Be Careful What You Wish For

by Barbara Watson

  Their rest break over, the two engineers turned back to their consoles and got back to work.

  ~*~*~*~*~

  As it turned out, Harry didn't need to proposition a woman to join him for dinner. Word came at 1400 hours that the captain was requesting her senior staff meet in her quarters at 1900. Their instructions: no uniforms, get dressed for dinner. Rumor was that Neelix was seen coming and going from their commanding officer's cabin all afternoon, and those passing by as the door opened noticed blending aromas they could only describe as 'mouthwatering.'

  Janeway had disappeared from the bridge at the end of the Alpha shift, and hadn't said a word on her way out. Not that this was unusual these days. The bridge was currently staffed by junior officers, while her key personnel were knee-deep in the critical modifications of their vessel.

  It was almost time. Kathryn looked around her home, satisfied. She wanted this night to be perfect, and Neelix had done a wonderful job making it so. In these times of rationing and shortages, there were limits to how much she could do. But leave it to her morale officer to make a little go a long way. Her two 'orders' for the evening: no leola root and no Talaxian spices. She did agree to let her friend replicate the ingredients and cook them himself, but with strict orders to follow the recipes to the letter. He had grudgingly agreed.

  With characteristic Borg precision, Seven arrived at exactly 1900 hours, on the arm--the captain noted--of her chief medical officer. The lanky blonde was dressed--uncharacteristically--in a wrap-around mid-thigh magenta dress, and her hair was down, swept up only behind one ear. It almost took Janeway's breath away to see her friend looking so...comfortably human. "Seven," she said as she welcomed them, "you look gorgeous. Where did you get this dress?"

  She would have sworn she saw Seven's cheeks redden slightly. "I have had it for some time, Captain. It was a gift..." she looked over at the doctor, "from a friend."

  Janeway caught the look and smiled at the Doctor. He had altered his program parameters to change from his uniform to a rather dashing tuxedo. "You're looking quite handsome yourself, tonight, Doctor," she offered.

  "Thank you, Captain," he said. "A new subroutine, also a gift." Now Janeway was sure a hologram couldn't blush, but still...

  The door chimed again. "Make yourselves at home," she said, motioning them into her living area. She answered the door to find Chakotay, holding a single red rose from the airponics bay. "You shouldn't have," she said as she met his gaze.

  "Technically, it's not edible," her first officer noted as he handed it to her, "so it wasn't subject to rationing." He stared into her eyes intently, throwing her off balance as he always seemed to in social settings. Soon his gaze moved to what she was wearing, appreciating the simple cream silk pantsuit he had seen several times before. She was sure she was blushing now. She immediately diverted his attention.

  "Say hello to Seven and the Doctor," she said softly, meaning only to get his eyes off of her for the moment. They walked over to the seating area where the first two to arrive were, strangely, standing.

  "Good evening," Chakotay offered.

  "Commander," Seven acknowledged.

  "I think, in this setting, if would be best if you called me Chakotay," he suggested. Suddenly the ex-Borg's date looked a little put out by the familiarity. Their hostess, however, was surprised to see that Chakotay hadn't seemed to take much notice of the change in Seven's appearance. She wasn't sure if she liked the oversight or not. Luckily, the door signaled a timely distraction for them all.

  She moved to press the release (shouting 'come in' seemed impolite when one was expecting guests, she felt), and was happy to see her old friend. "Tuvok, welcome," she said warmly.

  The door was just about to close as Neelix came rushing up, pushing a serving cart full of dishes. "Wait for me," he called out, pushing into the room, the smells of his cooking wafting in after him. "Dinner is served," he called.

  "Thank you, Mr. Neelix, but we'll have to wait a few minutes. Some of our guests haven't arrived." On cue, the door sounded, and the captain moved to admit Ensign Kim. "Harry, welcome," she said, "any clue when we might see the Paris/Torres family?"

  Harry grinned, sheepishly, on his friends' behalf. "They're on their way, Captain," he said. "B'Elanna was having a little trouble...," god, she'd kill him if she knew he was saying this, "...finding an appropriate dress that...fits." Kathryn and Chakotay smiled at the thought.

  Yes, Voyager's latest wager wasn't the traditional 'guess the sex, weight and delivery date' baby pool. At least two of these three questions could be easily answered with a standard medical tricorder. No, Voyager's version was a little less kind. 'Guess the date B'Elanna's uniform gives way.' The chief engineer spent a lot of time grousing over the fact that the end of her pregnancy was coming just as their replicator rations were cut off. And, since she was only the second pregnant woman to live on Voyager, Sam Wildman having long ago recycled her maternity clothes, B'Elanna gamely squeezed herself into the tight 'six months gestation' size uniforms every day. It was a matter of time, everyone knew, before the laws of tension and fibers won out. Harry hoped his friend never found out about his own wager in the pool.

  "Can I get anyone a beverage while we're waiting?" Neelix offered, playing host in his customary fashion. "Wine, coffee, Sarealen tea?"

  The group was impressed. "And how did you come to be in possession of these delicacies?" Commander Tuvok asked.

  The captain spoke up, "I have opened up the replicators this evening," she said smiling. "Each crew member, at the completion of his shift, will find sufficient rations for a nice, replicated meal waiting in their quarters. Tonight, we celebrate." With that the last of her guests arrived.

  The doors opened to reveal the couple, showing almost none of the tension the others knew they had just experienced. Everyone was anxious now to see what B'Elanna would be wearing, and her garment was a testament to her husband's creativity. Having helped her rip apart her closet, finding nothing she could squeeze herself into, Tom had finally handed her a long sapphire tunic he had worn on those days when he was feeling less than fit, himself. The oversized shirt on his wife's small frame made for a lovely maternity mini-dress, actually showing off the engineer's shapely legs rather nicely. Crisis averted. Her friends, of course, were careful not to mention that they recognized her dress as Tom's 'fat' shirt. They all valued their lives as well as B'Elanna's feelings.

  "I was getting ready to send out a search team for you two," the captain kidded them. "Glad you could make it."

  Without even glancing at his wife, Tom answered, "I'm sorry, Captain, I was late coming off duty then I couldn't find one of my shoes." Kathryn smiled that he was covering for his wife. This was one of the only ways she could think of that B'Elanna needed her husband's protection: wherever possible, he always tried to spare her embarrassment.

  "We're just glad you could make it. Come in and make yourselves comfortable." They walked in and took seats on the couch across from Chakotay and Harry, as Neelix took their beverage order (a draft beer for Tom and berry juice for B'Elanna).

  The captain took a moment to look around before she moved to join them. Here were her friends, the eight people closest to her in the world. After seeing them under such extreme strain the last few months, it was so nice to watch them relaxing, happy, dressed and acting like civilians without a care in the world. This is the way it should be, she felt. She considered each one carefully: enjoying the easy banter between Tom and Harry, the way her pilot's hand never left B'Elanna's knee as she joined in their conversation, the respectful verbal jousting of Tuvok and Neelix--even the now obvious affection in the eyes of the Doctor as he spoke softly with Seven. How could she have missed that before, she wondered. It was only when her eyes made it around to Chakotay that she realized she was being examined, herself.

  "So, Kathryn," he offered, "Somehow I think you gathered us all here for more than just dinner." She walked to place a hand on his shoulder and the other con
versations stopped.

  She smiled warmly at her guests. "According to my estimations, the modifications to Voyager in preparation for our journey are complete. And, while we still have simulations and systems checks to complete, I feel that this crew--after service above and beyond the call of duty in the Delta Quadrant--deserves to enjoy some of our last few days in exile." She took a few steps closer to them. "Therefore, I am restoring replicator rations to their pre-crisis levels and reopening Holodeck 2." As she expected, Tom and Harry looked the most excited at that news.

  "Captain," Tuvok interjected, "do you think it's wise to deplete our energy reserves? If we are unable to complete our mission...."

  She finished his sentence her own way, "...then it is unlikely that we will be needing our energy reserves." They were quiet for a moment. They all knew there were only three real options in their future: fail to open the conduit (meaning a likely retreat to colonize New Phoenix), open the conduit and make it home safely (in which case Starfleet would meet them with all the supplies they needed), or open the conduit and die inside it. Despite the Vulcan's concerns, Janeway's logic was sound. "Besides," Kathryn continued, trying to restore the mood, "we've earned this. A few days to remind us of what we have had here together, I think, isn't too much to ask. And, with that in mind, Mr. Neelix has been slaving over a hot stove all afternoon. Shall we eat?"

  The dinner conversation had been full of stories, reminiscing about the 'best and worst of times' as the Doctor often called them. After Janeway laid down the ground rule that no one was to be referred to by rank, herself included, the atmosphere had been one of a grand family dinner typical of a holiday celebration, though everyone enjoyed watching Harry's discomfort at calling the captain "Kathryn."

  Neelix had kept his word, and the meal was perfectly prepared and seasoned. They lingered at the table long after dessert, just savoring the company and the time away from their duties. It was well after 2330 when the Doctor mentioned the time.

  "Lieutenant Torres, if I'm not mistaken, you are thirty-minutes late for bed."

  Always 'thrilled' to be hovered over, B'Elanna started to argue the point only to have Tom give her a gracious way out. "Well, you might not be tired, but I am. Let's go." B'Elanna begrudgingly agreed.

  "Kathryn," she said a little uncomfortably, "thank you so much for this night."

  Her captain hugged her friend gently. "Pleasant dreams, B'Elanna." The two smiled warmly as Janeway moved on to Tom. "Thank you," she said softly as she leaned in to hug him goodnight.

  "For what?" he asked sincerely.

  "For staying," she replied. Tom returned her hug before putting his arm around B'Elanna's shoulders and walking to the door.

  "Wait for me," Harry called to them. His social safety net was about to walk out the door, and he decided to take that as his cue to leave. "I'll walk with you." He turned to Janeway and almost extended his hand. "Goodnight, Cap-Kathryn," he caught himself awkwardly.

  Sparing the ensign the embarrassment of either hugging or shaking hands with his captain, Kathryn put her arm on Harry's shoulder and walked with him to the door. "Good night, Harry. And--don't worry--it'll be 'Captain' again tomorrow." He smiled in relief and followed Tom and B'Elanna out into the corridor.

  She walked back to the table in time to see the Doctor rise and hold Seven's chair. This was a switch, Janeway thought to herself. Usually one had to kick the physician out of any party he attended, often after a long-winded commentary or ponderous speech. Maybe because a hologram couldn't eat, he had extra time to sit around thinking of things to say. Tonight, however, he seemed to be in a bit of a hurry to go.

  "Well, if you will excuse us, Kathryn, I think we'll call it a night."

  Seven looked at him quizzically. "'Call it a night?'" she asked?

  "An expression, Seven, meaning excuse oneself, head for home, you know...."

  Seven inquired, "'Hit the road'?"

  The Doctor looked slightly exasperated. "Yes, exactly."

  She nodded. "One might simply have said so." If Janeway didn't know better, she would think Seven had been flirting with him, in a Borg kind of way. Again she wondered what she had missed about this relationship?

  "In any case, thank you for a lovely evening," the Doctor said as he took his hostess's hand and kissed it.

  "Yes...Kathryn," Seven said almost as haltingly as had Harry. "Thank you for your hospitality." Janeway smiled at what she now realized was a budding romance--though, from the look in the Doctor's eyes, she felt perhaps he had been infatuated for quite a while.

  "Thank you both for coming," she said. "See you tomorrow." The Holodoc stepped aside to 'hold open' the door for his date then followed her into the corridor.

  Chakotay and Tuvok had moved to the sitting area, while Neelix loaded the dirty dishes into the recycler. The captain joined her friends, taking the open seat on the couch next to her first officer. "This was a lovely evening, Kathryn," Chakotay offered. "I think we all needed it."

  Tuvok agreed, "It does seem a logical way to boost staff morale before a difficult assignment. I was reviewing the staff productivity logs, and have found a 47% decrease in efficiency ratings, especially for those crew in the..."

  Neelix had finished his cleanup and stood watching the scene before him. Voyager's tactical officer had begun rambling on about crew efficiency and duty shifts, totally oblivious to his two senior officers seated before him. They, in turn, seemed to be unaware of the Vulcan prattling on about mundane ship's business in front of them. From the look in their eyes, all of Commander Chakotay's attention was being focused on the captain. All of her energies seemed to be going into avoiding the commander's gaze. One of the many side effects of Neelix's years as morale officer was a keen understanding of when to jump into a one-sided conversation. If ever he saw two people in need of a rescue, now was the time. He cut off Tuvok in mid-sentence.

  "Well, I'm finished here, Captain, so I guess I'll be going. Mr. Tuvok, I could use your help getting these serving utensils back to the mess hall, if you wouldn't mind." He walked over to Tuvok, gently grabbing his arm and pulling him up and toward the door.

  The Vulcan's eyebrows raised in typical fashion, as he extricated his arm from Neelix's hand. "Mr. Neelix, may I point out that I was engaged in a conversation, and that you seemed to have no difficulty getting your equipment down here without my assistance?"

  All too true, Neelix thought, scrambling to think of a good reason for them to leave. "Yes, but I would have to make several trips to collect everything, and I'm sure the Captain is getting tired."

  Janeway was slightly confused at her chef's insistence, "Actually, I'm..."

  She was cut off by Chakotay, who was now standing behind her. "I think it's very kind of you to offer to help Mr. Neelix, Tuvok. I'm sure he could use your assistance." Tuvok regarded him suspiciously--this entire situation defied logic--and it seemed his captain was looking a little confused herself.

  "Very well," the security chief replied, still smelling some kind of conspiracy, "I will assist you."

  Neelix smiled and handed Tuvok a large serving dish that would have easily fit onto the cart he was pushing. "Thank you very much, Mr. Vulcan," he said to Tuvok, practically pushing him out the door with his cart. When the way was blocked, preventing the Vulcan's return, Neelix turned back to the captain and said softly, "There was a half-finished bottle of Ktarian Merlot--I left it on the table with two glasses if you would like a nightcap." He winked at her then completed his exit, along with a very annoyed Vulcan.

  Now I understand, she thought. She took a deep breath before turning around.

  ~*~*~*~*~

  Seven and the Doctor had reached the turbolift without speaking. "Deck 8," he said when the doors closed.

  "But sickbay is on Deck 5," Seven pointed out.

  "Yes, I know, but it is customary to accompany one's date back to her home at the end of the evening."

  She considered this for a moment. Seven usually knew her own mind
quite well. This experience, however, was confusing. She and the Doctor had been sparring affectionately for over four years now, and she considered him her best friend. She couldn't deny, though, that--had he been a human male--she would probably have sought him out for a romantic relationship. He was not a human male, however. Was she a human female, though? Certainly, in almost every physiological respect, the answer was yes. But she felt uncomfortable in the presence of 'real' men--socially speaking, of course--and had found none of them her intellectual equal. And the Doctor was sentient; everything about him was 'real' in its own way. These contradictions were very unsettling to a mind that craved order.

  She had begun to question her own motives. Was she using the Doctor as a way to avoid a human relationship? Were her feelings real? Could one have a serious relationship with a being who was only questionably 'alive.' Her conversation in the Delta Flyer kept replaying in her head. Clearly Lieutenants Paris and Torres considered the Doctor real enough to be their child's godfather. And she knew her own friendship with him to be genuine as well. Why did a romantic relationship feel so different, so suspect? Yet she had made up her mind to use this night to test her feelings about changing the nature of their relationship, even though she knew there might be no going back.