Distant Shores - Marco Palmieri [106]
Two weeks later, Kathryn sat in her quarters in the small hours of the night sipping a cup of oolong tea. Ensign Kim had introduced her to the dark coffee substitute, and she found that from time to time she truly enjoyed the fact that it was just bitter enough to keep her alert without totally overworking her nerves.
She hadn’t exactly been avoiding Chakotay. In fact, they had immediately resumed their normal comfortable working relationship, and managed to survive yet another close brush with death in a tug-of-war with the Borg Queen where Seven of Nine had been the prize. But at no time since their dinner in Venice had they managed to share the same relaxed time off duty that she had come to look forward to at the end of each day. She had found one polite excuse after another to avoid Chakotay’s repeated dinner invitations, even when circumstances hadn’t demanded it. She knew she was being ridiculous, and she wasn’t at all certain whose feelings she was really trying to protect. But the simple fact of the matter was, she missed him, and she was now losing sleep trying to figure out what she was going to do about it.
It was not unexpected that the first thing she felt when Chakotay requested entrance to her quarters a few minutes later, quite calm and poised, was a hint of alarm.
“Good evening, Commander,” she said simply.
“Captain,” he replied evenly.
As casually as she could, she put some distance between them, crossing to look out the long bay of windows with a low shelf beneath it, decorated with several of her mementos from her years in Starfleet.
“I’ve been thinking,” Chakotay said, coming right to the point, “and I’ve come up with a solution to our… problem.”
Oh, no.
“Really, Commander?” she attempted, turning to face him. “What problem is that?”
The table that sat in her personal dining area was empty. Chakotay stepped forward and placed the Bonding Box in the center of it as he said, “I think you should have this back, for now.”
Before she could protest, he continued, “I reviewed the ship’s database, and I think I know exactly where we ran into trouble. Although my tribe has almost never used the Bonding Box to indicate anything other than a desire to enter into an exclusive loving relationship, it turns out you were right.”
“I was?” she asked, her defenses crumbling a bit as she stepped toward the table. “I mean, of course I was.”
Chakotay smiled warmly. Kathryn could see that he had been much more successful than she at putting their situation into some kind of perspective that brought him a measure of peace that was eluding her.
“A number of other tribes have similar traditions but a much greater variety of uses for such a box. And to my surprise, I found that so does mine.” He paused to let his words sink in, noting gratefully that she seemed to be growing more at ease by the minute.
“Where you made your mistake was in the symbols that you used to adorn the edges, particularly in the symbol you chose for love.”
Finally, her curiosity overwhelmed her desire to be right. She crossed to the table and picked up the box, focusing on the symbol that she believed represented love, and for a moment, she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. It didn’t look the same.
Looking at Chakotay skeptically, she went to her desk and pulled up her file on the Bonding Box. She studied the image on the screen and compared it to the box in her hand. There was nothing wrong with her eyes. The series of conjoined circles that had run above the other carvings was now a series of three separate circles. Chakotay had changed the box.
“What is this symbol?” she finally asked.
Chakotay cleared the space between them and gently lifted the box from her hand. Indicating the symbol, he explained, “My people have dozens of different symbols for different kinds of love. The one commonly used on a Bonding Box is that of the three joined