In some ways, all of her other victories would be meaningless without this last one. She ended the datafile and marked it to upload. Attention: Starfleet Headquarters. Now she could only wait.
~*~*~*~*~
Chakotay's one datafile was a formal letter of inquiry to the Goodall Center for Anthropology; he had completed it several days ago, soon after his evening on the beach. He was reviewing their final preparations for the mission when his door chime sounded. "Come in."
Kathryn Janeway walked though the door wearing a deep burgundy velvet dress with a geometric plunge at the neckline. He had seen it only once before, but it had been memorable. "Care to escort a lady to a party?" she asked provocatively.
He didn't realize it was that late. "I'd love to," he said, picking up his jacket from the chair next to him. They walked together into the corridor.
"Just where are you holding this little get-together of yours?" he asked as they walked.
"Holodeck 2, of course," she answered knowing that wasn't what he met. He knew better than to ask again. Her secret was revealed soon enough, however, as the massive doors to the deck slid open to reveal her choice of settings for this final celebration.
He didn't recognize the room, but the view was unmistakable. The San Francisco skyline looked beautiful at night, with the fog rolling in off the bay.
"I considered Sandrine's briefly," Janeway smiled, "But it's a little too small to hold most of the crew." She was referring to a holographic replica of Tom Paris's favorite Marseilles hide out--their first public holoprogram. It had become a favorite 'neighborhood bar' for the entire crew for much of their trip. She had other reasons, however, for avoiding that setting, though she didn't share them with Chakotay.
Recently, she noticed, its author had seemed to move on, away from his need for the bar and what it had symbolized for him. She couldn't help but notice that Tom's loss of interest in his sanctuary seemed to coincide with the serious turn in his relationship with B'Elanna. Somehow, Janeway supposed, he was making some kind of choice to leave behind that part of himself and the memories it represented. Or maybe he no longer needed somewhere to hide. In any case, she didn't want to share their final family gathering in a setting with such ambiguous meaning.
"Besides," she said, "I thought this might help everyone remember why we've been working so hard. If all goes according to plan, we'll be having our next party in the real San Francisco, when they welcome us home." Her eyes were far away, and--while he didn't doubt her sincerity--Chakotay also knew that her personal motivations went even deeper. She wanted, he realized, to ensure herself of one evening--at home on Earth--with a crew she could imagine she'd led safely there. She had earned this bit of wishful thinking.
"Where are we?" he asked, indicating the large airy room with vaulted ceilings and an uninterrupted view of the Golden Gate Bridge. They were standing on the upper level, just inside the door, on an elevated landing. Before them were several steps down to a large area that resembled a ski lodge, full of couches and chairs, all carefully clustered to allow for intimate conversations among small groups. Further beyond them and slightly elevated from the seating area was a full bar next to an expanse he could only describe as a dance floor. The back wall was all glass--the source of the incredible view--interrupted only by the occasional pair of French doors leading out to a stone terrace. One wall held a massive fireplace, which was already glowing with flames. The setting looked as much like a grand hotel as it did a residence, though he could tell from the architecture that it was, in fact, a home.
"Admiral Stewart's 'Palace.'" She said jokingly. "Well, that's what I used to call it--when the Admiral was out of earshot." She looked around and said slyly, "I suppose rank does have its privileges.... I had the 'honor' of attending several formal Starfleet receptions here, and--though the company occasionally left something to be desired--I always loved this room."
She grabbed his hand and led him into the heart of the space. "What do you think?"
He was smiling at her eagerness to show off her handiwork. "I think you're very pleased with yourself," he kidded. "And you deserve to be--it's a great idea."
With that, the crew began to arrive. "Computer," she said softly, "initiate subroutine Janeway Reception Omega 1." With her command, holographic waiters began to appear, carrying trays of replicated hors d'oeuvres and champagne, and the room was filled with festive party music. No doubt about it, Chakotay thought to himself, she wants this night to be perfect. He started to move away to allow her to greet her guests, but she took his arm and pulled him along. They took their place at the entrance, where they could welcome their crew. Their guests.
Surprisingly, the engineering staff was among the first to arrive. They had put in a tough week, Janeway knew, and they would be critical to the success of tomorrow's flight. She was surprised B'Elanna had let them off duty so early. "Mr. Carey, welcome," she greeted him warmly.
"Thank you, Captain," Joe answered, a little flattered by the personal reception.
"I'm looking forward to finally meeting your boys when we get home," she said sincerely.
It was the kind of welcome she would repeat over a hundred times this evening, greeting each guest as they arrived, sharing a few words about their lives, making a personal connection to this crew she had cared for so deeply. Not once did she stumble over a name. This was a different Kathryn Janeway than the woman who had first taken command of this vessel so long ago. Then, it had been about her career in Starfleet; now, it was about her bond with her people. She was a better officer for it--and a better person.
Some of the greetings were more personal than others, of course. She had made good friends aboard this ship. She lit up each time one arrived. The first was Harry, with one--which one?--of the Delaney sisters on his arm. The captain shot her first officer a look of panic that silently said, 'Megan or Jenny?'
He understood her confusion. 'Make her smile,' Chakotay thought. Luckily, as she took a step toward the captain, the young woman grinned widely. Ah-ha! "Megan, nice to see you," Chakotay greeted her. "Is the stellar cartography lab all ready for tomorrow?" Kathryn was marveling at his coming to her rescue, the Delaney sisters being the only members of the crew their captain regularly confused.
"All set, sir," Megan offered.
"Don't let Harry keep you out too late," the first officer kidded. A little embarrassed, Harry grinned and led his date into the room.
"One day you're going to have to tell me how you know which is which," Kathryn whispered to him as the couple left.
"It's in the dimples," Chakotay laughed, remembering an argument he had once overheard between Harry and Tom. Kathryn raised her eyebrows in a rather Vulcan fashion, as she turned to greet Harry's companions on this obvious double-date.
"B'Elanna, you look wonderful," Janeway gushed as she took in her friend, also in velvet, but of midnight blue--and perfectly sized for her very pregnant body. "I'm guessing that's a new dress?"
Embarrassed, but grateful, B'Elanna smiled back at her. "Thank you for the extra replicator rations--and don't try to tell me you weren't behind them!"
Kathryn pleaded ignorance, truthfully. She suspected, however, that the guilty party was standing right behind her. "You do look lovely," Chakotay agreed, trying to look innocent.
"Admiral Stewart's Palace!" Tom said as he looked around the room.
"How do you know about that?" his captain asked with some shock.
"My father dragged me to a stuffy party here once when I was in high school. I overheard one of his ensigns call it that when she thought nobody was listening." Janeway's eyes widened, as she wondered just how often she and Tom had been in the same room without knowing it, and what other secrets of hers he didn't know he knew. "I hated that party, but I always loved this view!" He took B'Elanna's arm and led her down the steps, anxious to show her around.
Ensign Tabor and Crewman Jor were the next to arrive. They had come to Voyager as part of Chakotay's crew, comrades in b
attle, but not close friends. Tabor, a Bajoran, had lost his entire family under brutal circumstances in the Cardassian War. His outrage had driven him to join the Maquis, and he wore his pain like a badge. Jor had always been reserved, Chakotay remembered, and he never quite knew her story. Each had made friends on Voyager, and they were both well-liked, but they seemed to prefer each other's company. Over the years, the commander had seen the two sharing dinner, private jokes, and deep conversations in the mess hall. They were very reserved people, however, and Chakotay never pried into their relationship. He hoped they had found some peace in each othert. There was a good chance they and the other former-Maquis might need it when they got home. The couple greeted the captain and first officer warmly before heading to a quiet corner of the room.
Janeway was a little surprised when Seven arrived with Icheb as her escort, then she noticed the Doctor enter only a few steps behind. She smiled, suspecting this new relationship might resemble the first dates of a single parent and her new beau--one always had to be careful with the child's feelings. Not that Icheb was truly a child any longer; but he had a kind of innocence about him that Kathryn wouldn't have expected in most seventeen year-olds. Ironic that growing up Borg had been, in its own way, a sheltered existence.
"Welcome to San Francisco, Icheb," the captain offered.
"Thank you, Captain. I'm looking forward to seeing the real thing." Janeway smiled. If everything went as planned, the young man would be spending a long time in this city.
She stood with Chakotay at the top of the stairs another thirty minutes, until the last of their guests had arrived. Only then did she grab a glass of champagne and something to eat. She started thinking about the timing of her announcement. It was too early. 'Let them have some fun,' she thought. 'They've earned it.'
An hour later, and the party was in full swing. Literally. Tom had taken control of the mood music, and they had been dancing for twenty minutes to something he called the 'Big Band Sound'. Kathryn had to admit it set a nice atmosphere for the party, alternating between up-tempo dance tunes and romantic ballads. It was the kind of music that lured out the good dancers, and their captain was surprised to find some hidden talents in many of her crew.
Perhaps the biggest surprises were the Doctor and Seven, who looked like they had been practicing ballroom dancing for quite a while. They 'turned a few heads,' as Tom said. Because of his wife's condition, Voyager's pilot was limited to dancing to the slower numbers, though Kathryn did see B'Elanna twirled gently a few times with a grace that looked practiced. Harry was another story. He and Megan were practically flinging one another through the air during something called a 'jitterbug'. Kathryn knew Harry and the twins had spent a lot of time with Tom in the holodeck. They had clearly done more than just battle monochromatic villains from the Fifth Dimension.
The captain was so enthralled at the scenes playing out in front of her that she barely noticed him come up behind her. "Care to dance?" he asked.
She smiled. "I don't know," she kidded, "the competition is pretty good. Think we can keep up?"
Chakotay grinned slyly, "If your Fox Trot is as good as your 'dying swan' ballet, they won't stand a chance." That was an invitation she couldn't refuse.
He walked her to the dance floor and took her in his arms, just as the song changed. The soft strains of 'Moonlight Becomes You' filled the room, and he looked with great affection at the woman standing before him. "It does, you know," Chakotay said mischievously.
"Excuse me?" she asked softly.
"Moonlight," he whispered, remembering their evening on the beach.
"You know our agreement," she reminded, scolding him gently.
"How could I forget? I'm counting the days," he replied, his tone equal parts anticipation and affection. "You're not going to back out on me, are you Kathryn?"
She tightened her grip on his shoulder and leaned in so only her dance partner could hear. "Chakotay, if we make it home safely, I'll kiss you in the middle of Admiral Stewart's real living room in front of every admiral in Starfleet."
He couldn't help but laugh out loud, drawing more attention than she would have preferred. Chakotay couldn't care less. He was holding his future in his arms, and he was happier than he had ever been. In a few days--a few weeks at most--this fantasy would be real. It was all he needed to know.
Tom and B'Elanna were sitting this one out while she got something to eat. Her appetite had been ravenous the last few weeks, and Tom suspected this was a sign of some kind of turning point in her pregnancy. They found a table just off the dance floor and were watching their friends enjoy the music Tom had programmed.
B'Elanna smiled as she saw Samantha Wildman spin Naomi around the room. There was a kind of irony, she realized, at how easily the human Sam took in stride her daughter's Ktarian features. The child's mixed heritage was clearly unimportant to them. If anything, her daughter's forehead spikes were a happy reminder of the husband Sam loved and missed so much. And Torres knew how much everyone on Voyager loved Naomi. If there were a better-adjusted child in the galaxy, B'Elanna had never met her. She thought about how soon--maybe as early as their real homecoming party--she might be enjoying a similar celebration, holding her own child in her arms. She couldn't wait.
Tom was more interested in the couple off to one side. Something had changed between the captain and her first officer, he was sure of it. None of their friends ever pried into the relationship, but Tom knew things had been tense only a few weeks ago. The two seemed to have resolved their problems; he couldn't remember having seen Chakotay so happy. Tom was smiling in their general direction when B'Elanna noticed him staring at the couple.
"Hey," she kicked him under the table.
"Ow...what was that for?" He usually knew when he was breaking one of their rules.
B'Elanna smiled, but scolded him anyway. "Stop looking at them! They deserve some privacy. Or don't you remember how much we hated people staring at us when we were--" she stopped herself.
Tom eyed her suspiciously, "You know something, don't you?!"
B'Elanna was mentally kicking herself now. She promised Chakotay she wouldn't say anything, but she did know the basic details of her friends' 'agreement,' and she was sworn to secrecy. "I don't know what you're talking about," she tried to cover. She was a terrible liar, and Tom knew her too well.
"You were going to say, 'when we first started dating,' weren't you?"
B'Elanna was having trouble keeping a straight face. She decided a threat might be more effective than a lie. "Thomas Eugene Paris, if you breathe a word of this..."
Her husband just laughed and put his arm around her. "I'm happy for them, B'Elanna. It's about time! And I promise I won't say a word." Of course, that was the moment Harry decided to join them.
"Say a word about what?" he asked.
Tom didn't miss a beat. "About the captain and Chakotay dating." B'Elanna kicked him again. "Hey!" he tried to look indignant, though he knew very well why his leg hurt this time. "You didn't say not to tell Harry. You know the rule, B'Elanna: if 'don't tell anybody' means 'don't tell Harry' you have to say so."
She could only shake her head, since that was, in fact, their rule. "Harry Kim," she moved to aim at a new target, "if you tell anyone..."
Her friend laughed. "I know, I know." The only difference was that Harry really was a little afraid of what B'Elanna would do to him. He had to admit, though, he was happy for the captain and Chakotay, too. Why was it, he wondered, that everyone seemed to be pairing off in the final days of their trip--except him?
"Where's Megan?" Tom inquired, as if reading his mind. Harry's hangdog expression was answer enough. Tom scanned the dance floor, catching a glimpse of his friend's date looking longingly at Mike Ayala as the tall, muscular security guard swayed gently back and forth with her in his arms. "Geeze, Harry, what happened?"
Good question, Harry thought. "I went to get us something to drink, and when I came back they were dancing. Like that. For six son
gs--even the fast ones."
Tom forced himself not to laugh. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out why Harry had such terrible luck with women. Maybe his old girlfriend Libby had put some kind of curse on him before he left Earth.
B'Elanna took pity on their friend, stood up, and extended her hand. "Come on, Harry," she said, inviting him to dance. "Let's make my husband jealous."
Tom smiled and watched them go, his two best friends in the world. The three had been inseparable for much of their seven years on Voyager, long before he and B'Elanna were a couple. Tom had even wondered at one point early on if Harry wasn't secretly interested in B'Elanna romantically. Lucky for them all the answer was no. Harry was just a nice person--the 'normal' guy who liked to seek out the misfits and make them friends. And Tom and B'Elanna were certainly misfits when they came aboard. Looking back, Tom wondered how different his and B'Elanna's lives might have been if Harry hadn't taken a chance on getting to know them.
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