Kathryn knew the moment she succumbed to the alien, and yet she was helpless to prevent it. The illusion of Mark standing beside her, looking hurt and betrayed, was far too real to be ignored. It seemed desperately important to prove to him that he was wrong, that there was no one else in her thoughts or heart. "I haven’t been unfaithful to you," she said, and gave herself over to the moment, taking him in her arms and kissing him.

It was so wonderfully familiar – the warmth of his arms around her, the slight scratchiness of his favorite sweater, his own unique scent of soap and peppermint – so wonderfully familiar that she did not immediately notice the difference. After a few seconds, though, he let her go and stepped back, his face sorrowful.

That’s when it hit her. It wasn’t there. The passion, the chemistry, the zing - whatever it was called, it wasn’t there. The kiss was sweet enough but created no connection between them, no longing for more. She might have well been kissing an old friend.

And that, she realized with a jolt, was exactly what she had been doing. She and Mark had known each other for more than 30 years, and it had taken a long time for their friendship to kindle into something more. Now, it seemed, the fire was gone and they were simply friends again. "Mark," she began, but then gasped in alarm as a hand covered her shoulder from behind.

She turned, and saw that Chakotay stood beside her, looking concerned. "Captain," he said, "are you all right?"

Kathryn caught her breath. She had completely forgotten he was there, although he had been locked in his own illusion when she entered the turbolift. Glancing back, she saw that Mark had vanished. "Yes," she said, "I am now." With a conscious effort she forced tensed and stiff muscles to relax. Then she looked at him curiously. "How did you come out of it on your own?"

His face didn’t change, but his eyes were unhappy. "I was re-hashing an old argument with my father. It got to the point where I walked out the first time, and suddenly it was over."

Knowing that his father had died before they reconciled their differences, this must have hurt him deeply. She laid a hand on his arm. "I’m sorry," she said. He nodded his acknowledgement, and then she straightened. "Engineering," she snapped to the ‘lift, then turned back to him. "We need to defeat that psionic beam. Janeway to Torres." There was no response, and they looked at one another uneasily. "Janeway to anyone on board," she tried again.

After a few seconds of silence, he said, "Maybe the comm system’s down."

"Let’s hope." If the rest of the crew was locked in their own private hell – or heaven, if she interpreted Tuvok’s last few words correctly – this was going to be very difficult.

The left the ‘lift at deck 11, but after only a few steps she stopped abruptly. "Listen."

He stopped, then nodded. "The warp engines are offline."

They increased their pace to a jog, then a run into Main Engineering. What they saw caused them to stop, then walk slowly toward the central column.

The warp core wasn’t there.

Neither was anyone else.

"Computer," Janeway said, her voice echoing in the oddly silent space, "when was the warp core ejected?"

"The warp core was ejected at 2253 hours, on Stardate 48573.12."

Her eyes widened. "What time is it now?"

"It is 0315 hours, Stardate 48573.13."

"Eight hours," Chakotay said softly. "We were in the turbolift for nearly 8 hours."

Fighting off the wave of cold that was threatening to engulf her, Janeway said, "Computer, besides Commander Chakotay and myself, who else is on board?"

"There are no other life forms currently on board."

For a moment she thought her knees might buckle, but that doesn’t happen to captains so she didn’t let it happen to her. "Do you know where the crew is now?"

"Specify ‘crew’."

"Lt. Torres," Chakotay said impatiently. "Lt. Tuvok."

"Negative."

"Any member of the crew," Janeway snapped. "Including Kes and Neelix."

"Negative."

In frustration, Janeway turned to the main control panel for engineering. One field caught her eye. "Chakotay, look at this." She pointed to the map that appeared on the screen.

He stood beside her and looked. "We’re past Bothan space," he said slowly, as if he didn’t quite believe his eyes. "But how-"

"I don’t know, but I intend to find out." She strode over to one of the wall panels and punched up bridge records. "Computer, who authorized ejection of the warp core?"

"Ejection was authorized by acting captain Lt. Tuvok."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Acting captain Tuvok? How did that happen?"

"Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay were declared medically incapacitated by the Chief Medical Officer at 2252 hours, Stardate 48573.12. Lt. Tuvok acceded to command."

With a flash of cold anger, she hit her commbadge. "Janeway to EMH."

There was no response. Chakotay checked another panel. "According to this, the comm system is working."

"Come on," she said. "We’re going to Sickbay."

The corridors were eerily still, and Kathryn had to consciously tamp down the sick, fearful feeling that was rising within her. They walked in silence, neither of them in the mood for small talk, and neither of them having anything constructive to offer. Sickbay was as empty as the rest of the ship.

"Activate EMH," Kathryn said as soon as the doors opened.

"Unable to comply," the computer said. "The EMH program has been deleted."

Making a sound that as almost a snarl, she turned to the main Sickbay computer terminal. After a moment she looked up, trying to hide the frustration and despair she felt. "It’s true. The EMH program is gone. It’s like it was never there."

He drew in a slow breath. "What could have happened?"

"I don’t know," she said, "but we’re going back to Bothan space to find out."

"It will take us weeks on impulse engines."

She cocked her head. "You have anything better to do, Commander?"

That made him smile broadly, much more than the comment warranted. "Not a thing, Captain, not a thing."

They went back to the bridge, set course for Bothan space and transferred as many stations as possible to Navigation and the command chairs. Then a tummy rumble loud enough to be heard across the bridge – although neither admitted to it - reminded them both that they hadn’t eaten for nearly 20 hours, and they went to the mess hall.

Like the rest of the ship, the room was silent and empty. The Captain looked about, and couldn’t suppress a shiver at the wrongness of the place. In this place, at this time of day, there should have been light and noise, and above all, the smells and odors and aromas of Neelix’s culinary efforts. Instead it was sterile, even a little musty.

Chakotay sensed it as well, and let out a puff of air. "It’s funny, isn’t it? Before Voyager, I never served on a ship with a cook. Now it seems all wrong without one."

She nodded in agreement, then looked at him speculatively. "Do you cook, Commander?"

He smiled. "I suppose it’s a matter of opinion. My mother.." He stopped talking abruptly, and looked at something past her left shoulder. His smile faded. "I never meant…You never understood…" Then he stopped talking altogether, and stood staring.

For a moment she was confused, but then she understood. They were returning to Bothan space, and the alien influence was affecting them again. He was lost in some private hallucination. He had to snap out of it, she couldn’t do this alone. "Chakotay! Chakotay, wake up!"

He stood, unmoved.

How had he forced her attention in the turbolift? When she had regained her senses, he had been touching her. Was touch the answer? She laid a hand on his arm. "Chakotay."

At first there was no response, but then he blinked. His eyes slowly came back into focus. They were filled with unshed tears. "Oh, gods," he whispered. "How long?"

"Just a few seconds."

"It felt longer." He drew a slow breath, ran a hand through his hair. "That’s tiring."

She considered for a moment. After her encounter with Mark in the turbolift, she had felt drained. "Each time seems to take a little more out of us."

He surprised her then by reaching out and taking her left hand. "Touching seems to be the key," he said. "I don’t know why, but a physical connection seems to be enough to disrupt the psionic beam."

"Bodies do generate a slight bio-electric field. Perhaps the combination of two fields generates enough energy to create a shield of sorts." Her eyes lit up. "Come on, let’s get to the Medical Lab. We might be able to create an artificial shield."

Holding hands, they left the mess hall and went back to the turbolift. As they waited for the door to open, she said, "I have to admit, I’m a little leery of taking the ‘lift."

"I know what you mean. We’ve both been vulnerable there. But I can’t think of a way to maintain physical contact in the Jeffries tubes."

She looked down at their hands. His was so much bigger than hers, and darker. She had never really noticed that before. "Uh, no. There isn’t any way. We’ll manage."

The doors opened, and they entered. They rode to deck 5 in silence and, to her relief, without incident. As soon as they were in the Lab, though, she realized they faced a dilemma. "I need you to stand near the biospectrometer while I check the readings," she told him. "We’ll have to separate."

He nodded. "All right. But let’s try to say something if we start seeing things." He let go of her hand and moved to the spot she indicated.

She activated the control console and studied the readings. After storing them, she looked up. "You ok?" When he nodded, she said, "Then we need to trade places so you can measure my readings. Ever done this before?"

"No, I managed to avoid most of the medical sciences." He stood beside her, looking at the controls. His shoulder touched hers as she showed him how to operate the equipment. "Got it. Let’s take a look at you, Captain."

She stood on the sensor on the deck and squared her shoulders.

"You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?"

Mark was standing to her right, his arms folded. He did not look angry or sad, just bemused.

She closed her eyes tightly, and tried to signal her companion. "Chakotay."

"You’re enjoying being with him. Touching him. You’ve been looking for excuses to touch him."

"Chakotay."

Then she felt a mild shock and opened her eyes. Chakotay stood in front of her, gripping her upper arms tightly. "Are you all right?" he asked. "I had to shake you this time."

Her breath was ragged, she realized, and she felt a constriction in her chest. "I’m all right. Did you get the readings?"

"Yes. But I don’t think we should break contact again unless it’s necessary."

"Agreed." She clasped his hand tightly and they went back to the control panel. ‘

"Look there," she said, pointing with her free hand to a fluctuation in the record, "that is when the beam got me. There is a pronounced dampening in my bio-electric field."

"And here is where I touched you again." He indicated a sharp rise in the graph. "And here is where you were free. Can we create a shield that creates that much energy?"

"For us, and then for the ship." She nodded. "Let’s get to work."

Over the course of the next hour, Janeway and Chakotay had to get creative about maintaining physical contact while working. It generally meant that only one of them could work on a task at a time. When she needed both hands to enter calculations into a padd, he stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders. They reversed that when he sat at a work bench to install microscopic components. In between they had to retrieve the components from the Lab’s storage areas, some of which were beyond Kathryn’s reach. Chakotay kept his hands on her waist as she balanced on a chair to reach above her head. They sat back to back on the deck as they each fine-tuned their own shield.

Finally she looked up. "I’m ready."

"Me, too."

Without breaking contact, they each attached the tiny device to a spot just below the left ear and activated it. Kathryn shivered; it felt as if she had goosebumps on every centimeter of her skin. "Well. That’s different."

He looked at her questioningly. "Ready to try?"

She nodded. Raising their joined hands to chest level, she took a deep breath and let go.

Nothing happened.

A minute passed, and they were still looking at each other. She smiled. "It’s working."

"No more touching," Mark said. "What a disappointment."

Her stomach sank as she turned and faced him. "You are not here," she said firmly. "You can’t be."

"I’m always with you, Kathryn, don’t you know that? Even though you’re through with me."

"Don’t say that."

"It’s the truth, isn’t it? It’s over between us. You just don’t want to admit it. He’s more your type, anyway. A little dangerous, a little mysterious – like Justin. You’ve always been attracted to that, haven’t you?"

"I am not going to listen to this any more," she said. "You aren’t real. Go away."

To her complete astonishment, he did. He vanished without a shimmer or a flash.

Her shoulders sagged with relief. These encounters were increasingly draining, both emotionally and physically. Then she saw that Chakotay was standing transfixed, despite the fact that his shield was functioning.

She took his arms. "Chakotay, wake up. Wake up." There was no response, and she remembered he had needed to shake her last time. Gripping him tightly, she tried a gentle shake with no result. Increasing force didn’t help either. Perhaps, she thought, skin-to-skin contact was needed, and she reached up and took his face in her hands. "Chakotay."

He blinked, then caught his breath and focused on her. "Damn," he said softly.

She let go of his face, but quickly grabbed one of his hands. "I don’t understand. This should have worked."

His face was drawn, almost gray, and he suddenly looked exhausted. He sounded exhausted, as well. "We can’t keep this up much longer."

It had been nearly thirty hours since either of them had slept, she realized. The side trips into Bothan hallucinations did not count; they were anything but restful. "We need to get some sleep."

"I know, but how? If we sleep…" he let the thought trail off. If they slept, they would be vulnerable to the psionic beam.

"We have to maintain as much physical contact as possible," she said briskly. It was important to keep this on a clinical footing. "Don’t misunderstand me, Commander, but I think we need to sleep together."

"I’m too tired to make a joke about it. Your quarters or mine?"

"Mine are closer."

He was not exaggerating how tired he felt. She was fatigued, but he was apparently near the point of complete collapse. In the turbolift, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

"Hey." She laid her free hand on his chest. "Stay with me a little bit longer."

"Sorry. Can’t keep my eyes open."

"I know. Just a little while longer." When the doors opened, she draped one of his arms around her shoulder and supported him as they walked. Inside her quarters, she took him directly into her bedroom and sat him down, still holding one hand. "Okay. We’re going to need to keep as much contact as we can while we sleep, and I think it needs to be direct contact. You need to take off your uniform."

Tired as he was, he looked startled at that. "Do you think…that’s wise?"

"It’s necessary," she said shortly. "We’re both professionals, Commander. We’ll do what has to be done to deal with conditions."

He nodded, and reached down to remove his boots. Then he looked at her. He was going to need both hands. She considered for a moment, then climbed on the bed and knelt behind him. With her left hand still holding his, she slid her right hand under his uniform. His skin was warm to the touch.

Then she let go of his hand and placed her left hand on the other side. She leaned forward with him and he bent to remove his boots, adjusted her position as he pulled off his trousers. It was impossible to ignore the solid abdominal muscles that shifted with each movement. My god, he’s in good shape, she thought.

Sitting again, he took off his uniform jacket and then pulled the turtleneck over his head. There were several scars on his back, mostly small but one was long and white. She had seen scars like that once before, and knew the source. "You have scars from the Cardassians."

"We didn’t have many doctors in the Maquis. How did you know?"

"I … knew someone once, with similar scars. The Cardassians held him prisoner for a month." She had to fight the urge to touch him, to see if the tissue was as smooth as Justin’s had been.

"Your turn," he said.

The logistics of this were going to be awkward, she realized. She slid her hands around him as she climbed off the bed. He stood as she hit the floor, and for a moment they stood, facing each other. He’s gorgeous, she thought, and realized that she had been looking at him just a little too long. She stood still as he carefully reached under her jacket and pulled the turtleneck free of the waistband, and placed his hands above her hips.

Suddenly she found it hard to breathe.

Releasing him, she turned slowly so that she wouldn’t have to look at him as she undressed. His hands never left her skin, trailing across her stomach and back as she turned. Stop acting like a nervous teenager, Kathryn. Standing, she removed her jacket and turtleneck, leaving her tank top in place. Then she eased her pants down to her knees. "I need to sit down now."

"Wait a second." She could feel him shifting behind her, and his hands slid up to her shoulders. then he said, "Move back now."

She inched her way backwards, feeling him moving backwards as well. When she hit the edge of the bed, she sat and removed her boots and pants. Left in her underwear, knowing that he was wearing only shorts, she decided not to try to turn around. "I think it would be best if I lay on my side and you fit in behind me as tightly as possible. That way we should be able to keep some point of contact even when we’re both asleep."

"All right."

Kathryn lay down, back to him, and curled slightly. As soon as she was settled, she felt him spoon around her, his chest pressed against her back and his shins against her calves. His left arm draped around her waist. She swallowed. It had been a very long time since she had slept so close to anyone. "Get some sleep," she said. Her voice sounded thick to her own ears.

"Yes, ma’am," he mumbled. In barely seconds, he was breathing evenly and deeply, and she knew he was asleep.

She closed her eyes, and tried to ignore the fact that her heart was pounding. She took several deep, slow breaths to calm herself, and then tried to match his breathing.

"Can’t sleep? Poor baby." She opened her eyes and saw Mark standing less than two meters away, and he looked angry. "And you claim you haven’t been unfaithful."

"No." She spoke decisively, strongly. "No, I have not."

He smiled then, a smile as sad as his eyes. "Not in body, perhaps. But in your mind. In your heart. Can you deny that?"

Hot tears stung her eyes, and she drew a sharp breath. "My god, Mark, I’m not a saint. It’s been over a year. Haven’t you looked at someone else?"

"Have you?"

"It shouldn’t matter. Thoughts don’t count. It’s what we do with the thoughts that matter."

"So you have betrayed me in your heart."

Suddenly she was angry. "What if I have? So what? How many times have we argued about this, Mark? It’s what we do that counts, not what we think. How many of our heroes would be condemned as cowards if we knew their thoughts? It’s our control over our thoughts that makes a difference."

"You sound like a Vulcan." His mouth curled into a sneer. "We are our thoughts. Our actions only conceal our true selves. In the end our thoughts define us, as yours define you now."

"No," she shouted at him, so furious that her arms reached out to strike him. "No!"

"Kathryn!"

It was a different voice, a different sound. It took a moment to refocus, to realize that Mark wasn’t there any more. Chakotay was straddling her, holding her by the wrists. Her face was cold and wet, and her body drenched with sweat. "Oh," she whispered, shamed by the memory of the illusion, shamed by her own emotions. "Oh, no."

His eyes were dark with concern as he pulled her into a sitting position. "Are you all right? You …you cried out."

"It was Mark." She felt humiliated by the need to tell him. But she did need to tell him, to talk about it. "He said I had been unfaithful to him."

"That’s ridiculous." He still held her by the wrists, and he was very close to her. Close enough that she could smell his scent, feel the warmth of his breath.

"Not physically. In my mind, my heart." She looked at him, then averted her glance. It was too dangerous to look at him. Too much proof of Mark’s accusations.

Everything seemed to go still. It was as if they had both stopped breathing. The he put his right hand under her chin and turned her face so that she had no choice but to look into his eyes. Eyes that were large and fixed on her with what looked like both hope and fear.

"Was he right?"

A simple question, simply asked, and it battered her defenses. She opened her mouth to deny it, but when she saw the hope in his eyes the words stuck in her throat.

He waited, but when she said nothing, he raised his right hand to her face while holding both her wrists in his left. His fingers covered her cheek, his thumb began to trace her lips. "Was he right?" he asked softly.

She closed her eyes, unable to speak, unable to move. Her heart was starting to pound again. She felt him reach behind her, remove the last couple of pins and free her hair until it was loose around her shoulders. Then he brushed the long, heavy strands away from her and leaned so close that his mouth was nearly touching her ear. His breath was warm. "Was he right?" he whispered.

There was no more resistance left in her. "Yes," she whispered, and he lifted his head to look at her. She saw desire in his eyes, and something else. Happiness.

Her arms wound around him, holding him close as she kissed him. As they fell back onto the pillows, the last coherent thought she had was, Why did I wait so long?

The abrupt change in temperature was like a blast of winter wind. Suddenly, she was standing, arms at her sides, muscles stiff from hours without movement. Her eyes jerked open. She was in the turbolift, standing next to Chakotay. Before the reality of that was fully processed, she stepped back and moved to one side. Oh my god. What happened? How much of that was real?

He looked as confused as she felt. His eyes were dazed and slightly out of focus. Then he saw her, and his expression became neutral, guarded. "Captain. What happened?"

"I’m not sure. I think…I think the psionic beam has been stopped." She bit her lip. Should I ask him? How could I? ‘I beg your pardon, were we just making love or was it all in my mind?’

"Kes to Janeway."

The call spared her the need for further speculation. "Kes, what happened?"

"I’ve …won. The Bothan is gone. Can you come to Engineering?"

"We’re on our way." She glanced at Chakotay from the corner of her eye, unwilling to face him directly. Was it her imagination, or was he looking at her with the same doubt that she felt?

"It was all an illusion," he said.  Nothing more.

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