Resolutions

I guess the winter makes you laugh a little slower, Makes you talk a little lower about the things you could not show her.

She's been watching me all night. Everywhere I turn, I feel her eyes as they burn a hole through the back of my head. I'm not sure what she wants; I haven't asked her yet.

I think she's drunk. No, I take that back, I know she's drunk. Otherwise her glances, if any would be quick and insecure. Only now that she's had a few-they make her stronger, she thinks-only now does she risk the constant surveillance she's been undertaking. No worries of her subordinates and friends, whispering behind her back; she's got an excuse. And, for the past forty minutes we've been dancing around each other. She'd look my way, I'd catch her eye, and we'd both turn back.

I know something's happened between her and Seven. You don't work that closely with someone for that long and not know when something changes. She'll tell me when she's ready. I hope.

And all of a sudden, out of the din of the crowd, I hear her laugh. That wonderful sound fills my ears and I instinctively turn toward her. She'd been talking with Chakotay and she laughs again as he hands her another drink. ---

All at once you look across a crowded room To see the way that light attaches to a girl ---

But then she does something that surprises me. She looks my way, and instead of the game of tag we've been playing, she gives her first officer a pat on the shoulder and starts walking. She has a look of determination in her eyes I haven't seen in a long time. And it scares me.

She's standing in front of me now, sipping her drink. Absently, she begins to trace the lines from the shoulder of my black dress. "Did you really mean it?" she asks. She doesn't look up. For a moment I'm dumbfounded and when I don't answer, she looks up at me out of the corner of her eye. "About the coffee."

And instantly I'm flooded with memories of a day so many years ago. "I'd even bring you coffee in the morning..." A joke, but not really. And you feigned denial, giving me one of 'those looks'. It was a defining moment in our relationship, or at least I thought so.

And then I'm shaken from my reverie by the feel of her hands as they softly caress my cheek. They've apparently migrated from my shoulder. "Can I walk you back?" I whisper. Somewhere along the way my voice seems to have gotten lost. And she nods without speaking, links her arm with mine and we leave, oblivious to anything and anyone but each other.

And it's been a long December and there's reason to believe Maybe this year will be better than the last I can't remember all the times I tried to tell my myself To hold on to these moments as they pass.

It's a quick trip. We don't speak; I walk and she moves at my left, her hips swaying seductively with each step. "Do you want to..." she asks when we stop in front of her door. I nod quickly, afraid that if I think too long, I'll walk away. I pick up her shoe when it falls from her hand and she laughs when I stumble, a private, magical sound that sends a shudder through my body even now.

She opens the door, turns to face me and in that instant, there is no one in the world but her and I. My dress falls to the floor, and her shoes on top. I pull at the front of her dress and when the arms come loose I am on her instantly.

My lips find their way to the hollow of her neck, to her breast and then back up again. She is moaning beneath me when I cover her lips with mine, fulfilling a dream I'd been saving since the day we first met.

But then she pushes me back and struggles to free me from my clothing. Her hands grasp the front and she fumbles with the ties. "Need some help?" I joke and finish what she'd started.

She doesn't laugh.

Her hands move from my breast to my thighs while I continue the ministrations on her neck, and all the while she is backing me into the room, determination and lust in her touch. And the intensity of it all scared me.

In her bed we react to all those years of un-realized tension and moments gone by. The passion and intense emotion find its way into our lovemaking and she feverishly lays claim to my body while I savor the remnants of my dream. I know it will never happen again.

Whether she is trying to prove something to me, or herself, I don't know. Maybe she is trying to make up for what she has done with Seven.

Or maybe she is really just drunk.

It isn't long before our fast pace becomes almost overwhelming. And as I call out her name, I realize that all the while, she has been crying, her tears falling to my breast. At some disconnected moment much later she whispers in my ear. "I'm sorry."

"I know." I answer quietly and hug her tighter.

I bring her coffee in the morning.

A long December and there's reason to believe Maybe this year will be better than the last I can't remember the last thing that you said as you were leaving Now the days go by so fast.

She's watching me. She has been all evening. Every now and then our eyes would meet and I'd smile and raise my glass. And then she turns her attention back to the group and Chakotay hands her another drink.

All at once you look across a crowded room To see the way that light attaches to a girl.

It's getting late, and the combination of alcohol, memories and her are making me tired. But I can't break with tradition. She doesn't disappoint me. It isn't long before I hear her footsteps and I turn around and smile. She reaches up and runs her hand across my bare shoulder. "Did you really mean it?"

I raise my eyebrow, feigning confusion. It's a game; we play it every year. "About the coffee." she says and I smile; a secret smile meant only for her. I raise my glass and brush it lightly against hers. "Wouldn't you like to know." I answer. And she grins, as we toast the beginning of a new year.

And it's one more day up in the canyon And it's one more night in Hollywood It's been so long since I've seen the ocean... I guess I should.

The End