Be Careful What You Wish For

by Barbara Watson

  She also knew that the 'walk home at the end of the date' usually resulted in a 'goodnight kiss.'

  The lift doors opened, and they began to walk slowly to Cargo Bay 2. "Seven, I was wondering..." he said haltingly. The Doctor was clearly nervous, an unusual state for him. She found it strangely endearing. "Have you considered how you will spend your holodeck time?"

  An unexpected question. "I don't plan to 'spend' it at all. I have never seen the value of creating an artificial reality as a means of entertainment." She wasn't judgmental in her tone, just honest.

  "Indeed," he suggested, "a holodeck can help one test out new social situations in an unthreatening environment. I thought, perhaps, you and I might combine our allotments and practice some...new social scenarios. In anticipation of our arrival on Earth, I mean. Certainly you'll want to be prepared for any new...relationships you might develop once you arrive."

  Seven considered this. "Almost like a shuttle simulation?" she offered.

  He frowned. "I guess you could put it that way." Not the most romantic analogy, he feared. They were just steps away from Seven's 'front door.'

  "As I recall, Doctor, the last time we used the holodeck to simulate a social situation, you ended up wagering with Mr. Paris on my success."

  A painful reminder, but true. "I have apologized for that, Seven," he said sincerely. "Besides, in that situation, I was your teacher and you, my pupil." If there were a bravery subroutine, he was about to engage it. "I thought, perhaps, in this scenario, I might be your.... That I might have some things to learn, myself. That, perhaps, we could learn them together."

  Seven considered her friend's obvious vulnerability. "In that case, Doctor," she said as they stopped in front of her door. "I would agree to sharing our allotted time."

  The Doctor was now smiling widely, and swept her hand into his, bringing it up to kiss her knuckles. She quickly pulled it away. Before he could look hurt, she offered. "If I am correct, this is technically our third date." He supposed on one level that was true, but was still unsure of the significance. "I believe social protocols dictate that, on one's third date, a kiss on the lips is the appropriate end to an evening." Before he could say anything, she leaned over and gave him a gentle, almost schoolgirlish kiss. Before he could even react, she pulled away. "Goodnight, Doctor," she said, and the cargo bay doors swished shut behind her.

  "Goodnight, Seven," he said to no one, and wandered slowly back to sickbay.

  ~*~*~*~*~

  Now alone in her quarters with Chakotay, Kathryn found herself wishing for the safety of the larger group. She and her first officer had shared a private dinner once a week for over six years before the rationing began. This was a different situation, she knew. No longer were they to be trapped indefinitely in the Delta Quadrant, the only representatives of Starfleet determined to keep their protocols intact. A little more than a week from now, everything would be different. Yet neither had any idea what that would mean.

  "We've been here alone before, Kathryn," he broke the silence. "I don't remember you being this nervous then." He had taken Neelix's suggestion and poured them both glasses of wine.

  Her hand shook a little as she took hers. "What makes you think I'm nervous?" she asked, as if it weren't written all over her.

  "You forget that no one knows you better than I do," he answered, walking back to sit on her couch. She followed him and sat beside him, though a comfortable distance apart. He decided it would serve his interests best to get her mind off of her discomfort. Torturing her was not what he had in mind.

  "Have you given any thought to what you want to do when we get home?" he wondered.

  "Actually, no," she answered honestly. "I know I want a big sloppy kiss from my dog! Irish setters don't live much past ten, unfortunately, and Mark says he thinks Molly is hanging on just to see me."

  While the thought of Kathryn kissing her dog had done nothing to make Chakotay jealous, the mention of Mark was another story. "How is he doing?" he asked. Her ex-fiancée was a sore subject for them both.

  "He's doing well, actually. He and his wife are expecting a child, not too long after Tom and B'Elanna's baby is due." The life she could have had, but didn't. Now it was her who wanted to change the subject. "How about you? Have you made any plans for the future?"

  "That's a little difficult for me at this point," he offered. "I have no idea how much control I'll have of my own destiny. At least for the next seven to ten years." He was grinning, though neither of them found the prospect of his imprisonment amusing.

  "You know I'll do everything in my power to make sure the charges against you are dropped." She moved to sit closer so she could touch his arm resting on the back of the couch. "You and B'Elanna, and the rest of the former Maquis, you were fighting for a cause you believed in deeply. And, in the end, you were proven right about the Cardassian treaty. Your service on this ship has been exemplary. You've earned the right to your freedom, your commission...." He was unconvinced.

  "My commission." His salvation and his prison. "I think it might be a little optimistic to think I'll be allowed to keep my rank."

  Perhaps, she thought. "But I need you here with me," she said impulsively.

  "As your first officer?" he asked pointedly. Her whole body straightened as she realized the implication of her statement and of his question. Before she could answer, they heard the call.

  "Carey to Commander Chakotay."

  He paused a second before responding. "Chakotay here." Kathryn looked away from him.

  "I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but there's a minor coolant leak--nothing dangerous--but I have to take the mains offline to repair it. I need someone with level six security access to authorize the shutdown. Normally I would call Lieutenant Torres, but you asked me not to wake her."

  The first officer continued looking at his captain as he answered, "I'll be right there, Lieutenant. Chakotay out." He put his wine glass on the coffee table and headed for the door. "Saved by the bell," he said to her over his shoulder, only a little sarcastically. He was hurt, she knew.

  She watched the door close behind him, still wondering how she would have answered his question.

  ~*~*~*~*~

  This was a big day for Tom Paris. Despite their late night at Captain Janeway's party, he had gotten up early, practically sneaking out of bed so as not to wake his sleeping wife. However, as a half-Klingon (and as a pregnant woman, for that matter), her sense of smell was particularly acute, and she was now calling out to the living area from their bed. "Tell me you're not having that for breakfast!" she groaned.

  "What?" he asked, his mouth still full. There was soon a very pregnant woman, hands on her hips, standing alongside him.

  "Tom, pizza for breakfast?!" She was shaking her head.

  "Hey, we didn't need to use our replicator rations for dinner last night, so I thought.... It's been so long, B'Elanna. Besides, cold pizza for breakfast is an old Earth delicacy."

  She smirked at him and sat down, pulling off a slice for herself. "I thought I was the one who was supposed to have cravings," she joked, taking a bite. Not bad cold, she thought, but said instead, "You'll make yourself sick."

  He shook his head, his mouth still half full. "I see you're not worried about getting sick yourself," he observed.

  "Redundant stomach," she reminded him.

  "Lucky girl," he joked leaning over to lick some stray sauce off of her lip. They kissed for a while until B'Elanna flinched and pulled away.

  "Ouch!" Her hand had gone to her belly.

  "Are you okay?" Tom asked, a little worried at how close she was getting to her due date. Well, what they thought would be her due date: no one knew what impact her combined genetic structure would have on the length of her pregnancy.

  "I'm fine," she said, still grimacing a little. "I just got a swift kick in the gut," she explained. "If I didn't know better, I'd think your daughter doesn't like pizza for breakfast," she kidded.

  "How come she's 'my daugh
ter' every time she kicks you?" Tom put his lips close to her belly and spoke in a fake-fatherly growl. "Don't make me come in there, young lady!" For the double and triple entendre, B'Elanna smacked him hard on the head.

  "Hey!" he whined. "I'm not the one who kicked you, remember."

  She couldn't help but laugh. "You're going to be a bad influence on this child, you know," she scolded him.

  "I hope so," he said softly, now kneeling in front of her, eye to eye. When he spoke, his eyes squinted just slightly, in what she found the sexiest of his many expressions. "I've been a bad influence on her mother, and that's worked out pretty well." He kissed her deeply, practically pulling her off the chair. He held her so tightly, that this time he was the one who cried out. "Hey! She got me that time!"

  B'Elanna laughed, "Actually, she got us both. You know, maybe it isn't the pizza. Maybe she doesn't like to see her parents kissing."

  Tom's eyes narrowed at that thought. "She'd better close her eyes, then," he said, moving back into their clinch, "because she ain't seen nothin' yet." He stood up quickly, swept B'Elanna into his arms and carried her back to the bed. It was less a grand romantic gesture than a hostage-taking. The pizza would be even colder before they got back to it.

  ~*~*~*~*~

  Chakotay had published the duty roster for the next four days to the personal database of each member of the crew. With it, he had sent out a blank holodeck schedule for each person to request his or her ninety minutes. Requests started pouring in immediately. Not surprisingly, he could see a pattern of crewmembers he suspected were pooling their time, trying to make the most of their last chance for a real break before heading home.

  A macabre thought entered his mind: that in some ways, this might be a metaphorical 'last meal and cigarette' for the crew--a last glimpse of pleasure before being sent to their deaths. He shook off the thought and kept working.

  This is a surprise, he thought. Harry had booked his time for that same evening, in between the segments reserved by Jenny and Megan Delaney. He would have thought Harry and Tom would join forces, maybe play one of their holodeck role-playing games. Ten minutes later, however, he saw Paris reserve his time and B'Elanna's for the last night available. Recognizing that they probably were looking forward to some private time alone, Chakotay realized that this might be the last chance any of them may have to get their relationships in order before their dangerous trip home.

  He found himself booking the last three hours--his time and the captian's--for the final available timeslot, just after Paris and Torres. He then touched the screen and pulled up the ship's status reports. He needed to get his mind back on his work.

  ~*~*~*~*~

  The mess hall was now reopened for the duration of their trip, and--even though they had enjoyed a non-traditional breakfast in their quarters, Tom and B'Elanna came in to look for Harry. While Tom stopped to pour a cup of Neelix's coffee, B'Elanna--ruining the running wager by wearing a newly-replicated, properly-sized uniform--searched the crowded room for their friend.

  She found him huddled over a PADD with--of all people--the Delaney sisters. As she got close to their table, Jenny elbowed her sister firmly in the side and said, "I think we should get to work."

  Megan saw the engineer approaching and agreed. "See you tonight, Harry," she said as they stood and walked to the door.

  "Megan, Jenny," B'Elanna said as they passed her. She squeezed herself into the chair Megan had vacated and glared across the table at her friend. "What was that about, Harry?" she asked.

  He smiled guiltily. "I need your help," he said with a touch of mischief. He explained his secret plan to her quickly, before Tom arrived. She was happy to play along.

  "You're looking wickedly into my wife's eyes," Tom said as he took the seat next to B'Elanna. "I'm not the jealous type, but you could at least have the decency to flirt with her behind my back," he said grinning at them both.

  "He's on to us, Harry," she said in mock seriousness. "The marriage, the baby...looks like our little diversions didn't work." She kissed Tom deeply on the lips. "I have to get to engineering," she whispered softly before she stood up. "Defend my honor," she demanded gently before she walked away.

  "Wow, that was pretty...passionate for the mess hall," Harry said, surprised. B'Elanna was always a little shy about public displays of affection, even after she and Tom were married.

  "Let's just say we had a good morning," Tom grinned.

  Harry's reaction wasn't so pleasant. "That's more information than I need, thank you," he said, then changed the subject. "So, what time are you off duty tonight?"

  Tom knew Harry had booked holodeck time that evening, and he also knew the Delaney sisters' time bookended his friend's. "Why, what are you up to?"

  Harry was a lousy liar, but that didn't mean he had to answer Tom's question. "Just be in your quarters at 1800 hours. That's an order." Harry stood up and winked at his friend before walking away.

  "Yes, sir," Tom called out to him, being careful to sound sincere. Of course, he wasn't about to walk into Harry's trap blindly. He downed the last of his coffee and headed for the bridge.

  ~*~*~*~*~

  Tom knew B'Elanna was in on it when she made a flimsy excuse to work late. Never one to disobey a direct order--okay, almost never--he returned to his quarters promptly at 1800. He found his Captain Proton outfit laid out carefully across his bed. He smiled and quickly changed out of his uniform. "Harry, I can read you like a cheap novel," he said as he pulled on the jacket, probably for the last time. He grabbed his goggles and headed for Holodeck 2.

  The program was running when he arrived. Megan and Jenny were deep into their roles as the Twin Mistresses of Evil, Demonica and Malicia, and Harry was in typical Buster Kincaid trouble as our hero entered the story. "Die you twin demonesses of darkness," Captain Proton cried out as he drew his comatizer. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, came the mad Doctor Chaotica, his henchmen locking the Captain in the dreaded Dememorizing Chamber. "It's...up...to...you now, Buster," Proton called to his trusty sidekick. " When they activate the Chamber, I'll barely remember my name. Only you can save the President of Earth. I only hope you...."

  With that, Chaotica pulled the switch, and the lights of the chamber flashed brightly. I don't remember writing this part, Harry thought, as he watched Tom writhe in mock agony. With that, however, he swung into action, knocking the weapons from the hands of the evil Twins and comatizing the henchmen with Proton's discarded gun.

  For the next four hours, Buster Kincaid helped his bravery-impaired Captain out of one dire straight after another, cornering and losing Chaotica and his evil henchwomen time after time. There was also, Harry noted, a protracted plotline where Buster was subjected to the horrors of 'torture' at the hands of the dimpled Demonica--with not a single interruption from our still memory-deprived hero. Finally, having accomplished their goal of rescuing Earth's 'President,' Proton's memories seemed to return to him.

  Three minutes before their time was up, the story ended and our heroes were victorious. "Computer, remove characters," Harry called out as Megan and Jenny walked toward them.

  "Great game, Harry!" Megan said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

  "Thanks for talking us into it," Jenny said, rubbing her hand on his arm. The twins gathered their props and called for the exit.

  "Yeah, great story, Harry," Tom said in mock innocence.

  "Sure," Harry answered, "except that it isn't the one I wrote." He looked at his best friend as it all dawned on him. "You changed the narrative parameters file so Buster would be the hero of the story."

  Tom smiled at Harry and put his hand on his friend's shoulder as they walked toward the exit. "Computer, delete program," was all Tom would say in reply. "I think we're done with Captain Proton, Harry. Next time, it's the Excelsior and a different famous captain...who looked a little bit like you, if I remember my history texts...." The friends went back to Tom's quarters to have a beer and fill B'Elanna in on their adventure befo
re calling it a night.

  ~*~*~*~*~

  The next day had been an uneventful one for Seven of Nine. She had spent the bulk of it assisting Lieutenant Torres in a complete warp core diagnostic--her standards of perfection being more important than ever as they completed their preparations. No anomalies were found, however, so there was little to divert her mind from the evening ahead of her.

  At 1800 hours, she met Icheb in Astrometrics to help him review the materials for an examination Commander Tuvok would administer the next day. The lesson in stellar geometry was rudimentary, even for her pupil, but she tried to immerse herself in the exercise to keep her thoughts from straying. It hadn't worked.