by Dakota

Chakotay sat watching the lightning flash across an afternoon sky as dark as a moonless night. The storm had flared without warning turning a nearly cloudless blue sky to one filled with black clouds broken only by the harsh jagged flashes of light. The roll of thunder in the distance had grown louder as the storm moved closer until it was drowned by the crack of the lightning. The rain arrived, driven by a wind so strong it seemed to move across the clearing in front of the cabin. The storm moved on and the wind died allowing the rain to fall in torrents. Chakotay moved farther from the edge of the porch to escape the drops.

He glanced at the door of the cabin. The storm that had raged inside was as strong as the one above him, as strong and as unexpected. He had slammed out the door seeking to escape one storm only to be confronted by another. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could smell the ozone from the lightning strikes but it exhilarated him. The storm was primal, just as his lingering anger was primal.

The wind changed direction and picked up, blowing rain on him. He moved toward the door but didn't enter. He wasn't quite ready to confront the storm that raged inside. A nearby crack of lightning was followed by a crash. He turned toward the sound but couldn't see which tree had been hit. The rain had soaked him and was starting to drip down his face in rivulets. He shook his head and sighed. He felt cleansed and the last of his anger died. He smiled as he glanced at the door again. No, not yet. Kathryn would need more time. He walked to the porch swing and sat down to enjoy the end of nature's temper tantrum.

Chakotay heard the door of the cabin open but didn't look toward the sound. A moment later, Kathryn sat down next to him. "You're soaked."

"I know."

"Come inside."

"In a minute. The storm is almost over." Chakotay motioned toward the dissipating clouds. "I'm waiting for the silver lining."

"Forgive me?"

"If you forgive me."

"I love you." Kathryn stood. "Come inside."

"I love you." Chakotay stood. "Why do we fight?"

"I don't know." She took his hand.

"I hate fighting with you." He squeezed her hand. "Maybe we're like a storm – we have to clear the air once in a while."

Kathryn smiled as they walked toward the door. "Well, we certainly can match the violence of a storm."

Chakotay stopped at the door and turned her into his arms. "There's one thing I do like about our fights."

"Oh? What's that?" Kathryn put her hands on his arms.

"Making up."

"We are pretty good at that, aren't we?" Kathryn smiled up at him as the sun broke through the clouds.