Meeting The Family

By Maquis Leader



Rating R



Kathryn’s grandmother frightened him. Chakotay knew it was silly, but when the old woman had looked up at him with her light blue eyes, he had the sensation that she could see into his soul. After Kathryn had introduced him, he’d moved away as quickly as he could without being rude and tried to lose himself in the crowd of relatives.


The hair on the back of his neck prickled and he looked up to meet the old woman’s gaze. She smiled and he smiled back before jerking his eyes away. You’re acting like some superstitious savage! His heart thudded painfully, ignoring his mental chant that she couldn’t steal his spirit.


“Chakotay.” Kathryn was startled when he flinched. “Are you all right?”


“Yes, just…” He looked around the crowded living room.


“Overwhelmed?” She smiled. “The Janeways are bad enough, but throw in the O’Manions and the Conners, and we’re quite the clan.”


The house was bursting with Kathryn’s relatives all there to welcome her home. And if the truth be told, to get a look at the man she’d brought home with her. He’d found them to be friendly and more than a little frank. Several had told him they felt he was a much better match for Kathryn than Mark had been. He’d nodded and said that he thought so, too. Her Uncle Laughlin had told him “Katie needs a strong man to hold her in line.” He’d nodded and agreed with that, as well. After making sure that Kathryn wasn’t within earshot.


“Are you sure there’s not a little Irish in you somewhere?” Kathryn’s Aunt Maggie took his chin in a firm grip.


“Not that I know of.” He looked over her head at Kathryn. She had clapped a hand over her mouth and was trying not to laugh.


“Must be somewhere.” Maggie turned his face. “Those cheekbones… reminds me of the O’Donnells, he does.”


“I… don’t…” Kathryn struggled to hold her laughter in. Chakotay’s high cheekbones bore no resemblance to any Irishman she’d ever seen. “He… “


“Hmm…” Maggie planted her hands on her hips and her voice took on a critical tone. “The children will all be this dark, do you think?”


Anger flared up and burned the laughter away. Taking Chakotay’s arm, Kathryn glared at her aunt. “Yes. They will. They’ll all have his beautiful golden skin.”


“Don’t be getting snippy – “


“Maggie!” The room fell silent as the old woman’s voice cracked. “Stop pawing the boy like he’s a prize stud. Mind your manners.”


While Aunt Maggie flushed and fumbled for an apology, Kathryn pulled Chakotay through the crowded room and out onto the side porch. “I’d forgotten how sharp her tongue is.”


“It’s okay.” He pulled her into his arms. “I am dark.”


“Yes.” She sighed against his chest. “Beautifully so.”


“So, how soon do you want one?”


“One what?”  She frowned up at him.


“One of these beautiful golden skinned children?” He smiled, dimples flashing.


“As soon as possible.” She clutched him to her and lifted her mouth to his.


Their hands moved restlessly over each other’s bodies while their mouths and tongues fused and mated. Her hands moved down his back to his taut buttocks and pulled him closer. One of his big hands cradled her head while the other cupped her ass and pulled her up astride his thigh. Between them, his cock hardened and throbbed.


“Don’t be making my great-grandchildren just yet.”


Chakotay jumped as Kathryn’s grandmother’s voice came from behind him.


“Grandma.” Kathryn panted, her cheeks flushed bright red. “We were just – “


“I know what you were ‘just’, I’m not that old.” She smiled at them.


He backed up as she came closer, stepping into his personal space. “Mrs. O’Manion?”


“Stand still, boy, let me look at you.” She cupped his face in her hands.


Kathryn could feel him trembling and laid a hand on his arm. What is he scared of? Does he think her approval matters that much to me?


The old woman’s eyes were so light they were almost colorless and Chakotay couldn’t tear his gaze away. She reminded him of the old man who had lived at the edge of his home village, the wichasha wakan who warned of bad things and who spoke with the spirits. The crazy  old man. One day when he was a child, the old man had grabbed him and looked at him with his strange white eyes, then told him he would leave Trebus and his bones would lie far away. He’d run home and hid in his room for hours. And he’d made sure to never walk near the old man’s lodge again.


“He is a savage one, Kathy. A warrior in his heart.” The old woman murmured. “But a man of peace, too. A contrary soul.”


“Yes.” She watched as her grandmother lifted a hand to trace the tattoo on Chakotay’s forehead. His eyes were wide and his breath was coming in ragged pants. Beneath her hand, she could feel his muscles quivering. “He’s a good man, Grandma.”


“Beautiful. Almost like the old Picts used to do.” Her fingers followed the dark lines into his sideburn.


Her fingers moved through his hair just over his ear and curved up along the side of his head. How does she know? Kathryn had seen the part of his tattoo hidden under his hair when the Srivani had done their experiments on the crew and his hair had fallen out. A few of Voyager’s crew had seen it, but no one else knew of it.


“It’s like a bird’s wing, very appropriate.” She patted his cheek. “He’ll bring the gift back strong in the family, Kathy. He’s a fey one. I can see it in him.”


Kathryn nodded; her grandmother had always had flashes of the sight. Good things and bad, something all her scientific training couldn’t explain away. “He has a spirit guide, Grandma.”


“A guide? Really?” A gray eyebrow went up and she smiled slightly. “I never had a guide.  It might have been helpful.”


The familiar arch of her brow and the crooked grin broke the spell and Chakotay felt a rush of warmth for the old woman. “Unci.” He enfolded her in a careful hug, feeling her fragile bones under his hands. “Grandmother.”


“You’ve lost everyone, haven’t you? Poor wee orphan.”


Tears burned Kathryn’s eyes as she watched her grandmother cradle Chakotay’s raven head on her shoulder. As she ran a hand soothingly up and down his back, Kathryn smiled. Poor wee orphan? Only her grandmother could hold a grown man almost twice her size and call him ‘wee’.  “I’ll take good care of him, Grandma.”


“Oh, I know you will.” She patted Chakotay’s cheek again as he raised his head. “I see plenty of great-grandchildren to keep me busy.”


Chakotay smiled at her. “You don’t mind the dark skin?”


“Never mind Maggie.” She snorted. “Why do you think she’s never married? Tongue like a viper. If she were my daughter instead of my sister’s, I’d have slapped her mouth long ago.” Her eyes took on a far away look.  “You’re a handsome thing, remind me of a man I knew years ago. Dark and wild he was. So was I… before I married Robert of course.”


Gaping after her grandmother as the older woman walked away, Kathryn tried to imagine her elegant, refined grandmother as a wild girl.


“The gift?”


“What?” She looked up at Chakotay. “Oh, you know, the sight. She ‘sees’ things sometimes. Some good.” She grimaced. “Mostly bad.”


“Like a vision?” He nodded. He had heard of the ‘sight’ as the Irish called it. “So why didn’t she warn you about Voyager?”


“Maybe because it wasn’t all bad.” She tugged on his shirtfront until he was close enough to kiss again.


Her lips were warm and soft, and Chakotay marveled once again that Kathryn Janeway was his to hold and kiss. Her tongue licked at him and he parted his lips to let her in.


Threading her fingers through his soft hair, she pressed closer and thrust her tongue into his mouth to taste him. Each kiss still seemed like the first and she couldn’t get enough of the taste and feel of him.


“Kathryn – upstairs – “ He gasped when they were forced to breathe. “I need you.”


Kathryn shivered at the desire burning in the black velvet eyes. So far their sex life had been rough and urgent. Their first time had left them both sore and bruised and the intensity had yet to let up. Every night was a marathon of wild fucking. “Think we’ll ever make love?” She nipped at his neck, making him shudder.


“In time.” Chakotay lifted her in his arms.  “For now, I need to mate with you.”


“Mate with me?” She laughed as he carried her up the stairs. “Grandma was right. You are a savage.”


A growl drifted down the stairs as he kicked their bedroom door shut.



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