Disclaimer: Paramount owns Startrek, but not our
imagination.
Summary: As
the title says, my first songfic. I’ve got Bon Jovi’s unplugged CD “This left
feels right”
for Christmas and I just couldn’t get
this version of “Bed of Roses” out of my head,
always kept me thinking of J/C
Well, I made a few
changes in the text, very few, I thought it’s fitting.
Timeframe:
Post Endgame
Rating:
PG
Dedicated
to Heike, without words.
Many
thanks to Gilly for the quick beta!
Bed
of Roses
By
Gine
This
Indiana morning was a rainy one.
She could barely remember the last time she had felt real rain on her naked skin,
the unique touch of the soft, liquid drops.
Without
thought Kathryn removed her light sweater.
Her
face to the soft drumming heaven she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.
Here in the park
the
air was fresh and clear, the scent of roses overwhelming.
The
rain left a trail of tears on her face, just a few at first, until they united
with the real ones that escaped from her eyes.
Slowly she lifted the two-coloured flower to her lips. The kiss was soft.
And the wind
blew away the whispered name. ”Chakotay.”
His name alone was enough to bring a smile to her face.
Even now, at the prospect of losing him to another woman,
all she could feel for Chakotay was the same
deep love that she had buried under the mask of a Captain for years.
They
had bonded a long time ago, it didn’t make any difference that they had never
consumated that bond completely.
Although
they had never talked about it, they both knew this was an untouchable truth.
When Kathryn
returned to her mother's house, the 'message waiting' light on the vidcomm unit
was blinking.
Someone
had tried to reach her and had obviously forgotten to close his link.
She activated the comm., but could barely recognize anything in the dark room that appeared on her screen.
Whoever had wanted to talk to her had gone, but she couldn’t break the connection.
Transfixed she stared
at the dark shapes before her trying to make out something familiar, until she heard the
soft music playing.
Someone was playing a piano, and the song was hypnotising.
She didn’t
know who was playing until she heard the voice, the voice of a desperate man.
The
emotional impact was so intense, almost mind blowing and at the same time
everything was suddenly clear.
Nothing
had changed between them.
She
leaned back in the chair, closed her eyes and listened to the singer who was
completely unaware of his audience.
This
morning I don’t know ‘cause a bottle of vodka is still lodged in my head
And
some blonde gives me nightmares I think she’s still in my bed
As I
dream of regrets I will have when I am dead
With
an ironclad fist I woke up no French kiss in the morning
While
some marching band keeps its own beat in my head and I want talking
About
all of the things that I long to believe about love and the truth and what you
mean to me
And
the truth is Kathryn you’re all that I need
I
want to lay you down on peace-roses for tonight I sleep on a bed of nails
I
want to be just as close as my spirit ghost is
Let
me lay you down on a bed of
peace-roses.
The
voice died away, the last tones of the piano became quieter and were finally
completely gone.
“Kathryn?”
Slowly she opened her eyes, the screen before her was no longer dark.
But his eyes were, such a deep dark brown, almost black with desire.
His hand was searching for
hers, a silent question. And she knew this was the last time he would ask.
“I
love you too, Chakotay.”
He
cried openly when her fingers finally reached for his.
The
peace-rose in her hand was covered with raindrops.
Fin