the brig.  And there, in another cell, sitting 
serenely, eyes closed and concentrating, was Tuvok.
        "Tuvok," Kathryn exclaimed.  She was relieved to see that he was all 
right.
        Tuvok’s eyes opened at the sound of his name.  "Captain," he said 
simply, rising to his feet.  He came to the edge of the forcefield.
        "Are you all right?" she asked.
        "I am well."
        "They didn’t torture you?"
        "No," Tuvok answered.  "When I was caught, I was questioned, then put 
down here.  And here I have been."  His eyes searched her face, then he 
turned to Chakotay.  "I was told you would not harm her.  It does not 
appear to be the case."
        "I’m not responsible for those bruises on her face," Chakotay answered.  
"I have kept my word."
        Tuvok’s gaze bore into Chakotay’s for a few minutes before he spoke 
again.  "You speak the truth."
        "I intend to protect her.  You have my word on that."
        Tuvok nodded.
        "Come, Kathryn."  Taking her by the arm, Chakotay led her away.

*

        Tom was a little dazed, considering he’d banged his head against the 
wall.  But then what would it matter?  He was already bruised from when 
the Klingon girl--B’Elanna--had punched him who knew how many times.
        "Computer, lights on," ordered the ever-familiar voice.
        The lights came on, revealing Torres.
        Tom grinned.  "Well, my Klingon princess has come back to take out her 
frustrations on the defenseless Starfleet defect."
        "You’re anything but defenseless, Paris," she snorted.  Coming over to 
him, she unlocked the wrist bands.  "You can have the run of the room.  
There’s no weapons besides this," she added, indicating the dagger 
strapped to her waist.  "And I can have this through your throat the 
second you try and grab me from behind."
        "Chakotay said you weren’t allowed to kill me."
        "I can if I’m defending myself," she said haughtily.
        "I promise."
        "Good."
        Tom rubbed his wrists, trying to get the circulation back into them.  
While he did this, he spent time studying Torres--B’Elanna, he 
corrected himself--as she paced here and there throughout the room.
        Her hair was short, softly brushed so that it framed her face.  Her 
dark eyes were expressive, showing a thousand different emotions.  Her 
brow ridges were the distinguishing feature of her heritage, yet they 
weren’t as pronounced as most Klingons’ were.
        "You’re not full blood, are you?" he asked.
        She spun to face him.  "What business is it of yours?"
        "I just noticed that yours--" he nodded, indicating her brow ridges, 
"--aren’t as pronounced as most."
        B’Elanna gave a little toss of her hair.  "So I’m half-Klingon.  What 
about it?"
        "Nothing.  It just makes you unique."
        She shot him a glare that could have frozen a volcano.  "Are you trying 
to flirt with me, Paris?"
        "I might be," he said glibly.
        She sighed.  "Well, sit down.  I might as well tell you my whole 
story."
        Tom sat beside her, as she began.

**

        Kathryn was nervous about the night.  As she dressed for bed and 
brushed her hair, her hands trembled.  She had to sleep in Chakotay’s 
bed--because if Tiernan looked in the night and saw her on the couch, 
he would consider her fair game and drag her off.  He had done that to 
Stadi earlier.
        The door opened.  There stood Chakotay.
        Kathryn dropped the silver brush with a clatter.
        "Well, hello to you, too."  The door closed behind him.
        She retrieved the brush as he changed for bed.  When she turned again, 
he was wearing nothing but a pair of trousers, cut at the knees.  She 
jerked her gaze away from the sight of his bare chest.
        Chakotay turned down the bed and crawled between the sheets, punching 
at his pillow until he had it perfectly situated.  Then he flopped back 
with a sigh.
        "Kathryn, in bed.  Now."
        Seeing no choice but to obey him, Kathryn set down the brush and slid 
under the covers, being careful to keep her distance from Chakotay.  
After all, they were just pretending.
        "Computer, lights off," Chakotay ordered.
        The lights turned off.
        Kathryn crunched herself as far as she could on her side, certain she 
would never get any sleep with him so close by.  Eventually, exhaustion 
took over.  Just as she was about to drift off, a strong arm reached 
around her waist.  She was pulled back from behind, and in seconds, her 
back was pressed up against Chakotay’s muscular chest.
        "What are you doing?" she demanded in a whisper.
        "Making it look real," he whispered back.
        As he said this, his hands drifted from her waist to caress her 
breasts.  She tried to shrug his touch off, but he was persistent, 
circling his thumbs around the tips, sending showers of sparks through 
her from head to toe.  Helpless to his touch, she allowed him to 
continue, murmuring a sigh.
        His hands fell away.  She felt bereft, as if something were missing.
        She rolled over to face him.  "Chakotay...."

To be continued....


Legal B.S.  Paramount’s main characters, my castle and minor characters 
and story.  Thanks to Laci for her help.  Copyright 1997, by Cheile.  
Comments - cheile@hotmail.com and lacileigh@geocities.com