For my husband, Don, quite possibly the coolest guy in the universe.

By Linda Bidner
Don@math.uga.edu

Chapter 1
The Dangers of Reading

Ensign Harry Kim hurried down the curving corridor, attempting to hastily attach his Ensign's pips to his shirt collar while not tripping over his boots in the process. He arrived at the mess hall out of breath and disheveled despite his efforts.

"Harry! Over here!" Tom Paris waved at Kim from a table across the room.

Harry waved back before he took his place in the breakfast line. He rubbed his eyes still blurred from the night while waiting for his turn.

"Good morning, Ensign!" Neelix boomed and held out a tray full of what looked like a mass of oatmeal. "And how are you this fine morning?"

Harry grabbed the tray with a forced smile. He took a whiff of the food on the tray, then wished he hadn't and had to hide his subsequent grimace from Neelix. He knew that Neelix was doing his best to create delicacies that would make the Voyager crew feel at home in the Delta Quadrant, but somehow the food always made their plight seem that much worse, their surroundings even more alien.

Neelix, ever on the lookout for the well being of the crew, caught Kim's sour expression. "What's wrong, Ensign? Don't you like oatmeal?"

Kim was quick to mask his displeasure. "No, not at all," he assured Neelix. When the Talaxian's face fell at what sounded like Harry's extreme dislike of his cooking, Kim had to think fast to fix the damage he'd done. "That's not what I meant, Neelix," he protested. "I mean that I like oatmeal just fine. This looks like a great breakfast." He held the tray aloft and grinned what he hoped was a convincing grin.

Neelix looked unconvinced. "That's not what it sounds like to me. It sounds more like what Lieutenant Tuvok says is a slip of the tongue; you really don't like my cooking, you just don't want me to know about it."

Kim sighed. He truly didn't want to deal with something this complex first thing in the morning, but he didn't want to hurt Neelix's feelings, either. So he tried again. "It wasn't a slip, honestly, Neelix. I didn't mean it to come out like that. I guess I'm just tired this morning."

Neelix's face lost the hurt look immediately. "You do look a bit peaked now that I think about it. Are you all right, Ensign? Is there anything wrong that I can help you with?"

Now he'd done it - Neelix was on one of his morale kicks again. Kim sighed. All he really wanted to do was sit down and eat his oatmeal before it turned cold. "No, nothing's wrong. I just stayed up too late. I was reading."

Neelix's face split into a grin. "Oh! Are you reading The Lands of Peril and Disappointment?"

Kim's face lit up in disbelief. "Yes! How did you know?"

Neelix shook his head self-importantly. "You'll remember that I'm not only the cook on this ship, but also the morale officer. It's my sacred duty to keep up with the goings on of the crew. Besides, I wanted to read it again and I noticed that you had already accessed it from the ship's library. So, what do you think?"

Excited now, his exhaustion and breakfast forgotten, Harry plunked the tray back down on the counter and said, "I can't believe how good it is! I stayed up until oh-five-hundred this morning reading it. I couldn't put it down."

Neelix leaned as far across the counter as he could without disturbing the trays he had stacked there. "Have you come to the part where Latavia and Bar meet up with the curator of the ship?"

Kim's grin widened. "Yes! I thought sure he would turn out to be the one behind all the assassinations, but now I don't quite know. All the characters and plots are getting so mixed up, it's hard to keep everything straight. I have to keep notes and refer to them all the time."

"That's what I had to do the first time I read it!" Neelix exclaimed. "It's a masterful story. Full of political intrigue and dastardly villains. I love it!"

Kim's grin disappeared as he tried to stifle a yawn. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I only got two hours of sleep last night because of that book."

"I know just the thing," Neelix said and slapped the counter with his hand. "I'll brew up a nice strong pot of coffee just for you."

Coffee? Harry always associated coffee with Captain Janeway and felt that it was her personal beverage. To drink it would somehow be a violation of Captain's privilege. Although he admittedly thought that was a ridiculous notion, he had a hard time convincing himself not to adhere to it. He hesitated. "I don't know, Neelix. I'm not a big coffee drinker...."

Neelix waved the Ensign's excuses aside. "You'll love this, trust me. And I'll be sure to put plenty of caffeine in it to give you that extra little kick to get you going today. It's just the thing. Now you sit down and eat your breakfast. I'll be right out." He bustled back into his kitchen.

Kim sighed, but was left with little choice. When Neelix came up with an idea that he thought would help some unfortunate crewmember, all anybody could do was sit back and let the Talaxian do his thing. Hopefully his "thing" wouldn't have too many adverse effects.

Harry threaded his way around the other early duty personnel in the mess hall and finally managed to plop his tray on the table and fall into the empty seat across from Tom Paris.

Tom looked up. "You look like hell."

Kim gave Tom a warning glance. "I can always count on you to see the positive side of any situation."

Paris grinned. "That's right, just call me the ship's optimist." He indicated Kim's tray of breakfast glop. "What took you so long? I thought maybe you'd gotten lost."

"I did," Harry answered Tom's teasing remark. "Neelix snagged me."

"Uh-oh. What's he doing for you now?"

Kim smiled, but felt he had to come to Neelix's defense. "That's not nice, Tom. He's only trying to help."

"Yeah, that may be, but Neelix's help has the tendency to have lasting and not so pleasant side effects."

"He's just making me coffee."

"But you don't drink coffee," Tom pointed out.

"He says it will wake me up. Something has to, or Chakotay will be all over me for falling asleep during a duty shift."

Tom looked at Harry more closely. "Oh no." His voice denoted imminent doom.

Kim glanced at him, puzzled. "What?"

"You did it again."

"Did what?"

"You stayed up all night reading, didn't you?"

Harry took an experimental bite of oatmeal. "Yes."

"You told me that you never used to read at home," Paris accused.

Harry shrugged. "Well, it's different on Voyager. I read all the time here. So?"

"So?" Tom's tone became incredulous. "Harry, Harry, Harry. What am I going to do with you?"

Harry's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Nothing, that's what. Absolutely nothing."

"Harry Kim, how do you plan to ever meet anybody on this ship if you're always holed up in your quarters reading a book?"

"I like to read," Harry protested. He blew on another bite of oatmeal, which, once he got passed its unappealing smell, tasted surprisingly good. At least it was warm. "And I've met everybody I'm likely to meet on this ship. It's not like we pick up new passengers every other day."

Tom hit his forehead with a hand in mock despair. "That's not what I'm saying, Harry! I'm telling you, maybe you think that you know them, but you don't really know them."

"Is there a point to this?" Harry asked around the food in his mouth.

"Yes," Tom nodded vigorously. "There's definitely a point here. You need to get out more. Come to Sandrine's with me. Talk to some of the guys there - "

Harry interrupted, "You mean the girls, don't you?" He yawned again.

Tom let his hand fall to the table and he gave Kim a look of surrender. "Okay. Have it your way. Sit in your room, then. Sit there until we get back to the Alpha Quadrant, see if I care. But just don't come crying to me when all those people back home ask you for stories of life in the Delta Quadrant and all you can say is that you sat in your room, reading, and missed out on everything else." He crossed his arms in satisfaction just as Neelix arrived at their table, carrying a large carafe of steaming coffee.

"Here you go! Coffee a la Neelix, with enough caffeine to stop the Kazon armada." He handed a cup to Ensign Kim, and poured it full to the brim. "Drink up, my friend, and give 'em hell today!" He paused to chuckle. "Give 'em hell," he repeated. "I learned that from Lieutenant Bklava. I don't exactly know what it means, but it sounds good!" With a cheery salute, he withdrew to serve the second wave of breakfast enthusiasts coming into the mess hall.

Kim took a sip of the coffee, nearly gagged, then forced himself to take another sip. "Whew! I don't know how the Captain drinks this stuff."

"It's an acquired taste, I'm sure," Tom said helpfully. "Especially when it comes from Neelix."

"Tom!" Harry said, but laughed along with him anyway. He swallowed a few more gulps of his Neelix-improved potion.

Tom grinned. "You know, if you didn't stay up all night, you wouldn't have to resort to measures like this."

"Tom," Harry said cheerfully, "shut up." Then he yawned again.

"Well, Mr. Separatist, don't say I didn't warn you." Suddenly he noticed how full the mess hall was getting with newly arriving crewmembers. "Hey, we better get going. We have duty in..." He glanced at the chronometer on the far wall. "Three minutes... Three minutes! Frak!"

"Three minutes!" Harry gulped.

"If we're late, Chakotay may give us more time for reading than even you would like!" Tom jumped out of his chair, bumping the table, sloshing the coffee over the rim of the cup and onto Harry's hand.

"Ouch!" Harry yelped as the hot liquid burned across the back of his hand. "Tom, that hurt!"

"Not as much as Chakotay's discipline will if we don't hurry! Come on, Harry!" Tom scrambled for the exit to the corridor.

"But I'm burned!" Harry insisted as he jumped up and ran after his friend.

"Deal with it later!" Tom said. "Make way, everybody! Coming through!" he called ahead as he and Harry dashed out of the mess hall and into the corridor. Personnel moved out of the way and the two officers barreled down the corridor. "Hold the lift!" he screamed before they could even see the turbolift.

"You know, I never had trouble with being late for anything until I met you," Harry panted.

"Well, I'm glad something good is rubbing off!" Tom answered, then dodged into a secondary corridor. "Shortcut!"

"Shortcut!?" Kim wheezed in stunned disbelief.

Suddenly Tom skidded to a halt right in front of Harry, then entered into a casual saunter. Harry slammed into Paris, knocking his hand against the wall. "Ow! Tom, I...."

Tom put a hand on Kim's uniformed arm in warning and stepped aside to make room in the corridor. "Captain," he said and nodded.

Harry's heart skipped at least three beats. "Uh... hello, Captain," Kim echoed, attempting to hide his burned hand behind his back.

Captain Janeway came into full view then from around the bend in the corridor. She glanced up, taking in the two panting officers, and eyed Kim even more closely.

Harry fought against a sudden, intense desire to blush, and succeeded.

"Good morning, gentlemen," she said. "First duty call?"

"Yes, ma'am," Paris answered stiffly. Harry didn't think he'd ever seen Lieutenant Paris stand up quite so straight before.

A tiny smile hovered around the corners of her lips. "By my calculations, you have about forty seconds to get to the Bridge. Better hurry," she suggested mildly.

"We're going, Captain," Kim said, and before he thought better of the action, waved at her with his burned hand.

Tom grabbed him, and they were off again, charging down the corridor. Finally the two darted into the nearest turbolift and Tom shouted, "Bridge!" as if his life depended on it.

Harry looked at Tom, his eyes glinting. "Shortcut?" he questioned sarcastically.

Tom had the decency to look chagrined. "How was I supposed to know the Captain would be coming down to the mess hall just then?"

Harry inspected his red hand and found a blister on his thumb. "If we live through this, remind me to kill you later," he said.

Tom's reply was cut off as the lift doors opened onto the Bridge. The calm scene was a sharp contrast to the mad dash through the corridors the two had just experienced, and it took Paris a second to adjust his heart rate to a slower pace. He glanced at Commander Chakotay on his way down the steps to his post at Conn.

Chakotay hadn't missed their entrance. He shifted in the Captain's chair to catch a look at Ensign Kim walking to the Ops controls. "Cutting it close, aren't you?" he said.

"Yes, sir," Kim answered, and Chakotay had the satisfaction of watching the young officer blush.

Blushing was the only reprimand Kim needed, Chakotay knew. And he was sure that Kim would give Tom Paris an earful later. If Tom knew what was good for him, he'd listen. Harry had a calming influence on the more roguish Lieutenant.

Chakotay returned to the data padd he had been examining prior to Kim and Paris bursting onto the Bridge, and Harry breathed a quiet sigh of relief. They had made it without a second to spare, but if the Commander was going to say more, he would have said it by now. Kim turned his attention to his post and tried to forget about his injured hand. He didn't dare ask to go to Sickbay now, with Chakotay irritated enough already. He would have to take care of it during break.

"Oh," Commander Chakotay suddenly said without glancing up, "Ensign Kim."

Kim looked up from his controls, feeling guilty before he could stop himself. He shot a look at Paris, but Tom's eyes were glued to his own controls. "Yes, Commander?" he answered.

"Captain Janeway requested that you visit Sickbay immediately. Something about your hand?"

Kim looked dumbly at his burned hand. It was beginning to throb again as every eye on the Bridge centered on it. "Yes, sir. I'll go right now." As he entered the lift, he saw Tom Paris wink at him. The minute the door swooshed shut and he had requested his destination, Kim muttered, "That's it. I'm just gonna kill him."

Chapter 2
Bridges

 She could still see it in her mind; Lieutenant Paris and Ensign Kim running full tilt down the corridor, late for morning Bridge duty. Janeway laughed quietly as she recalled the expression of pure horror on Harry Kim's face when she had rounded the bend in the corridor. It was one of those moments between Captain and crew that rarely happened on a Starfleet vessel, a moment where the Captain could clearly see exactly what a crewmember was thinking. And Harry Kim had obviously decided that his luck had run out.

She chuckled again, cradling her cheek in her left hand as she reached for the data padd she had been perusing before her thoughts had interrupted. Silence enveloped her ready room again, and she sighed sleepily. According to the status reports in her hand, the ship was running at 87% efficiency, probably the best they had managed since entering the Delta Quadrant. There were no problems with the engines, the warp drive, or the dilithium chamber. Sensors were in peak condition, and the crew seemed to be getting along at last. In fact, it was downright weird how well things were going.

However, she wasn't about to question Voyager's sudden good fortune. She was determined to enjoy the remainder of the day, starting with a leisurely lunch in the mess hall. She called up her afternoon's schedule one last time before leaving the Bridge. Scheduled at 1230 was a meeting between herself, Commander Chakotay, Ensign Saunders, and Crewman Marnissi. Janeway glanced at the chronometer - 1210.

Damn. She'd missed lunch again. As if on cue, her stomach grumbled in protest. She quickly ordered a tray to be sent up from the mess hall, and it arrived just before Commander Chakotay entered from the Bridge.

"Boosting those electrolyte levels again, eh, Captain?" he teased. Chakotay sat in one of the chairs fronting her desk, then pulled the other around to prop his booted feet on. Apparently she wasn't the only one taking advantage of the relaxed atmosphere on the ship.

Janeway leaned back in her own chair and chewed on a chicken or tuna sandwich, she couldn't tell which. She answered, "Neelix always bombards me with vitamins and iron supplements if I don't eat lunch. It's much easier just to eat than to fend off our morale officer. Besides, I'm hungry."

Chakotay grinned. "Stay away from those breaded things," he said and pointed to two long fried strips lying to one side of her plate. "They're just plain bitter."

Unable to resist trying one now that she'd been warned, the Captain gingerly took a small bite. She couldn't keep her face from tightening in sour disapproval. "Ugh! What is this stuff?"

The Commander shook his head. "I don't know. I'm not sure Neelix knows. Somebody probably requested it, but I think whoever it is is going to be mighty disappointed."

"I know I would be!" she exclaimed with a laugh. Janeway rose and crossed to the replicator. "Water," she ordered, then carried the glass of clear liquid that appeared back to her desk. But only after taking a long drink to wash away the taste of Neelix's latest creation.

"No coffee?" Chakotay asked curiously after she'd resumed her seat.

Janeway shook her head. "No, not after I saw what it did to Ensign Kim this morning." She laughed again, and the Commander joined her.

Still laughing, Chakotay said, "Imagine coming to Bridge duty with second degree burns! I thought I was going to have to drag Harry to Sickbay myself."

"I'm lucky I heard them running down the corridor in time to get out of their way or we might all have ended up in Sickbay!" Janeway continued to chuckle softly, thinking of Kim. "Isn't Harry Kim a wonderful person?" she asked with a delighted smile. "He takes his duties so seriously. If only everybody was as diligent as he is. He's a good influence on Tom Paris, I think."

Chakotay nodded. "I was thinking the same thing this morning. But I also think that Paris is good for Harry." At the Captain's inquisitive glance, he explained, "All work and no fun makes for a burned out officer."

"Tom is good at having fun," Janeway admitted. She looked once more at the clock on her computer screen. "Five more minutes to relax and eat before they get here. Do you know what this meeting is about?" She took another bite of her sandwich.

At the mention of the meeting, Chakotay lowered his boots to the floor and replaced his foot rest to its original position. A lounging First Officer was hardly considered Starfleet regulation, he thought to himself. He knew if the crew caught him lounging in the Captain's ready room, they would only assume that they too could lounge on duty. It was best to give a good example from the beginning rather than try to break crewmembers of bad habits. But sometimes he got very tired of always setting that first example.

"I have to admit I haven't got a clue. Marnissi just said she and Alex had something they wanted to discuss."

The door chime sounded and the Captain looked at Chakotay. "Guess we'll find out," she said with a hint of irony at the timing of the pair's arrival. "Come in," she called.

Maquis Crewman Ansel Marnissi entered first. As always, Janeway's gaze was drawn to the woman's neatly braided long black hair. The curled ends of the braid just grazed her waist, and not a strand escaped the simple twists. The Captain marveled at such deft braiding, one of the things she had mastered, but never quite perfected. Yet this petite woman made it look effortless and easy.

Marnissi nodded at both officers. "Captain. Commander."

Alex Saunders, a Starfleet Ensign originally assigned to Voyager's Stellar Cartography department, then reassigned to Security, towered over Marnissi. His blond head even rose above Chakotay when the Commander stood and offered his chair to the Ensign. "Thanks for meeting with us, Captain. We know how busy you are...."

Janeway motioned for the two to sit. "Not at all, Ensign." She pushed her tray of half-eaten lunch to the side and placed her elbows on her desk, clasping her fingers under her chin. "Please, what's on your mind?"

The two glanced at each other, then glanced at the Captain and the First Officer, who perched on the edge of Janeway's desk. Then suddenly Marnissi blurted, "Captain, we want to get married."

Janeway straightened up in surprise. For a moment she could think of nothing to say, other than stupidly repeating the crewman. Instead she turned to Chakotay. He was standing again, a stunned expression on his face. Just as suddenly, his face split into a wide grin that crinkled the skin around his eyes.

"Congratulations!" he boomed and reached down to enthusiastically shake both Saunder's and Marnissi's hands.

Janeway moved around her desk to do the same. "I admit, I'm surprised, though I probably shouldn't be! This is marvelous news!"

Saunders smiled back. "We hoped you would think so, but we weren't sure what you would say."

The Captain's smile faltered. "I've always supported relationships among the crew," she said.

Ansel shook her head. "We know that - everybody knows that. But we realize we're the first to try one of permanence, and that certainly breaks new ground on Voyager."

"That's true," Janeway acknowledged. "Voyager was never intended to carry families aboard."

"It was also never intended for 70 year missions," Chakotay pointed out.

Alex Saunders filled in, "But after Ensign Wildman had her baby, we decided to go ahead and ask your thoughts on the matter. We figured once the domestic aspect of this journey was crossed with a birth, a marriage would seem less controversial."

Captain Janeway crossed her arms and sat again on the edge of her desk. She pensively watched the two crewmembers. "I see you've both given this a lot of serious thought."

Chakotay resumed his seat on the opposite desk corner, and though he was still smiling, he nodded an agreement to Janeway's assessment. "This should definitely not be undertaken lightly. Of course, there's a logistical side to a marriage," he mentioned.

Ansel pulled her braid over her shoulder and played absently with the curled end. "I think I know what you mean, Commander, and we've already talked about it."

"Somebody please fill me in," Janeway requested, feeling confused.

Chakotay obliged. "Well, right now, Ansel lives with two other crewmen in the quarters on deck fourteen, and though Alex does have quarters to himself, they're hardly big enough for two people."

Ansel spoke up, "We're willing to live in Alex's current room for now if it's necessary. Though I can honestly say that I'm tired of living in a confined space. Small rooms have the tendency to encourage frequent squabbles."

"You sound as if you speak from experience," Janeway noted, and the woman nodded, rolling her eyes. "And I agree," the Captain went on. "A new alliance will be hard enough to encourage on a ship like this one, and insufficient quarters won't help."

"I've been going over some options about Ensign Wildman's situation," interjected Chakotay thoughtfully, "and her predicament is similar. As the baby grows, she'll need more room simply to keep the baby's things in. Tuvok and I have discussed doing some reconstruction to the multiple crew quarters on decks fourteen and fifteen, removing some bulkheads, installing new ones to create bigger, though fewer rooms. We plan to leave these open to families and couples as the need arises, and make the single quarters like Alex's into double or triple rooms. But those changes are a long way down the road, and not likely to happen overnight anyway."

"We could assign you to temporary quarters in one of the two reserved guest suites," Janeway suggested. "They don't have the computer links that crew quarters do, and you might find the storage for clothes and personal items to be a tight fit, but - well, I don't see as we have many other options."

Alex and Ansel exchanged a glance, and burst simultaneously into unexplained laughter. Alex said, "You're not going to believe this, Captain, but we already thought of that option. What will really makes the guest suites perfect is that Ansel is Maquis."

Janeway's brow furrowed. "And?" she prompted.

"I don't have any personal items," Ansel explained.

Janeway had to chuckle at that comment. "No, I don't suppose you do." She thought about the transient life-styles the Maquis must have led before coming to Voyager. Life as a fugitive left little time for collecting mementos, and even if she'd had something special, it would have been aboard Chakotay's vessel and subsequently destroyed during the battle for the array. But the non-Maquis personnel were in practically the same plight. "Even the Starfleet crewmembers don't have much in the way of materialistic goods," she continued. "You don't take many things with you for a three week mission."

Chakotay nodded in understanding. "I think Tuvok's the only person who hasn't openly complained about wanting items left behind. I know Kim misses his first clarinet."

"And I would like another set of civilian clothes," Janeway confessed with a wry smile.

"You and everybody else on board." Alex's comment was accompanied by a dramatic sigh and a disdainful pluck at his uniform that made them all laugh.

Janeway brought them back to the topic under discussion. "Commander, see to their transfer to one of the guest suites after the wedding," she ordered.

"Aye, Captain. My pleasure."

She nodded. "And that brings us to another matter. Have you given any thought to what kind of ceremony you want? Can Neelix get a hold of the proceedings, or is this something that needs to be a quiet affair with only a few people involved?"

Before they could answer, Chakotay mentioned, "You also might want to consider your individual cultures' special marriage rituals. Something of that nature can be very personal."

Janeway agreed. "The Commander's right. We want to help make this transition as easy as we can."

Crewman Marnissi rose to pace a few steps to the center of the room. She thoughtfully chewed on her thumbnail until Ensign Saunders gave her an encouraging nod of his head. As if coming to some important decision, Marnissi's head came up and she placed her hands squarely on her hips in a very Janewayesque pose.

Chakotay didn't miss the Captain's influence on Ansel. He knew that though the crewman didn't always agree with her, she admired the Captain a great deal and had often tried to use her as a sort of mentor from afar. He'd enjoyed watching this young rebel grow once she'd accustomed herself to a Starfleet existence. Like B'Elanna Torres, Ansel's extreme anger at the universe at large had diminished and she'd gained in authoritative control. She was a quick learner and an asset to Stellar Cartography, and he had talked with the Captain about her promotion to Ensign just last week.

Now she stood still and regarded her commanding officers out of determined eyes. "I wonder if either of you realize what mine and Alex's marriage will mean to the rest of the crew," she began.

"What do you mean?" Chakotay asked.

Her gaze traveled back and forth between Janeway and Chakotay. "I don't mean any disrespect by this, but a lot goes on among the crew that neither of you know about. There's still a great deal of dissent between the Maquis and the Starfleet."

Janeway's expression grew troubled. "I had thought that the problems were being ironed out."

"On the surface they are. Nobody wants to get in trouble," Ansel explained. "But, let's be realistic. We're all a little thickheaded about certain things, and there's a lot of diverse personalities on board. After all, I have Maquis branded across my forehead as well as on my collar, just as Alex is a Federation, Starfleet, by-the-book kind of guy." She shrugged. "Integrating has been hard, and the struggle is still going on. Our marriage will show that getting along isn't impossible, that both crews can respect each other while still retaining their differences."

"In short," Alex interrupted, "we hope to show these lugheads that we have to start acting like adults if we want to survive out here. Coming together and supporting each other is the only way we can make it home."

Janeway paused thoughtfully, letting their words sink in. Clearly these two had spent a lot of off-duty time discussing the state of the crew and their chances for success. "I couldn't have said it better myself. Maybe I should let you do my shipwide Captain's address next month," she suggested.

Ansel relaxed enough to laugh. "No thanks. I think I've already taxed my eloquence to the limit. But I do want to say one thing. This can't be a simple, quiet wedding. It has to be big, with everyone involved, or the significance will be diminished."

Alex chimed in, "And that's why we don't want any cultural or religious ceremonies or rituals that might exclude somebody. This has to be a uniquely Voyager ceremony. Not to mention one hell of a party!" He grinned and Ansel socked him affectionately on the shoulder.Chakotay expelled his breath and rubbed his temple with his index finger. "Well, I guess you have considered just about everything. I have to say I'm impressed."

Saunders smiled back. "We thought we better have most of the angles covered before we came in to this meeting."

Marnissi turned to Janeway. "We've decided that we want you to perform the ceremony, Captain."

In spite of Janeway's admiration for the couple's thoroughness, she hesitated. "Before I can agree to this, I have to be absolutely clear on a few basic things." Her somber tone put an instant halt to the building excitement.

She motioned him to be patient, then continued. "You wanted me to have a good understanding of what this marriage will mean for the crew, and I appreciate your insights. Now, I want you to understand what this marriage will mean for you." She paused again to collect her thoughts. Carefully she said, "Marriage is a most serious commitment. I know it can bring great joy, but there are so many changes in store for you. Transferring quarters is only one of them. You will have to live together, work together, make decisions and overcome problems together. There is no half way in a successful union between two people, especially ones from such different backgrounds and ideals as the two of you."

"We're aware of all that, Captain," Marnissi quietly insisted.

"Good. Because you'll need to be aware of the colossal risk you're taking. Do you realize how uncomfortable your lives can be if this marriage doesn't work out?"

"Neither of us plan to run out, if that's what you mean, Captain," Saunders stated in contained yet unmistakable anger.

The Captain clasped her hands and stared at Saunders and Marnissi intently. "Most of us have relatives and family members who have divorced or run out, as you say. And I'm not passing any judgments on their decisions. The only problem is with our situation. There's nowhere to run. If in the event of a mutual dissolvance of your marriage, will you be able to work together as useful members of this crew without allowing your personal feelings to interfere?"

"In other words, do you promise not to assassinate each other in the corridors?" Chakotay cut in dryly.

Janeway glanced at him in irritation, but her First Officer's comment must have struck the right chord. The tension left the air as Ansel quirked a smile at Chakotay.

"Chakotay, I had forgotten about your dry sense of humor. Now that you're not my Captain, I think I actually miss it." She shook her head, then looked at Janeway. "But let me put your worries to rest with a brief story, Captain. When I first came aboard this Starfleet vessel, I hated it. I hated the stuffy, self-righteous crew. I hated the rules that Lieutenant Tuvok insisted I follow. And yes, I even hated you, Captain. But I did my job alongside those very things I despised, because I knew I had to if I wanted to make it on this ship. I met Alex, the notorious prig of Stellar Cartography. Then things started to change." She glanced at Alex Saunders and allowed a soft smile before returning her gaze to Janeway. "I've changed since then. We've all had to adapt to some degree. And I really like the differences in myself. Best of all, I love Alex. The future may be rough and uncertain, and I don't suppose a marriage will make everything turn suddenly rosy, but I'm more than willing to give it a chance."

In the silence that followed that treatise, Janeway fancied she could detect four individual heartbeats. She took a deep, cleansing breath to clear her mind and turned to Saunders. "Ensign?" she asked simply.

Saunders leaned forward in his chair, his hands clenched in tight fists. "If you want me to swear an oath not to harm Ansel in case of eventual divorce, I'll do it. If you want me to sign a written oath, I'll sign it. I'll do anything that will convince you that all I want is to marry Ansel. I've never been more sure about anything in my entire life," he ended passionately.

Janeway's eyebrows lifted to her hair. The breath she'd been holding hissed quietly through her teeth. "Well, I believe I've heard everything I need to hear." She glanced at the Commander to ascertain his opinion. He was wide-eyed and could only nod in her direction. She understood his sense of being overwhelmed by all the well developed, emotional arguments. She was only too happy to disregard her misgivings and let her features dissolve into a large smile. "I would be honored and pleased to perform your wedding ceremony," she promised.

Ansel Marnissi covered her mouth with her hands, and for a moment the Captain thought she was crying, but it quickly became evident that she was laughing. The crewman rushed forward and threw her arms around the astonished Janeway.

"Oh, thank you, Captain! I knew we could convince you!" Then she moved over to hug her former Maquis Captain. "Thank you, Chakotay!"

In contrast, Alex Saunders was unmoving in his chair. As yet he hadn't said a word. His hands were still clasped tightly together between his knees and his head dangled heavily from his neck. For all the others knew, he might be unconscious.

Janeway moved uncertainly to his chair. She gently touched him on the shoulder. "Ensign?"

Ensign Saunders lifted his head to show the tears on his cheeks. "Sorry. I'm just so relieved...."

Ansel sat on the arm of Alex's chair and rubbed him on his back. She grinned at Janeway and Chakotay. "You'd never know it, but Alex is a very emotional person. Much more than I am."

"You haven't changed that much, Marnissi," Chakotay said. "I'll be sure to avoid you when you have your first disagreement." Suddenly they were all laughing again.

"Thank you, Captain Janeway," Saunders said sincerely. He took her hand and clasped it tightly. "This means a lot to both of us."

"To all of us," Janeway corrected.

Ansel's grin grew even wider. "I feel like celebrating. Or at least like telling everybody!"

Chakotay spoke. "I suggest we let Neelix announce it."

"That's a good idea!" the Captain enthused.

Alex nodded, his tears forgotten. "He's certainly capable of getting everybody hyped up for it."

"Why don't you go see him in the mess hall now, discuss the details and set a convenient time. Whatever you decide is fine with me. Is more than fine with me, in fact!" Janeway laughed again, giving in to the couple's infectious excitement.

Ensign Saunders stood and grabbed the crewman's hand. "Thank you again, Captain, Commander."

Ansel smiled. "Come on!" she insisted, then nearly dragged him out of the ready room without waiting for a proper dismissal. The Captain didn't even notice.

It was like the aftermath of a fierce storm. Janeway sighed in the relative quiet after their departure. She crossed her arms and regarded her grinning First Officer. "You look very pleased, Chakotay."

"I am. I've never seen Ansel Marnissi this happy about anything. Being part of this crew has done a lot of good things for her." He tried to rub the grin from his face with the back of his hand, but failed. If anything, his smile grew wider. "And besides, I can't help feeling awfully good about this. It's almost more exciting than Wildman's baby!"

"Voyager's first wedding." Janeway shook her head in amazement. "I'm much happier about it than I thought I would be. But at the same time I'm afraid to even consider the consequences," she admitted.

Chakotay seemed to understand. "We've come to one of this crew's major bridges. Crossing it will be a big challenge."

Janeway thoughtfully lifted her eyes to meet the Commander's gaze. Slowly she said, "Somehow, I think I just made one of the most important decisions I'll ever make in this quadrant."

Chakotay laid a hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze of support. "It was the right one," he said.

"I know."

Chapter 3
On Strike 

Neelix grinned again at the tiny camera resting serenely on the table in front of him. "Wasn't that a wonderful story, folks?" he said rhetorically, not expecting an answer from a camera. "I'd like to thank Lieutenant Hargrove for being a guest on my show and for sharing the thrilling adventures of Winnie the Pooh." He paused to stare quizzically at the Lieutenant. "What is a pooh, anyway? Is it some form of exotic animal life?"

Hargrove's own satisfied smile began to dissolve under the Talaxian's questions. "Well, I... I guess he's a... a... it's rather hard to explain."

Neelix nodded in understanding and patted the man on his knee. "Never mind. Next time, bring a picture." He returned his attention to the camera. "And that's all the time we have today, folks. A few reminders now: a message from Ensign Samantha Wildman - if you have signed up to help raise the first baby in Voyager history - and what a cute baby she is! - Please take another look at the baby-sitting schedule she and I worked out last week. You don't want to miss your token hour with the cutest child on the ship. And don't forget about that upcoming wedding! Lieutenant Saunders and Ensign Marnissi are as excited about the event as we are, but not much more excited! So keep that date and time free. You don't want to miss this - what a party it's going to be! But more about that later. And congratulations to Ensign Marnissi and Lieutenant Pktash on their promotions! I'll keep you in touch with any more news as it comes my way. For now, that's another exciting installment of Briefing With Neelix. Until next time, see you around the ship!"

Neelix clicked off the camera and grinned at Lieutenant Hargrove. "Thank you, Lieutenant. That was a very entertaining story."

Hargrove smiled back. "I have more."

"Excellent!" Neelix beamed. "I'll let you know when I have another opening for my show. But now I have to see to lunch. Excuse me." He rose and hurried into his kitchen, grabbing his brightly colored apron and tying it on as he went. He figured he had just enough time to heat up the leftover roast garnished with leola sauce and make more gracken bread before the lunch rush began. It was fortunate that he had enough leftovers; he'd been so busy lately that he hadn't had much time to plan or prepare new and interesting meals. Just the night before he'd stayed up well into the morning hours, talking with Saunders and Marnissi about their wedding. Though they had accomplished a lot and managed to settle several mild disagreements about the post-wedding party, he was too tired to care much about fixing something new for lunch.

The roast was heating nicely in the oven and the leola sauce was coming to a slow, even simmer just as the first of the lunch crowd appeared. The bread, however, was far from edible, so Neelix quickly grabbed some of the breakfast cakes he'd made out of grain from the aeroponics bay. He knew if he arranged them becomingly on the pretty flowered plate he'd found in storage, few of the crew would realize they were recycled from the last meal only hours earlier. He grinned at his own cleverness.

He was in the kitchen's back regions, carefully checking the bread that was rising on a warm heating unit when an irritated call interrupted his concentration.

"Neelix!" the voice boomed across the mess hall.

The Talaxian jerked in response to the shout and unwittingly poked a finger into the puff of bread dough. The slight bulge of the dough over the pan disappeared instantly, taking with it the thirty minutes of work that had gone into preparing it.

"Argh!" Neelix said under his breath, but dutifully grabbed a towel and hurried to the serving counter. Tim Rollins stood on the other side, looking highly incensed.

"Neelix, what is this?" Rollins asked the minute the cook came into view. He was holding one of the cakes aloft in his hand.

Neelix glanced at it in distraction, his mind still on his bread. "Well, it's a breakfast cake," he announced.

Tim gave the man another irate scowl. "I know that. But we had them for breakfast. That's when you're supposed to eat them - that's why they're called breakfast cakes."

Apparently the flowered plate and aesthetic arrangement wasn't doing what he thought it would. Neelix's expression changed to one of equal irritation. "Is that all you want, Lieutenant? To complain about the food?"

"Food?" Tim laughed sarcastically. "Is that what you call it? My uncle's livestock gets better food than we do."

Neelix's eyes narrowed. "For your information, Lieutenant Rollins, I was in the process of making a delicious batch of gracken bread when you so rudely interrupted and ruined the recipe. Now, if you think the food is so bad, you can just hop over to the replicator and get whatever you want. But don't bother me about it!" he roared.

Rollins took a step back, surprised by the anger in the usually cheerful Talaxian. "Okay, okay. Don't loose your shirt over it. Sorry about the bread." He turned away, but Neelix still heard him mutter to himself. "Geez, make one simple comment...."

His fists clenched tightly at his sides, Neelix returned to his bread to see if he could salvage any of it. But he'd barely had enough time to look at it before another crewmember interrupted him. This time it was Ensign Wildman.

"Neelix?" She had hesitantly entered the kitchen area to talk to him at his bread counter.

Neelix smiled as much as he was able under the circumstances. "What can I do for you, Ensign?"

Wildman looked around, puzzled. "I thought we were having macaroni and cheese for lunch today. You promised."

Memory of that promise suddenly lit up Neelix's face. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Ensign! Of course, how could I have forgotten? I just got so busy after we talked yesterday, and then the wedding plans got hold of me...."

Wildman smiled. "It's all right, Neelix. I'm just still craving things. I can't seem to stop myself, but I want...cheese." Her eyes grew a bit wider as she spoke. "I was up every two hours last night with the baby, and each time I had to order something with cheese in it from the replicator. Now I'm all out of rations for the week," she continued, her voice changing from its typical complacent timbre to one of growing desperation.

"I understand completely, Ensign Wildman. And I apologize most sincerely for my blunder." He pulled the woman across the kitchen with him. "Here, will this do for now? It's a hunk of the fabricated cheese I was planning to use for your lunch today."

Wildman took the hunk of light yellow cheese, her face distorted into an odd look of disappointed longing. "It's better if it's melted," she complained under her breath. But then she tightened her fist around the food. "Thank you, Neelix, this will be fine." She broke off a piece and ate it right there.

"Good! Now, how is that baby girl doing?"

"Fussy." Wildman shook her head, now looking tired. "I'll be glad when her teeth finally come in. But then I don't know what I'll feed her."

Neelix patted her on the shoulder as he ushered her out of his kitchen. "Oh, don't worry. The doctor and I are already thinking about solutions to that problem. We'll have her fixed up before she's even ready for it!"

"Thank you, Neelix," she said, clutching her cheese.

"No problem!" he insisted, though his thoughts were running along different lines. His enthusiasm lasted only long enough to get the Ensign back into the mess hall so he could return to his bread.

But then Kes came in with Tom Paris and Harry Kim. They were all laughing loudly at something Ensign Kim had just said. They seemed to be having such a good time that Neelix couldn't stop the sudden negative feelings that engulfed him. There was Kes, his special friend, having fun with other people while he was stuck in the kitchen, cooking, listening to complaining crewmembers, and apologizing for not remembering 150 different eating preferences. He felt put upon at the least, and just as abruptly, left out.

Tom Paris chose that moment to jokingly comment, "Hey, Neelix, got any coffee?" Tom smirked at Harry and elbowed his friend in the ribs.

Neelix was beyond simple irritation now. Suddenly it all bombarded him at once. At this rate, he would never get his bread baked; he never had time to spend with Kes anymore due to his numerous duties, and all he could do was watch while others enjoyed her company. None of the crew ever appreciated his efforts, and most rarely even acknowledged him unless it was to complain about something he did or didn't do. The experience with Rollins and the breakfast cakes was just one of many similar incidents. Now Tom Paris was harping on yet another minor detail, undermining his authority in his own kitchen, and in front of Kes. Neelix decided he'd had enough.

"That's it," the Talaxian said with a sense of finality. He started taking off his apron.

Tom watched him for a moment, frozen in surprise. Finally he said, "What is?"

Neelix folded the apron neatly and laid it on the counter. "I've had it. The kitchen is closed. You'll have to get your lunch yourselves." He waved a hand in the direction of the leola sauce.

Harry Kim glanced at Kes and Paris before hurrying to explain. "No, it was a joke at my expense, Neelix. Tom didn't mean anything by it."

Neelix nodded. "Oh, I know that."

Kes moved forward, a furrow marring her brow. "Then what is it, Neelix? Do you need help in the kitchen? I'll be happy to help out this afternoon. I'm sure the doctor can spare me for a few hours."

Neelix shook his head, then came around the serving counter to stand beside her. "No, that's not it." He paused, then slowly continued. "I just think that I spend an awful lot of time in this kitchen, making sure the crew gets the proper nourishment to stay healthy and fit, and all I get in return is insults and an extreme lack of respect."

Kes sighed and the furrow disappeared. She seemed relieved that the problem was what she considered a relatively small one. All she had to do was convince Neelix of that. "That's not true, Neelix. The crew appreciates you a great deal."

"Yeah," Tom echoed persuasively, thinking that if Neelix closed the kitchen, he would never be able to get by on just his replicator rations.

Kes continued, "And you're very involved with the wedding plans. Alex just told me yesterday that he couldn't do all this without your help.

Neelix had to concede this point. "True, I am a great help with planning a wedding." Still he shook his head. "However, Lieutenant Saunder's comment, as nice as it is, does not make up for months of mistreatment. I have decided that I won't work with these conditions any longer. As of this minute, I'm on strike." And he folded his hands across his stomach, a sure sign that he considered a subject closed.

But Kes persisted. "Neelix, don't you think you're overreacting?" she asked, smiling indulgently.

Neelix thoughtfully regarded the three crewmembers. Finally he shook his head. "No, I don't feel that I'm overreacting at all. When a worker is treated poorly, taken advantage of, and abused, then I believe that some form of action is appropriate. Rather than screaming at the entire crew at the top of my lungs, something which I doubt the Captain would appreciate, I'm going on strike. Let them cook for themselves a while - see how much fun it's not." He stepped back, then grinned his disarming grin. "As for me, I'm going to the holodeck. I haven't had the chance to try out that new program of yours, Tom, and I've been waiting for a month for just the right moment. See you later!"

Neelix left the mess hall with a slight bounce and a light step. His attitude was downright jovial, in fact.

Kes looked at Tom. Tom looked back. They both turned to Harry.

Kim said, "Does this mean what I think it means?"

Tom nodded, an unhappy frown on his lips. "Yeah. No dinner."

Kim grimaced. "So, who gets to tell the Captain?" 

* * * 

Captain Janeway heard the turbolift doors open behind her and she turned around quickly to see who had arrived on the Bridge. A look of slight disappointment crossed her face when Harry Kim stepped off the lift, just returning from his lunch break.

She returned her attention to the sensors report that Lieutenant Tuvok was currently torturing her with. She valued the Vulcan's thoroughness in his reports, but she sometimes wondered if he wasn't more meticulous than necessary.

Tuvok glanced at her questioningly, but continued. "The long range scanners underwent a complete diagnostic yesterday between the hours of eleven hundred and thirteen thirty. Four minor malfunctions were detected; none of which impaired the scanners. They were: a deteriorating fuse on conduit sixty-three, a minute rupture on the array dish, a blocked -"

The turbolift door opened again, and Janeway couldn't stop herself from looking expectantly around to see who it was.

Tom Paris sauntered off the lift, glanced once at Harry, then shifted his gaze around the Bridge. He was a bit taken aback when he found the Captain watching him. He was so surprised, he blurted, "Hello, Captain!"

Equally as displeased at being caught staring, she could think of nothing quickly enough to ask him that might not be conceived as a cover for her behavior. So she just nodded and gave him a slight smile. "How is lunch today? Anything interesting going on in the mess hall?"

Tom gave Harry another sidelong glance, but only said, "Oh, you could say that, Captain. You know Neelix - he always has something up his sleeve." Tom crossed to his station and began an update on the ship's status, thankful to have an excuse not to look at his Captain.

Janeway let a decidedly unprofessional sigh escape her lips, then turned back to Tuvok and his report.

But the Lieutenant did not continue immediately. "Captain, you seem preoccupied. I can only assume that you have something on your mind that does not relate to the sensors."

Janeway was forced to admit her distraction. "You're very perceptive, Mr. Tuvok, but please, don't take it personally."

Commander Chakotay piped up from his place on the command level, "She's next on the baby-sitting list." His grin split his features from ear to ear.

She eyed her First Officer, amused at his teasing. "I missed my turn two days ago when the warp coils needed realigned," she explained. "I don't want to miss out again."

Tuvok's eyebrow rose a notch. "I was not aware that you had volunteered to take care of Ensign Wildman's baby."

Janeway quirked a wry half smile. "If it's up to this ship, I may never get my chance. I just wish it was longer than an hour at a time. It's been many years since I've had the opportunity to care for a baby."

Tuvok nodded sagely. "I too find myself looking forward to spending time with the infant."

Tom Paris couldn't resist commenting on this. "You, Tuvok?"

Tuvok peered inquiringly at Paris. "Yes. Is there a problem, Lieutenant?"

Tom shrugged. "I guess I just can't see you in a paternal role. No offense intended."

Tuvok nodded. "None taken, Lieutenant. But I remind you that I have four children of my own. The youngest was well beyond the need for continuous attention when I left with the Maquis. It will be..." Tuvok paused, searching for the right word, "...nice to again help instruct a fairly young child." He looked at Paris from his elevated perch at Tactical. "I take it you do not feel the same."

Tom snorted. "Looking after a squirmy little kid is not my idea of a good way to spend a free hour."

Chakotay chuckled perversely. "And don't forget about the diapers, Paris."

"Diapers!" Paris wrinkled his nose at the suggestion.

As if on cue, the turbolift door slid open. This time there was no doubt - the baby had arrived.

Lusty screams echoed across the Bridge. Tom Paris wanted to dive for cover, but he settled for discreetly covering his ears.

A very distracted Ensign Partlow marched over to the Captain. "Here, she's all yours. Thank the prophets." With a heavy sigh, Partlow handed the baby over to Captain Janeway's willing arms, then dropped the Starfleet duffel bag he was carrying to the carpeted floor. "There's all her things, diapers, clothes, stuff in bottles. I don't even know what all that stuff is for. I'm sure my parents never carried this much truck around when I was little," he said. He vigorously rubbed his shoulders, as if the strain of holding a baby was too much for him.

Odd, thought Janeway, eyeing the Ensign's muscular build. She almost didn't stop her smile before it erupted across her face. "Very good, Ensign. I think I can take it from here. You're dismissed."

Partlow moved into the lift, then turned once more. "Oh, her diaper might need changing."

Tuvok's eyebrows were now in a line equal to his hair. "That is obvious, Ensign, by the smell." But the lift doors shut, and Partlow did not hear Tuvok's comment.

A loud groan issued from the direction of the Conn.

Janeway grinned down at the wailing baby. "There, it's all right. He's gone. That nasty old Ensign who can't change a diaper is gone. Sh." She wiped a line of drool away from the baby's chin with the corner of the new blanket she was wrapped in. But it was apparent that Ensign Wildman's baby was not going to be comforted until she had a dry diaper on her little bottom. The Captain situated the girl more securely in the crook of her arm, then bent to pick up the duffel bag.

"Commander," she said, "you have the Bridge. I'll be in my ready room."

"Aye, Captain," Chakotay acknowledged.

"And what of the sensor report?" Tuvok asked, making the Captain pause in her escape.

"Later," she promised.

"Enjoy yourself, Captain," Paris called helpfully after her.

"I intend to, Mr. Paris." Janeway smiled to herself as the door slid shut on the Bridge, blocking the baby's wails from the other officers.

"Nope," Mr. Paris said a moment later. "You won't catch me doing that." The baby's cries were muted, but every officer on the Bridge was aware of each breath she took.

Tuvok sighed and glanced towards the ready room. "At this moment, I tend to concur, Mr. Paris."

Captain Janeway, on the other hand, was having the time of her life. She had changed the baby's diaper, and was now wiping a smudge of vomit off the shoulder of her uniform. Her desk was not much cleaner than her uniform, since she had chosen that spot as a temporary changing table. But she reveled in the mess. Though Voyager made a rotten nursery, and Janeway would have hesitated to admit it to anybody, she had secretly looked forward to the birth of this baby as much as its mother. Just the thrill of holding a baby again made up for much of their wandering bleakly through uncharted and dangerous space.

Yet Kathryn Janeway was keenly aware of what this baby represented. Like the approaching wedding between Marnissi and Saunders, Wildman's baby was a symbol of Voyager's future, proof that they could get by without the help of Starfleet and the backing of the Federation. As Marnissi had said, they could survive if they managed to stick together. Survival would eventually entail a complete, separate society of humanoid lifeforms in the Delta Quadrant, a unique USS Voyager civilization. Samantha Wildman's tiny baby girl was the start of it all. And it was at this moment, when an undistracted Janeway held the writhing infant in her arms, that the full realizations revealed themselves to her.

This was a new life, one whose experiences would wholly center around her ship, her policies, and her ideals. Starfleet ideals. For, by growing up on board a starship, and Janeway didn't see any alternative to that eventuality, the baby would know nothing except Starfleet rules and regulations. They would become the guiding influences in her life.

In visualizing this, Janeway suddenly became aware how stark an existence of pure Starfleet could be. For the typical Starfleet officer, a life of rules and regulations was tempered by shore leave, planet-bound family members, and other ties to various homeworlds. But for this baby, and any baby that might follow, there was no relief unless they made it back to the Alpha Quadrant. And though reaching home may be a relief to their parents, being displaced suddenly on an alien planet could hardly be a comfort to a child raised in space.

With such a severe existence so clear in her imagination, Janeway felt a revulsion for that kind of unrelenting life that was equally as strong. And for a brief, terrifying moment, she found herself considering alternatives to Starfleet.

The girl squirmed suddenly, distracting the Captain from her disquieting thoughts. Janeway smiled tenderly at this baby who was bound for greatness as the first born of the ship's next generation. Oblivious to the distinction bestowed on her at birth, the baby yawned and blinked sleepily up at Janeway.

Content now that the baby was quieter, the Captain settled down on her ready room couch and propped her feet on the clear table in front of her. She placed the baby on top of her legs, letting herself sway back and forth to further lull the child.

Age old methods work even in the Delta Quadrant, she mused as the little girl began to gurgle with her fist stuck in her mouth. The Captain ran a finger gently down the baby's cheek and straightened a wrinkle in her dress. She marveled at the smooth skin and tiny hands and feet. Such a little thing to have caused so much trouble to her mother during birth. Janeway gingerly touched the three distinctly Kataren ridges rising in a vertical line from the tiny forehead, then began to play with the two perfectly shaped feet. She was determined to forget about responsibilities for awhile and simply cherish the little time she had with this newest member of the Voyager crew.

But only a few moments later her door chime sounded. Janeway cheerfully called out, "You can come in, but you can't have her yet."

Kes entered, a smile on her elfish face when she set eyes on the baby.

"Kes! Come in." Janeway was always delighted to talk to Kes. "Take a look at her. She's growing."

Kes sat next to the Captain and let the baby grab one of her fingers. "Yes, she's several inches longer now than at birth."

"Isn't it amazing how fast they grow?" Janeway asked with a wide smile. "She'll be needing new clothes before we know it."

"And she'll be eating real food very soon. The doctor expects her to start teething any day." Kes sat, absorbed in the small life resting on the Captain's legs.

A moment of silence passed unnoticed. But finally the Captain felt obliged to return to business. "So, is this a simple visit or is there something I can do for you?" she asked the Ocampan.

Kes sighed and her expression immediately became sober. "Have you read Neelix's latest report?"

Janeway frowned. "No. Why?"

Kes just suggested, "I think it would be a good idea if you read it."

Still frowning, Captain Janeway rose and crossed to her desk, carefully holding the baby against her shoulder. She called up the proper file and swiftly started reading. Then she blurted, "On strike?"

Kes nodded. "I've been with him since lunch, trying to talk to him. I thought maybe I could convince him to change his mind. But he's so determined."

"Did you have any luck?"

"No. If he were yelling and waving his utensils around, I might have a better chance. But he's so calm."

Janeway's frown deepened. "That's odd."

Kes nodded, her expression worried. "I'm beginning to believe that he's been playing with the idea for several days."

"What's he doing now?"

"The last time I saw him, he was running through the computer's music library, helping Lieutenant Torres catalog the Klingon selections."

"Really?" Janeway was surprised at this. She'd had no idea that either crewmember had any leaning towards Klingon music. In fact, she wasn't aware that Neelix and B'Elanna got along well enough to attempt such a shared venture. She suddenly felt uncomfortably uninformed.

"They were discussing the possibility of using some of the pieces for the wedding," she explained. As Kes spoke, Captain Janeway watched her expression begin to mirror that of a lost sheep, begging for help.

Janeway sighed and tried to look away. She could feel herself responding to the young woman's large dark eyes and imploring expression. She simply couldn't resist Kes when she looked like that. "I'll talk to him," she said, knowing that she was relinquishing the rest of her hour with the baby. But for Kathryn Janeway, her crew came first, even when babies were concerned.

Kes' face lit up at that news. "Thank you, Captain. I'll feel much better if you talk to him."

"Perhaps we can solve whatever problem has come up." The Captain planted a quick kiss on the baby's fingertips, then headed for the Bridge, the duffel bag slung over her shoulder.

She found Chakotay standing near the Conn and walked briskly towards him. "Status," she commanded, more as a reflex than any fear that something drastic had happened in her absence.

Chakotay tried not to laugh at the humorous sight of the Captain barking orders as usual while delicately holding a baby against her shoulder. He managed to check his emotions, but would probably never forget the juxtaposition Janeway suddenly represented. "No problems reported, Captain," he dutifully responded.

"Fine. You have the Bridge, Commander, and the baby. I'll be in conference with Neelix until further notice."

Chakotay had already read Neelix's strike statement and wasn't surprised at the turn of events. He only had to catch the glance that passed from Ensign Kim to Tom Paris and size up the situation. But he let himself teasingly say, "Had enough already?"

"Don't gloat," she warned as she passed the baby to her First Officer. She caught a last glance of Chakotay grinning and rubbing noses with the little girl just before the lift doors shut out the Bridge. 

* * * 

"I can't believe you like this stuff!" yelled B'Elanna Torres over the rumbling noise of Klingon music that Neelix had pouring out of his quarter's sound system.

Neelix grinned. B'Elanna grimaced.

"But this is your culture, Lieutenant!" Neelix hollered back enthusiastically. "Just listen to that beat! Don't you think it would be perfect for the wedding party?"

Torres slapped her hands over her ears. "Only if you want Marnissi to murder you later that night!"

The Talaxian physically scooted back a foot at that prediction. "Well, no, I don't want that!" he yelled. "Perhaps something a little - "

"Neelix!"

Both Neelix and B'Elanna jumped. They turned in the direction of the new voice.

Captain Janeway stood in the open door, and the best part, which is to say the loudest part, of the Rhapsody to Praxis boomed unheeded down the corridor of deck eight. Janeway slowly looked around her, too stunned to do much more than stare.

The quarters assigned to Neelix resembled more a trash heap for the refuse of the galaxy than the serviceable starship quarters one might expect to find. Spare parts of every conceivable kind lay scattered in any available space - on the table, the chairs, the bed. A few power boards were stacked in the closet, which would no longer close properly, and cables and wires covered every inch of empty space left. Janeway wondered how B'Elanna and Neelix had found an uncluttered place to sit.

After the first shock of the Captain's visit passed, Neelix jumped up and manually stopped the computer. The noise instantly vanished, and they stood for another moment, allowing their ears to adjust to the ringing silence.

"Sorry, Captain," Neelix apologized quickly. "I didn't hear the door chime."

"That's obvious," Janeway muttered and entered the cabin the rest of the way. The door closed behind her.

"We were just going over some music," B'Elanna said, then mentally kicked herself for making such an idiotic statement. The Captain was surely aware of their activity. By now, all of deck eight had an idea of what they were doing.

But Janeway refrained to comment. When she didn't explain her visit, but instead continued to look around in astonishment, B'Elanna and Neelix joined her in a perusal of the room.

Neelix blurted, "Oh, I'm so sorry about the mess, Captain! This is only temporary, of course. I plan to move all this to storage at the first available opportunity."

"Good," she stated shortly.

He quickly began clearing stacks of data padds off a chair, then motioned her to it. "Please sit down, Captain. Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you, Neelix. This isn't a social call." She turned to B'Elanna, who seemed rooted to her spot on the floor. "Do you mind, Lieutenant? I need to talk over some business with Neelix."

Torres climbed to her feet and dusted off her pants. "Uh, no, I'll go. I'll - uh - see you around, Neelix." She headed for the door.

"Just take my advice, Lieutenant, and try listening to The Jumble Collection. That one has words to it. I think you'll really like it!" Neelix called after her departing form, and Torres nodded, then escaped into the corridor. Neelix turned to the Captain. "Wonderful stuff, that Klingon music! What a solid beat!"

"So I heard," Janeway said as she seated herself on the chair Neelix had cleared for her. She crossed her legs, then pensively regarded her volunteer cook and morale officer. She began without preamble. "Neelix, what's this about you going on strike?"

Neelix cleared off a second chair and sat before answering her. His expression grew serious. "I made a report this afternoon - "

"I read the report. It was... very thorough." She leaned forward, taking the edge off the official aura she employed while in conference with a crewmember, and openly beseeched Neelix. "Neelix, please - is something wrong? Are you having problems with specific crewmembers or the crew as a whole? Is being Voyager's cook so awful that you can't...."

Horrified, Neelix swiftly interrupted. "Of course not, Captain! I never wanted to give the impression that I regret my move to Voyager! I love this ship as much as my own, and I love being your cook!"

Janeway nodded. "I'm gratified to hear that." She glanced at him, watched him hesitate. "But?" she prompted.

Neelix grimaced. Finally he said, "Do you want to hear the story from the beginning?"

Thinking of Tuvok's reports, Janeway wanted to ask for the brief version, but she only said, "Please."

Neelix launched on a list of grievances. Minor though each incident appeared while spotlighted, being lumped together in one major complaint gave them a weight that would have depressed even the happiest of people. And Neelix was getting more depressed by the minute.

Finally he cut himself off. "Well, you get the idea. This afternoon's occurrences were just examples of any typical day. For some reason, I just couldn't take it anymore." He shrugged. "I'm very sorry if I inconvenienced anyone, but I decided that striking might have more impact than simply losing my temper."

"I would agree. And there are times that being an inconvenience is a good thing."

Puzzled, Neelix shook his head, making his loose hair dance over his shoulders. "Uh, Captain, I don't think I understand."

Janeway smiled. "From what it sounds like, this crew, without exception, has gravely taken advantage of you, Neelix.

"Oh, now Captain, I wouldn't go that far...."

"I would. You have supplied us with three decent meals every day for years, and I wonder how many people have given their thanks."

"Not many."

"I'm not surprised. And I apologize on account of all of us. You have been more help to us than you realize. In fact, I'm just beginning to realize it myself. Things should never have been allowed to escalate to this point." She sat for a moment in silence, turning over solutions to this dilemma. "The question is, what should we do about it?"

As the silence lengthened, Neelix began to loose his nerve. He squirmed in his chair, clasped his hands, then unclasped them. At last he said, "Captain, maybe going on strike isn't such a good idea after all. I mean, I don't want to cause any problems. I mean, you're probably busy...."

"What would you say to a vacation?"

Neelix squinched his eyes and pursed his lips. "A what?"

Janeway brightened at the idea. "A vacation," she repeated. "You're very busy right now planning the wedding, developing your show, seeing to the crew's general morale - it's no wonder you decided you'd had enough."

Neelix grunted. "Hmm. I never thought of it that way."

"You don't want to wear yourself out, Neelix. If you collapsed from exhaustion, where would the crew be then?"

Neelix paused, trying to grasp her unspoken meaning. "So you're saying I should take a vacation for the sake of the crew?" This was a novel idea, one that Neelix had never considered. The concept that he needed to take care of himself so that he could capably take care of the crew was nothing less than a revelation. "Captain! You're right!" he gasped.

She nodded. "Yes, I know."

"I just never looked at it that way!"

"It's amazing what a little change in perspective can do."

"Why, when can I start this vacation? How long does one last? What should I do? Do I have to -"

Janeway held up her hands to stop the bombardment of questions she could practically see poised on the Talaxian's lips. "I think a break from the kitchen would be a good idea. Just until the wedding is over, and you feel rested."

"Rested," Neelix echoed, as if he had no concept of that notion either.

"Does that sound fair?"

"Fair? Oh, yes, yes, very fair. But, what about the kitchen? Who's going to cook?"

Janeway settled back in her chair and steepled her fingers against her chin. She slyly glanced at Neelix. "Who do you think would benefit most from the first kitchen detail?"

Understanding at just what the Captain was suggesting dawned on Neelix. Slowly a grin spread across the Talaxian's freckled face. "Why, how about... Lieutenant Rollins."

Chapter 4
Tete-a-tete 

Commander Chakotay's voice rang clearly over the shipwide intercom. "All hands: decks fourteen and fifteen, sections ten through thirty will be closed today from 1500 to 1600 for scheduled corridor cleaning. Please observe. There will be no admittance to the specified areas except by cleaning crew. In addition, waste recycling is scheduled for tomorrow at 0900. If you have anything extra that could be useful for recycling, please leave it in a covered container and prepared for transport to the waste bin. Chakotay out."

Tom Paris wrinkled his nose. "Waste recycling. It's hard to believe that a Federation vessel would ever need to stoop to such a level." His voice was tinged with heavy reproach.

B'Elanna Torres grinned at him from across the table in the mess hall. "What's wrong, Paris? Don't like the idea of using your feces to fertilize your food?"

Tom's grimace twisted into a much deeper look of disgust. "B'Elanna! Please, I'm trying to eat." As if to prove his words, he took a big mouthful of the mashed potatoes on his plate. His love for potatoes was known all over the ship, and this particular plate was his second helping of the day. "I don't see why we just don't dump all our waste into space like they do in the Alpha Quadrant," he continued, speaking around the food in his mouth.

Torres' eyebrows rose. "So you'd rather have your feces spread across a Kazon ship's scanner array?

Tom grinned. "Now there's an idea! Anything's got to be better than using them the way we do."

B'Elanna rolled her eyes. "It's a good thing you grew up where you did."

Tom eyed her carefully, his eating utensil stilled on his plate. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Voyager is not the first environment in the universe bent on reusing everything," she explained patiently. "Even on the colony where I grew up, there was no room for queasy stomachs. We used what we had, and that included putting our own manure on the fields and gardens and saving everything, even the humanoid's dead skin cells, for recycling."

Tom's face paled. "You saved dead skin?"

B'Elanna grinned, thoroughly enjoying herself at the Lieutenant's expense. "It's amazing how many uses it has."

"You're kidding. Right?"

B'Elanna shook her head. "I'm serious. That's why I suggested to Chakotay that we do the same thing here."

"What?" Tom's fork fell from his fingers to the plate. "That's disgusting! How could Chakotay do that?"

"Tom, in a gravity based environment, skin cells fall off all humanoid lifeforms. I thought you were smart enough to know that." She cagily studied her hands, which she held up for inspection until she saw the sick curl of Tom's lip. "Why do you think Chakotay is so adamant about the corridor cleanings? Either we suck all those dead cells up and dump them in the aeroponics bay, or we let them pile up in the corridors and walk through them for the next 70 years. Which do you prefer?"

"I prefer neither." Tom looked in renewed revulsion at the remaining food on his plate. "I suppose all this recycling includes that baby's diapers?" he asked, not really sure if he wanted to know the answer.

Going in for the final play, Torres leaned across the table towards him and whispered, "Yes, especially the green ones."

A strange gurgling sound exploded from Paris and he covered his mouth. "I'll be in Sickbay - I think I'm going to be sick!"

B'Elanna's gleeful laugh followed Tom Paris as he rushed suddenly for the door and disappeared into the corridor.

Chapter 5
Nature Versus Nurture 

Chakotay set the data padd onto the wide arm at the right of his command chair, then activated the computer situated between his and the Captain's stations. He reviewed the scrolling data one last time, then, satisfied, clicked the computer off and lowered the screen. The improved recycling plans were going well, and for that he was glad. He felt it was his duty to see that the crew recognized the importance of reusing everything on hand, and it appeared that they were taking his many recent sermons on the subject to heart. The bottom line of the situation was they didn't have enough supplies to warrant throwing any away. Besides, he hated to see anything go to waste.

He glanced around the room, noting the routine of the crewmembers on duty. A relaxed atmosphere pervaded the Bridge, giving Chakotay a feeling of ease and control. At times like this, when things were quiet and everybody was working smoothly together, he had a distinct understanding of the role he filled in that orderly discipline that was intrinsically Starfleet. And he admitted to himself that he liked that feeling of belonging. It was something he had spent much of his life searching for.

He sighed. Unconsciously he raised his fingers to rub at the tattoo imprinted over his left eyebrow as he watched the crew go about their responsibilities. When he realized what he was doing, he pulled his hand away and stared at the tips of his fingers. Then he chuckled to himself. Occasionally he still entertained the idea that the design was going to rub off on his fingers, leaving them stained with ink. That, of course, would never happen. The tattoo was permanent, a constant reminder to himself of his father and that man's battle to save his age old way of life. His Indianness, Chakotay had always called it.

What a dumb word, he thought with a sudden frown. But at the time, it was the only word the younger, uneducated Chakotay could give to his father's strong sense of heritage. It was a link he'd often referred to with a mix of scorn and distrust, and he had gone to great lengths to avoid any tie to such an association himself. In fact, the avoidance had eventually brought him to Starfleet and the life he now led; a life of endless duties, repetition, and an existence in space.

How can you breath up there in those cramped spaceships? his father had asked him during each visit home after his commission from the Academy. Chakotay always fought the urge to retort that he could breath just fine. Even in his rebellious struggle, he had a hard time being openly disrespectful of his father. It was difficult, Chakotay thought, to respect his father while scorning the culture he represented and protected. It had frequently left him feeling confused and uncomfortable after those rare visits home. Uncomfortable, he decided, because though he tried, he couldn't completely deny the same culture in himself. Even while he threw himself into the career of a Starfleet officer and all but ignored his biological family, that attraction was there, waiting to grab him when he least expected it.

Now there was nothing to cause further frustration. Chakotay's father was dead, and he was thousands of light years away from the heritage that he had spent the first part of his life disowning. So he wondered why he still experienced that familiar pull to honor his father and his people.

Chakotay shook his head, letting the motion distill his thoughts. It was all too big for him to think about for very long at any one time. He had managed to stem his thoughts this time before the occasional feelings of despair overwhelmed him.

But, no, it wasn't despair, he ruminated, unable to stop himself from pursuing the subject. It was more often guilt. The truth was he didn't know much about his own people. He had trouble keeping a clear concept of their ceremonies, and he had little understanding of their language. And now that he had no way to seek out that lost knowledge, it bothered him. The computer could tell him only so much. The rest he had to piece together from buried memories and instinct.

Which led to another dilemma. Was that instinct he often relied on a genetic part of his tribe, his heritage, and hence a part of him? Or was it just the best guess of a guy stuck far from home and searching long distance for his origins? Is that why he had started observing the tribe's traditions and ceremonies? To attempt an understanding of something he may never completely grasp?

That struggle for understanding was what the tattoo represented, he suspected, though that hadn't been his original reason for having it burned into his skin. At first he thought if he wore the sign of his ancestors, it would show that he had accepted his responsibility to his people. He told everybody, including himself, that the design honored his father and his fight, but Chakotay wondered about that now. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he used it as a sort of penance, a way to purge his feelings of guilt for not being there when his father had most needed him.

"Commander?"

Chakotay looked up quickly, torn from his meditations. Ensign Kim had spoken to him. "Yes, Ensign, what is it?"

A relieved expression passed across Kim's face, causing Chakotay to speculate that perhaps Harry had had to make several attempts to get his attention. He silently scolded himself for his mental lapse on the Bridge even as Kim said, "Sensors are picking up a plasma storm 900,000 kilometers ahead of us, directly in our flight path."

Tuvok grunted from his position at Tactical. Although Tuvok would never consider it grunting, the Commander reminded himself. "I too am picking up the storm, Commander," Tuvok reported. "It is extremely dense and charged with polaron particles. I suggest we change course to avoid any contact with it."

Chakotay smiled. He wondered what Tuvok would do if he decided not to take his suggestions. He'd probably say that I am not being logical. "By all means, change course, Lieutenant Paris," he said aloud.

Paris readily complied. "Aye, sir. Changing course to zero four five mark six."

"That should keep us well away from the storm," Chakotay approved. "Carry on."

He watched Paris skillfully manipulate the helm controls. The ship moved slightly to port in response to the Lieutenant's commands. The motion was so smooth that only those on the Bridge, who knew of the order, would even be aware of it. But Chakotay could feel the change in engine vibrations through the soles of his boots and knew he would sense the course change even if he'd been sitting in his office several decks down. He'd practiced a great deal before he could feel such changes in a ship's operation with any success. But many years in space had given him the opportunities necessary to perfect the discipline the awareness required.

If only I had paid as much attention to the tribal traditions as I did to vibrations, he gently chided himself. But he had never been interested in the ancient ways of his people. Ships and space travel had always been far more fascinating to him. If only his father had accepted that! It still pained Chakotay that he and his father had never come to an understanding of each other's gifts. Space filled Chakotay's soul just as the tribe filled his father's. The fact that his father refused to honor his chosen path influenced Chakotay to forsake the tribe in return. Both father and son had believed that he could be part of the tribe or part of space, but not part of both. And now?

Was it possible to be Indian and not Indian, Chakotay asked himself. Probably as possible as it was to be of Starfleet and not of Starfleet. He knew he was both, a knowledge his father had never quite managed to grasp. Since coming to the Delta Quadrant, he had attempted to maintain a balance between the two halves of himself. Now that there were no outside forces, no Maquis fight calling to him and no Starfleet regulations interfering, he could concentrate on being who he was rather than what others thought he should be. Some days he had better luck than others.

His attention diverted from his thoughts as Captain Janeway seated herself in the chair next to his. He was so lost in thought that his head jerked up in surprise; he hadn't even heard the door to her ready room open and close. Since she had spent the morning reviewing duty schedules, he'd had plenty of time to indulge in his own meditations. But now he didn't want to appear lax in front of the Captain. Chakotay forced his attention back to his neglected duties. He watched Janeway give a cursory scan of the Bridge personnel, and he let his eyes join hers in wandering from station to station.

The Commander took it all in, making himself observe everything as a small price to pay for his recent lack of concentration: Tuvok at Tactical, B'Elanna's empty Engineering station, Paris at the helm, Kim at Ops, the two Ensigns currently assigned to the science station at port and the three other science crewmembers manning the various stations aft of the command level, then back to Janeway.

She was staring at him appraisingly. "Commander, is something wrong?" she inquired.

"No," he quickly assured her. "Everything is running smoothly and we have no negative reports of any kind."

She smiled, a slight lift of the corner of her mouth. "Yes, it's almost too quiet. I appreciate it, but it makes me suspicious at the same time. I think I'd rather know what the rest of the quadrant is up to." Chakotay nodded and smiled back. She looked at him more closely, then continued, "But I wasn't referring to the ship's status. You look -" she hesitated, "...disturbed."

Figures. One day he might learn that he couldn't slip anything passed Janeway. "I was just -" He paused to look at her, the words to confess his thoughts on the tip of his tongue. But... "- just thinking," he merely answered with a secret, sad sigh.

She heard the sigh, and a brief flicker of hurt crossed her face before she composed her features into a more acceptable mask of polite interest. "Very well," was all she answered.

Chakotay hated to see that look in her eyes. She thinks I don't trust her, he thought. Nothing was farther from the truth, but he wasn't sure he was ready to share his thoughts with anybody just yet. He took a deep breath and calmly asked, "When I get it all figured out, would you like to hear about it?"

Her features lightened and she smiled softly at him. "Yes, I'd like that."

Chapter 6
It's Not A Date 

"Oh, Torres, Torres," chided Tom Paris genially. "Where is your mind tonight?"

"What?" B'Elanna shook her head, then stared at the cards laid out on the engineering console in her office. Tom smugly settled the seven of clubs alongside her run of the seven of spades, hearts, and diamonds, then promptly discarded his last card, winning the final hand of their present game of rummy.

"Gotcha!" Tom laughed and rubbed his palms together. "So, what do you say to another game, eh? You up for that, Harry?"

Harry Kim reluctantly handed his remaining cards over to Tom, who gathered the cards together and shuffled them like a gambling pro. "Sure. I love being slaughtered over and over again," Kim said sarcastically, but he waited while Tom showed off his hidden talents. Amazed, Harry continued, "Are you sure you haven't worked at one of the Alpha Quadrant's gambling resorts, Tom? You're just too good with a deck of cards."

Tom shook his head. "Of course not, Harry. I've told you that before. My knack for cards is just that - a knack." He glanced up to see his friend's dubious stare. "Now would I lie to you?"

Harry's eyebrow went up threateningly. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

Tom had the decency to look chagrined. Apparently Harry still hadn't quite forgiven him for his latest proposed shortcut while en route to the Bridge. He thought it best to change the subject. "So, what's on your mind tonight, B'Elanna? I haven't seen you play this bad since we taught you the game."

"Yeah," Harry chimed in, thoughts of Tom's truthfulness forgotten. "I can't believe you let him get that card. You could have won."

B'Elanna lowered her head until her forehead was resting on the palms of her hands. For a moment she just sat like that in agonized silence, then she pounded her palms into her forehead. "Argh!" she grunted.

Tom and Harry looked at each other, both men distressed at her sudden strange behavior. Harry reached out to grab one of Torres' hands before she had the chance to do damage to herself. "It's just a game, B'Elanna!"

"That's not it!" she muttered through clenched teeth.

"Well, whatever it is, it can't be that bad," he insisted.

Torres ran a free hand through her thick black hair, and laughed harshly. "It's worse, Harry, trust me."

The Klingon's calm unsettled Tom more than her rages ever did. But he was never one to back down from a confrontation. "Care to enlighten us?" he asked lightly, hiding his concerns. He laid the cards aside and leaned his elbow on the console to show that he was listening. "Come on, let's have it - we'll let you know how bad it is."

Torres paused in her agony to scrutinize first Kim, then Paris, until they both felt like a lab experiment gone wrong. "Okay," she acquiesced at last. "But you have to promise not to breath a single word to anybody. Got that? Anybody!"

"Or what?" Tom asked nervously.

Torres leaned forward to stare him in the eye. "I'll rip your lungs out your feet," she promised.

Harry's brows rose and he shook his head ingratiatingly. "That convinces me. You have my promise."

Tom could only nod, as his tongue was frozen by the vibrant image that B'Elanna's words evoked in his brain.

B'Elanna leaned back, relaxing once again. "All right." She paused to collect her thoughts, her fingernails cutting tense marks into her palms. "It was yesterday. We were running those photon torpedo tests -"

"I remember," Kim piped up. "You couldn't quite get the right levels of borite atoms to -"

"I was there, Harry. I know what happened," Torres interrupted impatiently.

Kim blinked. "Oh, right. Sorry. Just trying to help."

"Well don't," she said bluntly, then continued. "Anyway, Lieutenant Hargrove was also there, doing something with the communications array."

Tom interrupted this time. "Yeah, wasn't he on your team, Harry?"

Kim nodded. "He's great with comm. problems. I always request him when we have to deal with the array." He turned to Torres. "Did you have some trouble with him?"

B'Elanna stood up and glared at the two men, her fists balled on her hips. "Are you two finished with your chit chat so I can get on with my story? Hargrove was there, that's what's important." She turned a quick circle, then abruptly fell into her chair again.

Tom nodded helpfully. "Hargrove was there. Gotcha."

"He talked to me," Torres accused.

There was a brief pause as Tom and Harry digested this information.

Unable to uncover B'Elanna's dilemma from her words, Harry hazarded to say, "So? Talking's not a crime."

B'Elanna slapped her knee in irritation. "It's not that he talked to me, Harry. It's what he said."

"So what did he say?" Tom asked impatiently.

Torres took a deep breath, screwing up her courage to blurt out, "He asked me to go with him to Harry's concert next week."

Another moment of silence passed, then Tom burst out laughing. "Is that all?" he gasped. "The way you're carrying on, you'd think he'd threatened to murder you!"

"Or at least offer you food from the mess hall," Harry added as he fought a loosing battle against his own laughter.

Tom slapped Harry's shoulder. "Oh boy, did you get a load of that stuff we had for dinner? What was that, anyway?" He shook his head weakly, still laughing. "I can't wait for Neelix to get off his vacation so we can have something decent to eat!"

Harry grinned and slapped Tom back. "I can't believe I just heard you say that!"

"I can't believe I said it either, but it's the truth!"

"Hey!" Torres cut into their mirth with a terse yell. "Cut it out! This has nothing to do with food!"

Harry sobered right away, and Tom at least made a visible effort to control his laughter. Paris choked, "You're right. It's not funny at all. I mean, Lieutenant Hargrove can be a killer conversationalist." More laughter spluttered from his lips before he could stop it.

Torres threw up her hands. "That's it. I knew I shouldn't have told you. You have the sensibilities of a rat, Tom Paris!" She stood up to leave them to their hilarity.

"Wait." Harry stopped her with a hand on her arm. "I'm not laughing, and neither is Tom." He kicked Tom in the knee. The laughter stopped immediately. "Now sit down, B'Elanna, and tell us what's wrong."

Torres sullenly sat. She pushed her hair out of her eyes, then took another calming breath. "Well, I guess that's it. He asked me out."

"To my concert," Harry added.

"Yes."

Tom shook his head. "He has good taste in chosen activities, you have to admit that," he said, and eyed Harry cheerfully. The Ensign rolled his eyes, unimpressed. Tom sighed, and returned his attention to Lieutenant Torres' problem. "But I don't get it, Torres. What's so bad about that?"

B'Elanna suddenly buried her head in her arms. "This is terrible! This is worse than the Kazon and the Vidiians and the recycling and the Delta Quadrant all put together!"

Tom glanced at Harry, who just shrugged helplessly. Tom awkwardly patted Torres on the back. He felt funny giving such a sympathetic gesture to the half Klingon. Torres usually scorned such emotions. But now she hardly seemed to notice. "Why don't you tell us exactly what he said," he suggested.

The muffled words floated up through B'Elanna's arms, "He said, 'Lieutenant, you going to Kim's concert on Wednesday?' It came so suddenly that all I could do was stare at him and look like a complete idiot. Then he said, 'You wanna go with me?' And that's when the borite test failed again. I told him I'd have to talk to him later." Finished, she lifted her head and self-consciously shook her hair back.

"That's it?" Harry asked.

She nodded. "That's it."

"I don't see what's so awful about that," Tom stated.

"But he asked me out!" B'Elanna said, horrified.

"So?" Tom held up a finger to stop the angry outburst he could see brewing behind her eyes. "Wait. Let me get something straight - don't you date?"

Torres stared at him in disbelief. "Tom, I can't date anybody!"

This time it was Harry who laughed. "Why not?"

"Because... because...." A whirl of thoughts bombarded B'Elanna's mind - her position in the crew, her secretly harbored feelings for certain members of that crew, her belief that a human would prove an unacceptable companion to a person of such a volatile species combination - but she spoke of none of these things. Instead she ground her teeth in a decidedly Klingon fashion and groaned. "I just can't! I don't want to date anybody!"

"Did you tell him that?"

Naturally it was Harry the peacemaker whose question cut through the turmoil about to erupt in the seething Torres. Her emotions once more surprised into calmness, she admitted, "No, I haven't had a chance yet."

"Well, do it," Harry ordered. "There's nothing more demeaning to a man than to leave him hanging."

"Wondering what you're thinking, if you like him, if you don't, what's going to happen - it's terrible," Tom assured her. "You think you've got it bad. How do you think he feels? I mean, Hargrove isn't exactly the most daring of men on this ship."

B'Elanna shrugged. "I hadn't thought of that. He is sort of - shy, isn't he?"

"Shy?" Harry snorted. "He may be a good storyteller, but shy is an understatement. I think he's so good with communications equipment because he's so bad at actually communicating himself."

"So the question is," continued Tom, "how to tell him. You're sure you don't want to go with him to the concert?"

"No!" Torres said emphatically. "Not with Hargrove. Not with anybody."

"I know. Just skip the concert," Harry suggested, then he grimaced. "It may not be that good anyway. I haven't given a concert since I entered the Academy."

"Shut up, Harry," Torres said in fond impatience. "I wouldn't miss your debut concert for anything. But if I say no to Hargrove, then I can't go at all. He'll feel bad if he sees me sitting there. I'll feel bad if I see him sitting there. We'll both be miserable."

Harry sighed at that argument. "I'd ask you to go with me - after all, I'm a pretty safe date, what with already having a girlfriend and all - but it's my concert. It would be pretty awkward trying to pay attention to you and play at the same time. I might miss one of my trills."

"And we wouldn't want that," she teased.

Tom shrugged. "Why not come with me?"

"With you?" Torres sounded as horrified with that proposition as she did with her current date dilemma.

"Why not?" Tom asked, hurt by her tone of voice. "I've been known as a good date to some of the lucky women on the ship...."

"What women? I'm not sure they'd consider themselves so lucky," she retorted. "And what's wrong, Tom? Don't you already have a date? Is the Voyager Casanova loosing his special zing?"

Tom actually blushed, but rather than give a report on his recent slip in conquests, he said, "Okay, if you must know, I'm going with Kes and Neelix. You could just join the crowd. You don't have to have a date at all. Nothing could be safer than that."

Harry concurred. "You could tell Hargrove you already have plans to go with friends. He can't be too hurt by that."

Torres crossed her arms as she considered this possibility. It might work, and it would certainly solve her problem. She didn't have any aversions to attending the event of the week with Tom, Kes, and Neelix. Unless Neelix started on one of his expertise kicks... "I don't know," she hedged, annoyed with herself for being unable to make a decision. "I guess I'll have to think about it," she conceded at last.

"I'm sure Kes and Neelix won't mind, if that's what's bothering you," Tom assured her.

B'Elanna sighed loudly and slouched in exhaustion in her chair. "I had no idea that something like a date could cause so much trouble. I mean, Harry, how did you ever have the energy to chase after Libby?"

Harry smiled, always happy to talk a few minutes about his love. "Actually, she chased after me."

Torres dismissed his explanation with a wave. "Whatever. It just doesn't seem worth it to me."

Tom couldn't stop himself from smirking. "Oh, it's worth it all right. You just have to meet the right one." Torres glared at him, and he practically swallowed his smirk.

"It's all this wedding talk," Kim decided. "I think I'll be glad when the big event is over. I've seen more couples coming out of the bulkheads this last week than in the entire time we've been here." He joined Torres' attitude with a tired slouch of his own.

"Yeah. It does sort of make a guy - well, either more lonely, or in Hargrove's case at least, more courageous." The card game completely forgotten now, Tom leaned back against the console to stare contemplatively up at the ceiling. "First a baby, now a wedding - Yep, the good old days of get-to-know-ya on Voyager are definitely over," he lamented dramatically.

The three officers sat quietly, each staring at the ceiling, lost in their own private thoughts. The only sound to break the meditative silence was the rhythmic thumping of the chief engineer's boot against the base of her console. Each thump rang hollowly in the tiny office.

Finally Kim broke the silence. "I can't stand this. Paris, if you don't deal a new game, I'm going to start missing Libby and feeling sorry for myself."

B'Elanna patted Harry reassuringly on his shoulder. "Do you miss her a lot, Harry?" she asked sympathetically.

Harry shrugged and sighed. "Yes. No. I don't know. Not so much, I guess," he said, and heaved another sigh.

Paris grinned as he dealt out a new game. "I know - you could date Hargrove. I'm sure Libby would understand."

Harry gave Paris an irritated look. Torres burst out laughing. "Go ahead, Harry. That would solve all our problems!"

Someday, Harry thought, Paris will go too far, and then...POW! "Just deal," Kim ordered tersely.

Tom dealt the cards and giggled intermittently. "My friends, the game is poker. Five card stud. Draw at your own risk. The Hargrove card is wild. Very wild." More laughter erupted in the tiny office. Tom waggled his eyebrows. "Beware Hargrove!" he intoned, then collapsed into a new fit of giggles, along with B'Elanna. And this time Harry joined in.

Chapter 7
Mind Tango 

"Kes, you are not concentrating."

"I'm sorry, Tuvok. I know that when you lean back and steeple your fingers like that, it's not working. But I am trying."

"No doubt. By the amount of tension showing on your face, I must speculate that perhaps you are trying too hard."

"Is that the problem, then? Can I be sabotaging my own efforts by wanting to read everybody's thoughts too badly?"

"Kes, I wish to explain something. The ability to reach out to others minds, to hear their thoughts, is an ability you already possess. You do not have to want it; it is yours. I have felt this talent in you many times, and you have successfully channeled it in the past. Today seems to be different."

"Am I doing something wrong? Not preparing properly?"

"I do not believe the problem lies with your preparations, or with your talent. This process is unique to each individual, so there is no right or wrong way to proceed."

"But, Tuvok...."

"I can only conclude that you are impeding yourself."

"Myself? But why would I do that?"

"That is exactly what we need to uncover."

"How do we do that?"

"First, I must ask a few questions. They may seem personal, even unusual, but please answer them as honestly as you can."

"All right."

"Is there anything currently occurring in your life that might cause you confusion or discord?"

"Well... Neelix was talking about wanting my help to rearrange the kitchen after the wedding, and the doctor is also thinking of modifying some aspects of Sickbay. My duties may change after the reorganization."

"Two rather significant changes."

"Could that be it?"

"Possibly. Is there anything else? The more information we have to consider, the better our success will be."

"I can't think of - "

"Rule out nothing. Have you been eating properly, sleeping, working more or less than usual - "

"Sleeping. I haven't slept well lately."

"Do you know the reason? Kes, please remember that anything you tell me will remain in the strictest confidence."

"Oh, Tuvok, I know that. It's not that at all. It's...."

"Please go on."

"I'm not sure what it is, Tuvok. I dream at night. All the time, but when I wake up, I can't remember anything about the dreams except... except a song. No. Maybe it's just a melody, repeating over and over and over.... That's it! Tuvok! The song from my dreams - I heard that same song just now, when I was trying to sort through the thoughts of the crew."

"Excellent. Now that we have...."

"Oh."

"You've thought of something else?"

"Yes. I think I might recognize the song."

"You sound as if that is distasteful. Does this tune harbor a painful memory for you?"

"No, not a memory. Just.... I don't want to admit it, but I can't help it. It makes me angry."

"Angry? An unusual reaction. How -"

"It makes a great deal of sense, now that I understand. Let me explain. My quarters are close to Harry's."

"Ensign Kim?"

"We're neighbors. But I've never had problems with Harry before. He's polite, understanding, always a gentleman."

"You seem to hold the Ensign in high regard."

"Oh, I do."

"Then I confess that I do not understand. If you like Ensign Kim, why does living next to him make you angry?"

"It's... nothing. It's so small. I'm sure that it will sound extremely petty."

"I remind you that we are not all alike. What is a minor annoyance to some can be a major complication for others."

"All right. You see, he's practicing for his concert, and I know that in order for him to sound as accomplished as he is, he has to play the same song again and again, practice the notes exactly as he wants to play them at the concert. He let me listen to a recording of the piece I heard tonight; it's a difficult song. I often hear him play through it, both during the day and at night. And it's driving me crazy!"

"I see. You are hearing this song often enough that your subconscious is even bringing it out in your dreams."

"It's awful! I wake up humming it, I sing it during the day, then I dream about it! It never goes away! Tuvok, what can I do about this?"

"Have you tried talking to the Ensign? Perhaps he is willing to forgo practicing during the times you are in your quarters."

"I can't ask him to do that! His concert is only a few days away, and if he plays poorly because of me, I will never be able to forgive myself."

"Have you tried adjusting your schedule around his?"

"Yes. But I never know when he'll have a spare moment to practice."

"That can be unpredictable. Perhaps you could sleep elsewhere?"

"Well, I suppose I could sleep in Sickbay, at least until the concert is over. But wait, the doctor is in the habit of doing a great deal of his modifying during the night rotation - he says there are fewer people awake to bother him."

"Then that would not be a viable option. Perhaps you could stay with Mr. Neelix?"

"Neelix is up half the night, planning for the wedding. He says he's more creative when there are fewer people awake to -"

"...to bother him. Yes. I begin to understand your difficulty in this situation."

"Do you have any suggestions, Tuvok? I'm getting desperate."

"Short of changing your quarters, I am...."

"You stopped. What is it?"

"Something you mentioned a moment ago. You heard Ensign Kim's song while listening to the crew."

"Yes. Harry must have been thinking about it."

"It is the same song?"

"Yes."

"How well do you know this song?"

"I don't know the title, but I would recognize it anywhere. I've heard recordings of it, and Harry plays it at least every other day, more often now that his concert is getting closer."

"Hmm. I am curious, Kes - does the Ensign play it the same way each time he repeats it?"

"I'm not sure. I think so. Why?"

"Patience. I will explain myself when I feel I have enough information. When you hear the song in your dreams, is it exactly the same as when the Ensign plays it?"

"I don't know. I think so."

"Try to be certain."

"I... I guess I'm not sure. What difference does it make?"

"I can't say at this time. As of now, I have only a theory. But one simple task will help in proving it. You must try to contact Ensign Kim's thoughts, listen to the song again. Will you try?"

"Of course, if you think it will help."

"I do. Let us begin. Close your eyes. See nothing with your eyes. You must ignore that which can distract and interfere with your mind. Your mind is a clear space. See it, feel it, know that it is yours. Is your mind empty, Kes?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now, move beyond yourself. Hear the beings around you."

"I can hear them. I'm starting to separate them now."

"Excellent. Listen for -"

"I can hear him! He's singing along with his clarinet... it's amazing! His mind is at least two notes ahead of his fingers."

"Intriguing."

"He missed that trill! And the next run. He should have played a sharp instead of a 'c' natural. Now he's starting over, but he's still singing the middle section. He missed the trill again. And the sharp, but he's continuing this time. Why doesn't he stop and fix it?"

"I admit I do not know. But I thank you for your attempt. I believe you have given more depth to my theory, if not proven it altogether."

"What do you mean?"

"Though you thought you were hearing the same song, in reality you are hearing two different songs: the song that Harry wants to play, and the song that he is playing. There is no way that you would have known of the specific mistakes he is making if you did not already know the correct version of the song."

"So what you're saying is he knows the song correctly in his mind, which is what I'm hearing now, but he's playing it wrong, and that's what I hear when he practices."

"Exactly. It is not a surprise that you were so distressed."

"Oh, Tuvok, I'm so relieved! I was beginning to worry that it was Harry that I didn't like anymore, when it's actually just his playing."

"Or rather, his practicing."

"What do we do now? We know the problem, but not how to fix it."

"I suggest that we have an immediate conference with Mr. Kim."

"You mean tell him what we've discovered."

"You would both undoubtedly be greatly relieved by the encounter."

"I know I would be!"

"Then there is no point in delaying the meeting. Are you game, as the Captain would say?"

"Absolutely. Anything to get this stupid song out of my head. And Tuvok...."

"Yes."

"Thank you."

Chapter 8
Random Acts of Mild Flirtation 

Captain Janeway turned from the food laden reception table and the crowd around it to offer Ensign Kim her hand.

"Harry, that was a wonderful concert! I had no idea you played so well," she said with a sincere smile.

Harry Kim beamed. He shook her hand energetically. "Thank you, Captain. I've been practicing hard.

"It certainly shows. I'm amazed you chose the Academy over a career in music, but I admit I'm glad you did. Hearing you was like hearing a piece of home.

The minute she said it, she wished she hadn't. She had a strict policy of not making any references to the Alpha Quadrant or how much she might miss it while talking to any crewmember. It made little sense to continually remind the crew of their plight by referring to home and their individual losses at every opportunity. Now, without even a thought, she had violated her own rule. And Harry Kim had as many reasons for wanting to return home as any member of the crew; she suspected that he missed his fiancé‚ a great deal. She flinched, expecting to see a look of loss and hurt steal over his features.

But to her surprise, the comment did little more than bring a tiny, humorous smile to the Ensign's lips. Then he said, "That was the basic idea, Captain. I'm glad that it came across so well." But he frowned. "I hope it doesn't upset anybody too much."

Janeway glanced around at the high-spirited, laughing crowd. "Oh, I wouldn't worry too much about that," she hinted dryly. "Everybody seems to be enjoying themselves." Her eyes were drawn to B'Elanna Torres and Tom Paris as they emerged from around the far end of the table. She had noticed that the two had come to the concert together, along with Kes and Neelix. To judge by all the smothered laughing and nudging the two had indulged in between songs and during the intermission, they were certainly having a keen time. The Captain moved a step to the side to make room for them as they joined her and Harry.

"Good concert, Harry!" Tom Paris boomed his appreciation, making Janeway blink at the sudden and close noise. "Especially that jazz number. What a song!"

Harry didn't look surprised that Paris chose to single out that particular piece, but he did send a quick, knowledgeable glance at Captain Janeway. "I played that one just for you, Tom. I knew you'd like it." In fact, it had suited Tom's personality so well that Harry had secretly dubbed it "Tom's song" during his practice sessions. But he chose not to inflate the Lieutenant's ego further by relating that information.

B'Elanna grunted in amusement. "You must have known what it would do to him, Harry. He got so excited I thought sure he was going to jump up and start dancing." She grabbed a small meat roll from a plate on the table and took a large bite. "I was prepared to restrain him if I had to."

Tom looked hurt, but instinct told Janeway that the expression was all part of Paris' flirtation. She knew his actions were more like a game to Tom than anything serious. Yet, when did Tom start flirting with B'Elanna Torres?

"Oh, come on, B'Elanna. Admit it - you would love to dance with me," cooed Paris.

Torres glared at him. "Only in your worst nightmares, Paris," she growled menacingly.

The wounded look disappeared, and Tom laughed. He abandoned his cat and mouse game and turned back to Harry. Torres made a face at the back of his head, but he ignored her. "Seriously, Harry, I want a copy of that song for Sandrine's. I think the crew would really go for that. It would be perfect."

Kim's gaze flicked back and forth between Torres and Paris, clearly wondering what Tom was up to. Yet he only said, "I'll see what I can do," before a second wave of congratulatory crewmembers carried him away.

Tom glanced at B'Elanna's irritated expression and chuckled again. "Ease up, B'Elanna, I was only kidding," he explained.

But B'Elanna was hardly mollified. She looked appraisingly at the piece of meat roll she still held, then she looked at Tom. "Remember the wild cards," she said cryptically. She started to walk away, but turned back and regarded him with calculating eyes. "And Paris," she patiently warned, "don't ever try to flirt with me again." Then she stuffed the food into his mouth as an added incentive to her warning. He coughed and spluttered, covering his mouth with his hand, effectively silenced at last. B'Elanna calmly turned and walked away.

Janeway bit the inside of her cheek to hold back her own laughter. Despite the fact that she felt Tom probably deserved Torres' particularly inventive retaliation, she knew that having the Captain laugh at him would only make it worse. So she crossed her arms and forced herself to turn slightly so that he wouldn't see her smile.

Commander Chakotay sauntered over, his hands clasped leisurely behind his back. "Paris, your date's getting away," he informed and pointed to where Torres was heading with Kes and Neelix towards the door.

"Date!" Tom exclaimed after he had managed to spit the remaining meat roll into a convenient napkin. "She's no date of mine!" He tossed the bundle of food on to the tabletop.

"You can recycle that," Chakotay pointed out after Tom's negligent gesture.

Tom sighed. "Recycling, babies, weddings - it's all getting to be too much! Now B'Elanna treats me like some kind of meatball receptacle. If I'd known that this trip would turn into this psycho adventure, I would have...." He stopped himself, remembering at the last minute who he was talking to.

Janeway eyed him balefully. "You'd what, Tom? Change your mind?" she prodded.

Tom hesitated, thoughtfully rubbing his sore mouth. What would he have done? Was sitting at the penal colony better than wandering around the Delta Quadrant, taking abuse from a crazed Maquis engineer? He shook his head. "No. No, my answer would have been the same, even if I'd known what would happen. My friends are here, aboard Voyager." He didn't miss Chakotay raising his eyebrows in surprise. "But I think I'll stay away from B'Elanna Torres for awhile. Maybe after this night I'll even swear off women altogether," he said as an afterthought and grimaced. Chakotay laughed. "I better save Harry from the crowds first, though."

"Yes. You don't want to be left completely alone," Chakotay agreed in a teasing tone.

"Right," Tom said slowly, nodding his head. He grabbed his recyclable goods, then with a last glance that floated from Chakotay to the Captain, he nonchalantly saluted his commanding officers and headed off to find Harry Kim.

"Good night, Tom," Janeway said with a grin.

"Beware of Torres patrolling the corridors," the Commander helpfully called after him.

Paris turned, still rubbing his mouth. "No worries about that! I'll be looking over my shoulder all the way!" Then he was gone, swallowed up by the crowd.

Chakotay smiled. "You know, I think Paris will turn out all right," he said after Tom had disappeared.

"As long as he stays away from Lieutenant Torres," Janeway conceded with a low chuckle.

"Yes, I thought he was being awfully brave to flirt with B'Elanna. She doesn't particularly care for that type of behavior."

Janeway gave a wry laugh. "He's lucky she didn't slug him."

"Oh," Chakotay suggested with a shrug, "B'Elanna's getting better at controlling her temper. She hasn't hit anybody for months."

"How fortunate," Janeway responded dully.

The Commander laughed. "Still having concerns about your chief engineer?"

"Not at all, Commander," she conceded gracefully, willing to admit it when she was wrong. "You were right about her all along, and you know it, and I know you know it. I couldn't have a better chief if I had ordered one from the replicator." She reached for a glass full of a pink beverage sitting on the table and took a drink. Her eyes widened almost instantly. Once the awful taste had penetrated her taste buds, she tried valiantly to keep her expression under control. She would have succeeded if Chakotay hadn't laughed at her. She calmly returned the glass to the table, hoping Neelix hadn't seen her displeasure. To cover her display, she went on, daintily wiping her mouth. "I was still surprised to see B'Elanna and Tom Paris together tonight." But she had to cough one last time.

Chakotay admired her control, but her comment caused him to raise an inquiring eyebrow. "Does that bother you?"

Janeway's own eyebrows rose, and she forgot her encounter with the drink. What was he getting at? Did he think she didn't like her officers fraternizing? Or was he intimating that she might be jealous? She laughed energetically at that idea. "Hardly, Commander! I've already had my fling with Lieutenant Paris if you'll recall." Chakotay choked a laugh, unable to help himself. The Captain continued good-humoredly, "Even if I don't exactly remember it, I know it happened. But I admit I haven't given much thought to relationships among the senior officers," she explained. "I guess I was taken a bit by surprise."

Chakotay continued to smile. "Well, I don't think there's need for concern; Tom and B'Elanna are friends. Not even Paris is stubborn enough to chase after Torres." He looked around at the crowd as he spoke, and his eyes settled on two crewmembers deep in conversation beside the far end of the table. "Now there, on the other hand, is a couple with a chance." He pointed.

Captain Janeway looked in the direction he had indicated. "Kirlin and Rollins? You really think so?"

The Commander nodded towards the older of the twosome. "Kirlin is a quiet guy - more interested in his experiments than in getting to know people. And underneath all his bravado, Rollins just wants someone who will pay attention to his softer side. I think he's had more fun getting together with Kirlin than with anybody else on the ship. And fun is what it's all about, after all."

Janeway looked at Chakotay approvingly. "It is. But how do you know all this?"

He smiled down at her. "I'm the First Officer - it's my job." When she looked at him in exasperation, he laughingly protested, "I pay attention, Captain. I like knowing what people are doing, what they think, how they feel about issues - you might call it my alternate hobby since coming to this quadrant."

"What, no spy network?" Janeway joked.

Chakotay shook his head. "Not yet. I'm still working on that."

For a moment she thought he was serious. Then she realized he was teasing her. She chuckled and shook her head in amusement. "I'll be sure to keep a look out for your spies in the future."

"A good idea," he urged in a lowered voice.

Their conversation was interrupted by a loud burst of laughter from across the room. A group of people were gathered around a smaller table, trading jokes and stories. Ensign Saunders sat in one of the chairs pulled close to form a sort of circle, and Ensign Marnissi perched contentedly on the arm of the chair, her hand resting easily on her fiancés shoulder. Several other couples were seated in similar arrangements, as there were not enough chairs to go around. The deficiency didn't appear to bother any of them. In fact, they were all so comfortable that when Alex said something, and Ansel answered with a sharp protest and a shove to his head, they all joined in with another burst of laughter.

"It's good to see everybody enjoying themselves," Janeway commented. "Harry should be pleased with the outcome of his concert. We'll have to schedule more events like this."

Chakotay nodded. "It's also nice to see how relaxed Alex and Ansel are. If I were this close to my wedding day, I think I'd be a bit more panicked."

Janeway suddenly glanced up at the Commander, her face questioning. "Have you ever been married, Chakotay?" she asked.

Chakotay glanced at her sideways and rubbed his chin. "I thought I met the right person about a hundred times, but no. The closest I came was my freshman year at the Academy. Thank goodness my friends managed to sober me up before the happy time arrived."

"Sober you up?" she inquired.

"I was drunk."

"You, drunk?" Janeway smiled. "Somehow I have a hard time imagining that."

Chakotay frowned. "I haven't always been the solemn guy I am now," he insisted. "I had my rowdy days too, way back in the golden age."

She looked at him, hiding her grin. "And when you joined the Maquis, you became a more subdued individual, I'm sure."

"I hope you're joking," he said.

"Absolutely," she replied in her most serious tone.

He grinned at her, enjoying their banter. They seldom had the opportunity to indulge in such teasing. "But no," he continued, returning to the original topic under discussion, "I haven't been married."

"Neither have I," she said with a whisper of a sigh. "It's quite a courageous step for Saunders and Marnissi."

"Have you noticed how many couples we have now since the wedding was announced?"

"I hadn't been aware of it, but now I can hardly avoid noticing them. Perhaps I should build up my own spy network. I feel too ignorant to be the Captain."

Chakotay frowned again, his brows furrowing. "I wasn't aware that was something you wanted to keep abreast of. I can -"

She stopped him with a wave of her hand. "Oh no! The crewmembers' personal lives are none of my business. It's as it should be." Then she gave a tiny shrug of admittance. "But like you, I'm... curious as to what's going on."

"Well, the next time I hear any juicy gossip, I'll be sure to share it with you." The Commander snapped his fingers. "That reminds me - Neelix moved the wedding to the holodeck."

"That's interesting. I thought it was supposed to be here, in the rec room."

"Neelix didn't want to leave out the doctor -"

She nodded, understanding. "...who needs the emitters in the holodeck to attend. Good thinking." The Captain self-consciously scratched her forehead. "I have the tendency to forget about the doctor's limited movement. I need to work on correcting that oversight on my part."

"He certainly lets us know when we forget him," Chakotay said.

"Leave it to Neelix to think of everything." Janeway glanced around. "Where is Neelix, anyway? I would think he'd want to be here tonight, to sample his food if nothing else."

"Oh, Neelix didn't provide the food tonight," Chakotay informed her.

She jerked to look at him in surprise. "He didn't? Then, who did?"

"I'm not entirely sure."

"Well, that explains that awful drink at least." She lifted her lips in a half smile. "Believe it or not, I think I'm getting used to Neelix's cooking. I'm even beginning to like it."

"Ever since his vacation started, I've thought the same thing," Chakotay confessed.

The Captain pointed suddenly. "And there he is, with Kes."

Chakotay turned. Neelix and Kes had just walked in and still stood at the door, surveying the crowd. The Talaxian held tightly to the Ocampan's hand, and Kes had an affectionate grip on his arm. She smiled at him, and whispered something obviously provocative in his ear, judging by his suggestive grin. Then she gestured at the Captain and the Commander. Neelix caught sight of them too and waved enthusiastically before starting to thread his way in their direction, Kes close at his heals.

"Now that's the oddest couple I think I've ever known" Janeway told Chakotay under her breath.

"I know. But whatever chemistry they share, it works. You have to admit that."

"I admit it. I'm just not sure I understand it," she whispered. Then Neelix and Kes were beside them.

"Captain! Commander!" Neelix greeted jovially. "Quite a party, isn't it? We just took some of the food to Ensign Wildman. She didn't feel she should bring the baby to the concert - the little tyke might have cried right in the middle of a song - but we didn't want her to be left out, either."

"That's very thoughtful of you, Neelix," the Captain said.

Neelix shrugged and grinned. "It's what I'm here for, Captain." He leaned in close, his words suddenly confidential. "But stay away from the pink beverage, whatever you do, Captain. I know Crewman Chell was only trying to help, and he did so want to try his hand at making lemonade, but I think he went a little heavy on the lemon. It came out a tad sour."

Janeway's eyes moved slightly to take in the Commander's restrained smirk. "I'll keep that in mind, Mr. Neelix," she stated. Somehow, she wasn't particularly thirsty anyway.

Kes wrapped her hand more securely around Neelix's arm and appeared to settle in for a nice chat. "But you have to admit it was an excellent concert. I'm really learning to appreciate the clarinet."

Neelix nodded and said, "I certainly enjoyed that orchestral number where Harry played the solo part. Such a smooth tone! It's hard to imagine its equal. Nothing like Klingon music, is it, Captain?" He grinned widely.

Chakotay chimed in, cutting off Janeway's caustic expression. "I think the jazz number was my favorite. Paris particularly liked it too."

Kes nodded. "I knew he would. I thought of him every time Harry practiced it. I just couldn't help myself; when Harry played, Tom came to mind."

Neelix turned to Kes. "Every time? You thought of him every time?"

Kes smiled fondly at Neelix. "Only in the most platonic fashion, Neelix. And I couldn't help overhearing Harry practice; his quarters are right next to mine."

Chakotay grunted. "So much for soundproof rooms. We better tell Saunders and Marnissi before the honeymoon starts."

"Commander!" Janeway admonished, then had to laugh at his innocent expression. There were times when she wasn't entirely sure if Chakotay was joking or not. But as uncomfortable as that feeling was, it kept her expectations of her First Officer from stagnating in a mire of routine and familiarity. It made for a more stimulating relationship, she decided.

Chakotay turned back to Kes, and, with his hands comfortably clasped behind his back, inquired, "How are you handling your noise problem, Kes?"

The Ocompan grinned. "Harry's giving me clarinet lessons. I decided if I couldn't stop his music, I should join him in making it."

Janeway laughed. The adaptability of the crew never stopped amazing her. "A wise decision."

"And a good choice in teachers," the Commander added. "I'm sure Harry will prove a proficient instructor."

Kes lowered her head and smiled self-consciously. "I hope so. The Ocompa are not known as a musical race."

"I'm sure you'll be a splendid musician," Neelix encouraged. "If anybody can do it, you can, sweeting."

Captain Janeway smiled at the two, but took a quick glance around the room. The reception was coming to a close. Crewmembers were leaving, and the cleaning committee was beginning to remove the remaining food from the table. She decided it was time for her to get back to the pile of reports sitting on her ready room desk.

The Commander had the same idea. "Well, I need to call it a day. I have an early watch tomorrow."

Janeway said, "Yes, I have more reports to finalize before I can go off duty." She turned to say good night to Neelix and Kes. "I'll see you at breakfast."

Neelix gave a distressed squeak. "Uh, Captain, I was hoping to talk to you about the wedding. If you have a few minutes...."

More talk about the wedding? Though she could think of several other topics she would rather discuss at the moment, Janeway graciously motioned Neelix towards the door. "Then please walk with me, Mr. Neelix."

"Thank you, Captain!" Neelix gave Kes a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Janeway turned to the Commander, and they shared a quick, good humored glance at the fact she had been caught by Neelix. He gave her a nod of sympathy, and with a soft half smile, he said, "Good night, Captain."

"Good night, Chakotay." Janeway smiled at him, then headed for the door. "Now, Neelix, what do you need to discuss?"

The Talaxian hurried to catch up. "Well, Captain, I was wondering what you planned to wear to the wedding."

The Captain stopped just before the door. "I beg your pardon?" she asked in surprise.

"You must realize that as the officiating - uh - official, you will be the most important personage at the ceremony, besides the happy couple. Unless something has been changed that I'm not aware of -"

Janeway sighed and allowed herself to rub her temple in a subdued display of irritation. At this rate she was never going to get to bed. "Please go on," she prompted. Perhaps movement would be an added encouragement to him. She turned back to the door, which swished aside, and headed with renewed determination into the corridor.

He followed on her heels. "Of course, Captain. I considered the typical Starfleet uniform, but then I said to myself no, that would be as exciting as eating cakes at every meal. I decided we should have a little more fun with this, surprise everybody, shall we say." Janeway eyed him doubtfully, but he continued without missing a beat. "Now I was thinking of something along the lines of a Terilian ball gown - simple yet elegant - always in style whether at a royal function or just watching polo on the fifth moon of Agravar. And for the perfect color - Captain, I'm seeing you in..." He paused to gaze at her reverently and sigh, "...yellow."

Chapter 9
Intermission 

Captain Janeway sat down in the chair with a sigh. She reached up behind her head and began to pull pins out of the bun that held her long hair away from her face. The bun of steel, she reminded herself with a smile. The name was used out of her hearing, of course, by the more courageous crewmembers, egged on, she suspected, by her First Officer and Lieutenant Paris. She turned a deaf ear to any overheard comments, deciding it was best to let the crew intermittently remind themselves that she too was only human, and hence open to periodic teasing. Besides, she was racking her brain to come up with an answering remark. As of yet, she hadn't had much success thinking up anything appropriate.

But now she gave her head a shake to loosen her hair so the strands would fall uncoiled around her face. She subconsciously pushed it back, then forced herself to relax in the chair. There was truly very little in the universe that made her as apprehensive as a hair cut.

"Such pretty hair," sighed Ensign Murali softly. "Are you sure you won't try something new? Maybe a little shorter? I could cut just a little on top right here and -"

"No," Janeway interrupted as gently as she could. "Just a trim, please."

"But for the wedding surely you want to leave it down -"

Janeway faced the Ensign, her hands up in a calming gesture. "I like it this way, though I thank you for the suggestion."

"But Captain," Murali protested, playing with different locks of her hair, "it frames your face so nicely. Perhaps I can -"

"Trim it, Ensign! That's an order!"

The Ensign heaved a deep sigh of regret. "Whatever you say, Captain. It's your hair."

Janeway heaved a muffled sigh of her own, then made herself uncurl her balled fingers. She'd rather deal with the Kazon than get a haircut from an amateur. But as Ensign Murali was the only person on board the ship who was willing to do this unpleasant, though necessary, duty, she had little choice. So she sat stiffly in the chair and prayed that he would at least cut it straight this time.

"Everybody wants their hair cut lately it seems," Murali chattered genially. He flexed his fingers before picking up a pair of deadly looking shears that he had copied from a pair in Sickbay. "It's the wedding. We all must look our best for the big event!" he said and grinned. Now that the ritual command of "just a trim" was given, he felt his duty to attempt at remaking the Captain was dispatched and he could get on with the cutting, an art he truly enjoyed. If only she would let him experiment!

"I expect so," Janeway answered rhetorically as she heard the first snip of the scissors. Without moving her head, she glanced down to find the lock of hair laying on the floor. It looked at least five centimeters long. Was he taking off more than she'd asked? It was hard to tell at this angle and looking out of the corner of her eye.

As if anticipating her concerns, Murali dryly stated, "Don't worry, Captain, I'm taking off just under two centimeters. Stop squirming. I don't want to poke you with the scissors."

Janeway sat even stiffer and did her best not to move. To distract herself, she mentally reviewed her afternoon's duty call and appointments: an inspection tour of Sickbay to see the doctor's recent remodeling efforts, and another meeting with Neelix about the wedding ceremony. But unfortunately there was little else going on besides wedding plans, and she found herself holding her breath against the dreaded snips of the shears despite her efforts to appear relaxed.

"Breathe, please, Captain," Murali requested while concentrating on his task. "There are no holo-emitters in these quarters for the doctor to come to your rescue."

"Are you about finished?" she asked through clenched teeth, refusing to rise to his bait and be more cheerful during this ordeal.

"Just one more cut... there! Now, that was relatively painless, wasn't it?" He snipped once more, then ran a comb through the ends of her hair in one last fluffing effort. "All done. Would you like to see it?"

Janeway rose hastily from the chair. "No, that's fine. I trust you. More or less."

Ensign Murali smiled. "You know, Captain, you're getting much better at sitting still. But I implore you, please don't touch it up this time if you don't like it," he said. "I will gladly make another appointment for you. Though it may have to be after the wedding."

Janeway tried to control her sour expression. "I'll remember that. Thank you, Ensign." She headed for the door, only to bump into Commander Chakotay as he came in.

"Ah, my next appointment!" Murali exclaimed with a grin and waved the Commander to his chair. "Come right in!"

"Beware," Janeway muttered to Chakotay. "He's in rare form today."

Chakotay nodded seriously. "I'll keep that in mind." He steeled himself, then went in and sat in the chair.

Murali stared at the Commander. "Hmm. How about something different, Commander? I was thinking a new cut, maybe something a little longer, with a side part and a sweep right here -"

"Just trim it!" Chakotay ordered bluntly.

Chapter 10
The Big Event 

The Doctor stood patiently against the unadorned holographic wall, watching every other person in the room with an acute and unrestrained interest. Crewmembers were rushing to and fro, carrying plants, moving chairs, calling up more furniture and deleting previous choices. Chaos reigned for a moment, then Neelix suddenly appeared in the middle of the teeming crowd, his hands upraised, and called a halt to the activities. Quickly consulting a padd, he systematically gave last minute instructions to each person within yelling distance, creating a semblance of control out of the original mess of the Holodeck. The doctor gave an impressed glance in the Talaxian's direction. Until now, Neelix had done little more than frequently annoy the doctor during their voyage; he had never seen the cook's instinctive flair for organization. Perhaps arranging weddings was simply another of his cleverly concealed talents.

A rush of noisy conversation reached his ears, and he turned to the open arch at his back. Several more crewmembers were arriving for the ceremony. The doctor stood straight, ready to greet them with his most congenial smile. He felt fairly sure that this smile, chosen so carefully for the event, was the most appropriate in his databank. He had auditioned several expressions in the reflection of his office computer before settling on this particular one just prior to beaming to the Holodeck.

Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres rounded the bend in the corridor, and Harry Kim and Kes followed close behind.

"Greetings!" beamed the doctor. "Welcome to the nuptials of Ansel Marnissi and Alex Saunders. Please come in and make yourselves comfortable. The ceremony will begin promptly at 1700 hours."

Tom gave a surprised look at the doctor, then pulled on his civilian tunic to remove any wrinkles. He chuckled at the same time. "Why, Doc, you're looking mighty cheery this evening."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. As greeter, I endeavor to begin the festivities with a fitting smile as each person enters the room."

Kes grinned, the gesture lighting her eyes. "You're doing an excellent job, Doctor! But I wasn't aware that you had been assigned to greet at the door."

"Ensign Saunders approached me just yesterday with the suggestion. I was pleased to take part in the ceremony."

B'Elanna cut in. "And speaking of the ceremony, we better find a spot. It's getting crowded in here already."

Harry come forward, craning his neck for a quick survey of the room. "Have you seen the Captain yet?"

Tom glanced swiftly around. "Nope, I don't see her - maybe she's not here."

"Or maybe she's hiding," Harry suggested wryly, noting how Neelix was still rushing around, giving orders first to Mr. Tuvok, then cornering Chakotay and thrusting a bright flower of some kind into his hands.

Torres turned to Harry. "Why are you so interested in finding the Captain? And don't tell me you want to talk to her about your emissions project!"

Harry laughed. "No! Come on, B'Elanna, I just want to see what she's wearing!" He pushed them all farther into the room, a grin spreading across his face as he took in the colorful decorations. He draped one arm around Tom's shoulder and the other around B'Elanna's and led them into the crowd.

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Kim certainly seems to be in high spirits."

Kes laughed in delight. "I don't think I've ever seen Harry this excited!"

"Yes, general happiness does appear to accompany weddings. Though I don't seem to understand this preoccupation with the Captain's attire; there is always anticipation of the bride and groom's clothing, but not of the performing official's. But Mr. Kim's is the third query that I've heard already."

Kes laid a gentle hand on his arm. "I think they're all just curious. Neelix wouldn't even tell me what Captain Janeway plans to wear for the ceremony."

"Perhaps he doesn't know."

"Perhaps," she agreed evenly, with a hint of humor in her voice.

The doctor glanced again at the gathering. His smile returned. "But I admit that I am equally as excited to be here as the Ensign. I've been reading up on weddings, you know." He looked proudly at her.

Kes smiled up at him. "Doctor! I didn't know that you were interested in terran ceremonies."

"Oh, yes, especially now. I've learned some truly amazing things since I began my research yesterday."

"I would love to hear some of them."

"You would?"

"Yes. For instance, do you see any particular ritual or tradition involved in this wedding?"

The doctor looked again at the holographic room. He thoughtfully tilted his head. "Well, no, now that I think of it, this configuration does not appear to be in the ship's computer. Most wedding, or bonding, ceremonies involve lengthy walks up aisles or around the gathered congregation - that tradition has apparently been removed from this wedding. However, I did find a few intriguing facts about the human psychology associated with the event. It seems that most weddings fall into five stages....

Stage 1
The ceremony 

A solemn hush had fallen in the Holodeck as Captain Janeway's voice rolled over the gathered crowd. She stood directly in the center of the room, Ansel and Alex before her, the crew ringing them in an unbroken circle of clasped hands.

"How interesting!" the doctor murmured to Kes, who stood between him and Neelix. The Captain had retrieved a long length of pliable red ribbon from Commander Chakotay and now held it aloft for everybody to see. With a deft twist of her fingers, she made a loop of the wide material, then pulled it wider, creating a large circle. Two crewmembers came forward to take up either end of the ribbon as Ansel and Alex raised their firmly held hands above their heads.

"This is not like anything that I've read about!" the doctor whispered excitedly into Kes' ear. His eyes darted back and forth, trying to catch every detail. "I see the inclusion of several honored attendants, but the rest is most unusual."

From Neelix's other side, Tom leaned in and with a grin said, "Now, I've heard of tying the proverbial knot, but this - why it's...."

Harry surreptitiously elbowed him hard in the ribs, and he choked on his words, issuing instead a loud guffaw that drew several curious glances. The doctor sent an annoyed look at him, then returned his attention to the Captain.

Watching while Janeway prepared to lift the loop of ribbon around the raised handclasp, Tuvok suddenly had a stray thought ghost across his mind: This would not be a convenient time for an unexpected red alert to sound. As a Vulcan, he was unaware of the humor in that meditation.

And Commander Chakotay was far too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice the slight shift in Tuvok's stance. He hadn't removed his gaze from the Captain since the beginning of the ceremony. She was stunningly dressed in black....

Stage 2
The overflow of joy and happiness 

"... to announce, in this company of gathered friends and loved ones, Ansel and Alex, joined yet free." Janeway paused while Lieutenant Tuvok and Ensign Frey pulled the ribbon away from the couple's hands, letting it fall to make a red stain on the white tiled floor. The Captain continued with a smile, "May I be the first on Voyager to wish that their united journey be long and happy and filled with life." Her smile growing, she took one of Ansel's and Alex's hands in each of her own and her voice rang across the Holodeck, "My friends, to Alex and Ansel!"

The tight handholds released and applause broke out. Chakotay came forward to shake the couple's hands, his grin as wide as Janeway's. He laughed at Ansel's sly wink, then moved aside to let Tuvok and Frey in. The crowd surged forward then, everybody wanting to be part of the congratulations.

The Commander pulled the Captain away from the sudden crunch, and they stood against the side wall to watch. Chakotay sighed and Janeway glanced up at him.

"Chakotay, you look downright delighted."

He peered down at her. "Do I? Well, I should - I feel great!"

Janeway looked again at the couple she had just brought together. "Me too," she agreed readily. "I think that's the finest wedding I've ever presided over."

"Not to mention the only wedding you've presided over."

The Captain tossed up a hand in mock surrender. "Let's not quibble over details!"

Chakotay's rich laughter rolled around the room, and a few heads turned in their direction.

But before anybody could wonder at the solitary corner the officers had so quickly worked into, Neelix yelled, "Form the arch; let's start the celebration!"

With a smile and a flash of something decidedly wicked in her eyes, Janeway grabbed her First Officer's hand and dragged him to the center of the room where a line was already beginning to take shape. Janeway stood next to Tuvok, and Chakotay took his place across from her. With a mischievous glance of his own in her direction, he wove his fingers comfortably with hers and they raised their arms to form the top of a waving humanoid arch.

"Come on, run!" Tom Paris called, and a shout of approval sounded loud in the room. The newly married pair took hold of hands, kissed briefly, then began a sprint through the winding human tunnel. The shout turned into a roar that accompanied the wild dash, then exploded into more applause as the two burst from the other end, officially declaring the ceremony over and the beginning of what most considered the best part of any wedding....

Stage 3
The party 

Harry Kim pushed his empty plate back and shifted comfortably in his chair. He was so full he didn't think he could move much more than that. "So, what was everybody's favorite part of the wedding?"

"The food," Samantha Wildman instantly responded. She delicately lifted another cheese roll from her plate and carefully bit into it. Cheese puffed out onto her fingers, and she happily licked it off, savoring each bite.

"That's just because you're still eating for two," Tom piped up, grinning as he played cautiously with the baby sitting in her carrier between his chair and her mother's. He still wasn't convinced that the tiny girl couldn't do him any harm, but he was consciously making an effort to overcome his fears and get to know her better. But no diapers! he silently promised himself.

B'Elanna shook her head. "No, I agree with Samantha; the food is wonderful. I don't know what Neelix did, but whatever it was, I like it."

Tom shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, maybe Neelix had a little help in the kitchen this morning."

B'Elanna glanced at him in surprise. "Are you saying that you cooked the wedding banquet?"

Tom leaned back, his nonchalance shifting quickly towards unchecked smugness. "I have many talents, Lieutenant," he responded suggestively.

Torres snorted, then after a thoughtful pause, her suspicious expression softened and she leaned closer to him across the table. "For your information, Lieutenant, so do I. Maybe I'll tell you about them... later tonight."

Ensign Wildman coughed inelegantly on her second cheese roll, and Harry had to give her a handful of napkins before she could recover.

"Well," Harry said, interrupting a very curious war of expressions going on between Torres and Paris, "I liked the stool the best." All other topics were forgotten as instant laughter met his comment. Harry smiled. "It's hard to imagine that when he created this ceremony, Neelix never considered the fact that the Captain is so much shorter than Alex Saunders. There was no way she could reach his hands with that ribbon when they were way over his head. I don't think I could have reached his hands!"

Tom was laughing so hard that he had to wipe a tear from his eyes before he could speak. "Did you see the look on Captain Janeway's face? She was just... just..." he paused, searching for the exact description, then settled for, "stunned."

Samantha added, "I don't think she knew what to do. It's a good thing the Commander kept his head."

"But wait," B'Elanna interrupted, her arms waving for their attention. "I thought sure I was going to burst when Chakotay asked for a stool, in that way of his - all quiet and serious..."

"But completely desperate!" Tom added.

Torres nodded, then went on, her words mixed with high peals of laughter. "...and the computer said please specify!"

"And he said...." Harry was laughing so hard he couldn't continue. "He said - "

"Just give me a stool!" they all finished together, laughing hard, their combined voices rising above the general din in the Holodeck.

At the sudden increase in noise, Tuvok glanced across the room in the group's direction. He paused in his conversation with the Commander to ascertain the topic under discussion. His eyebrow lifted, indicating a restrained show of Vulcan humor. He turned again to Chakotay. "It appears that you are famous, Commander," he stated dryly.

"Being quoted, am I?" Chakotay commented in reluctant amusement.

"I admit that during my initial tour of the room, I overheard two other groups talking about that occurrence." The Vulcan placidly regarded the Commander. "It seems to be the most memorable aspect of the ceremony."

"I prefer if everybody would just forget about it," Chakotay said.

Tuvok gave him an inquiring glance. "May I ask why?"

Chakotay pensively regarded the Lieutenant for a moment. Then he said, "If you have to ask, I don't think I can explain it, Tuvok." With a forgiving pat on Tuvok's shoulder, he turned and headed into the crowd.

Tuvok's expression grew puzzled as he pondered the First Officer's statement. "I must confess that I do not always understand the Commander," he murmured to himself.

Chakotay wove around the tables and milling personnel, his ultimate goal the food buffet. Before he could get near the line of people waiting to refill their plates, he came upon the doctor standing alone. He paused. "Doctor? Is everything all right?"

The doctor spun around, surprised. "Commander! I beg your pardon; I didn't see you. I hope you're not offended."

Chakotay smiled softly. Imagine being offended at the doctor! Usually the medical officer was being offended by everybody else. "Not at all," he said. "But I was wondering what you're doing? Wouldn't you rather mingle than stand here by yourself?"

"Oh, no, Commander!" the doctor quickly informed him.

Chakotay gave the hologram a startled look.

The doctor explained, "You see, Commander, if I mingle, I won't be able to watch everybody."

Chakotay's startled expression deepened. "You want to watch everybody?"

"Absolutely! I've never been to a wedding before. I didn't expect it to be so... emotional. It's fascinating!" The Commander's features remained uncomprehending, so the doctor continued. "I'll explain... take that corner over there, for example."

"Lieutenant Carey?"

"Yes. He's been sitting in that same spot for an hour now, periodically swishing his drink in his glass, but never drinking any of it."

Chakotay squinted across the room, trying to make out the lone form of B'Elanna's second. He could barely discern the man in the intervening surges of the Voyager crew. The doctor obviously had better eyes than he did. "Maybe he's depressed," he finally hazarded to guess.

The doctor looked impressed. "That's my theory too. Though I was under the impression that weddings were happy events."

"They generally are happy events. But what causes happiness for one may not for another," Chakotay pointed out.

"Oh." The doctor considered that for a moment. "I'll have to think about that more at a later time." He pointed to the opposite corner from Carey's table. "And over there is Captain Janeway."

"What is she doing?"

The doctor gave a puzzled shake of his head. "I have no idea. She appears to be standing still, yet she frequently talks, though nobody is there to listen. This is the third time that I have noticed her partake in this activity just since the food was served." He turned to Chakotay, baffled.

She's checking the ship's status through the computer, Chakotay realized. He knew Janeway too well to think that she could go for long without inquiring into the safety of the ship. Though Voyager was currently in parking orbit around an innocuous, remote moon, with shields reconfigured to dampen any sudden sensor sweeps from other ships, still the Captain felt a need to establish their condition. He turned to explain this to the waiting doctor, but a perverse humor suddenly took hold of him and instead he leaned closer to whisper, "Perhaps she's losing her mind."

The doctor looked surprised and seriously concerned at the same time. "Do you think so?" he whispered back, now thoroughly intrigued.

"Weddings sometimes do that to people," Chakotay informed lightly. Then he nodded his head and continued towards the banquet table in time to hide his smile from the doctor.

By the time his smile had lifted and he finished wriggling around all the groups of milling party goers and actually arrived at the buffet table, there wasn't much left in the realm of edible remains from the evening's feast. He sighed at his choices, then reached for a handful of safely recognizable nuts set apart from the main meal. He popped one in his mouth and glanced up. His gaze instantly fell on the Captain.

She was talking to Kes and Neelix now, laughing at something the Talaxian had just said. Her hair fell over one shoulder and she pushed it back with a quick brush of her hand, then laughed again. But at the same time she appeared to be preoccupied. Her gaze continually swept around the room as they spoke. To Chakotay it seemed as if she was looking for someone. Tuvok, he guessed. He knew she liked to go over security protocols with him anytime they found themselves in an unusual situation. And a ship with no personnel on active duty certainly qualified as unusual, he mused. But he watched as she caught sight of Tuvok a moment later, and though she acknowledged the Lieutenant with a nod, she continued to scan the crowd, still searching. Then her gaze came to rest on him.

Slowly she began to smile.

The next thing he knew, she had made her excuses to Kes and Neelix and was making her way towards him.

Now this is unexpected, he thought in surprised delight. His own wide grin answered her smile as she drew closer.

"Chakotay," she said simply, as if she had finally discovered what she'd spent a lifetime looking for.

He grinned warmly at her, unable to help himself. "How are you?" He offered her his palmful of nuts.

She took a few and distractedly nibbled on them. "A little overwhelmed, I think." She looked around, indicating the meaning behind her words with a glance at the crowd.

He looked as well. "We are an impressive sight all massed together. It's not often there's an opportunity for all of us to see each other at once. I think it's nice."

"Nice? Tell that to my stomach!"

"Have you eaten?"

"Not yet. I was too busy talking. Have you?"

He shook his head. "No. I was too busy talking." They shared an amused glance, and the Commander chuckled. "And I'm afraid there's not much left. But I heard it was good."

"So did I. Well, let's rummage through the leftovers - maybe we'll find something we can munch on."

They stood at the table, selecting first one item to taste, then moving on to the next. They dispensed with plates as they had only intended to sample, but their picking stretched into a standing meal. Occasionally one of them even found something worth sharing.

"Here, try this." Janeway held up a piece of what looked like beef grilled inside a wilted lettuce leaf.

Chakotay took the offering, and chewed thoughtfully. Then his mouth puckered up. "Whew! That was nasty!"

"Hmm. I thought it was pretty good."

"Too salty. I don't like so much salt."

She cocked her head for a second, and a curious expression flitted across her face, almost as if she was tucking that bit of information away in her mind. Before Chakotay could ponder what that might mean, she pointed to a plate just out of her reach. "What about that - It looks like vegetable something."

"Mushrooms!" Chakotay leaned over the table to pull the delicacy closer. "I love mushrooms."

"Something you inherited from your parents?"

"No. From the Academy. Mushrooms and onions, breaded mushrooms, fried, grilled, sauteed... I don't care - I like them all. Look, there's even a sauce. Try it." He offered a large slice coated in a thick white dip that dripped down his hand as he held it out to her. Janeway hesitantly leaned closer and he placed it in her mouth, careful not to let anything fall on her dress.

"I like that!" she said around her mouthful of food. She caught a stray drop of sauce with her finger.

"You sound surprised."

She nodded and reached for a cloth to wipe her hands. "I came across mushrooms at the Academy too, at all those -"

"Graduation banquets," he finished for her

"Yes! But I didn't like them at all - too boring."

"Not enough salt," he teased with a smile. "Or maybe you just prefer the special Voyager variety, grown in space by magic Ocampan hands."

She gave him a grin of her own. "Maybe."

Anything more that she might have said was cut off by a sudden blast of music, and everybody stopped socializing and looked up.

Neelix stood at the Holodeck's computer, a wide grin splitting his freckled features. "Okay, everybody, just thought I'd get your attention! We're about to start the dancing, so if you would please clear the center tables there, I'll conjure up the dance floor in a minute. Perhaps we can even convince Lieutenant Alex and Ensign Ansel to come out and show us a few steps from the old married folks." A ripple of laughter greeted that suggestion, and all eyes turned to find Saunders and Marnissi sharing an embarrassed hug at one of the outer tables. Neelix beamed at them in glee. He continued, "So grab that partner of your dreams and hang on, because the fun is about to begin!"

People rose to their feet, moving from the center of the room, and the tables and chairs dematerialized one by one, replaced by a smooth dancing floor. Groups of crewmembers clustered together as they waited for the music to start, and the conversation buzzed anew.

Chakotay snuck a glance at the Captain. She was looking at the dance floor, then back at the food, then at the remaining tables, then back at the food again. Finally her gaze settled on him. His stomach did a pleasant little flip as she scrutinized him for a brief second. That look made him think that things could possibly get very interesting before the evening was over. Then she interrupted his thoughts. "Would you care to sit down for awhile?"

He couldn't have received a better invitation to help the night along if he'd asked for it. "There's nothing I'd like better," he answered. And he smiled slowly.

She smiled back just as enticingly. Then she quietly said, "You flirt."

Chakotay laughed, and gave her a fond glance. "You started it," he mildly pointed out.

She grinned at their teasing. In a movement both natural and intimate, she placed a hand on his arm as she searched the room for a free table. "Well, shall we?"

"After you." He gestured her towards an empty table.

"Oh, let's take some mushrooms - just grab the whole plate." She reached for some drinks, then led the way to a back table sequestered against the wall, away from the dance floor. Chakotay followed just in time to notice the doctor peer closely at the Captain as he passed by to finally mingle with the crew.

Janeway pulled a chair out for him, but her gaze was still on the doctor. "What was that all about?" she wondered.

Chakotay shrugged disarmingly, then muttered, "Umm - you might get a request to report for a physical sometime in the next few days."

"A physical? What makes you think that?"

"Just routine, I'm sure." He sat down and began eating to deter any further comments on her part.

"Of course," she replied with narrowed eyes and an unusual touch of sarcasm in her voice. Calmly she sat down across from him, reached for a mushroom, then lazily inquired, "Called up any stools lately, Commander?"

"Only in extreme emergencies," he responded smoothly. "And for particularly short people."

"I am not short!"

"That depends on who you're standing next to."

Janeway chuckled. "Chakotay! Come on, be nice to the officiating official," she replied.

"A Neelixism?" he asked. She nodded. "And speaking of the official, I wanted to tell you that I thought you did a good job."

She smiled at him. "Thank you. Neelix spent the last few days coaching me on looking dutifully important and making my voice project through the Holodeck."

"You had a problem projecting?" he ribbed.

"Amazing, isn't it? He told me to pretend we were at red alert and the phasers were at the other end of the ship. Worked beautifully." She paused, then softly added, "And by the way, thank you for the stool."

Chakotay paused in his eating to look at her and the corner of his mouth lifted in a private half smile. "My pleasure."

Stage 4
Winding down and cleaning up 

Several hours later the party was clearly coming to an end. The honored couple had left for their new quarters, and most of the crew had retired for duty shifts or bed. Approximately twenty people remained in the Holodeck as the cleaning began.

Tom and B'Elanna stood at the computer access panel, debating over a fresh set of music selections to help the cleaning crew along with their chores. B'Elanna was hotly defending the new swing period of the mid twenty-third century, while Tom kept punching in the codes for mellow jazz. Finally the engineer pushed Paris against the wall and held him there with an arm across his throat as she triumphantly set the computer to her preference. But Tom hardly looked defeated. Instead he spent the free moment where Torres' attention was on the computer to admire her arm muscles at close range.

From across the room, Harry Kim shook his head in slight disgust, though a smile snuck across his face. Sometimes Tom's antics were too much even for his best friend to take seriously. The Ensign turned back to the other crewmembers seated at his table and reached out to take Wildman's wriggling baby from her carrier.

"It figures she would sleep through all that noisy music, and now that it's time to go to bed, she's wide awake." Samantha grimaced in good humor at her tiny daughter. "But she was pretty good for her first party."

Harry jiggled the baby, who smiled a toothless smile at him. Then without warning, she spit up all over the front of his specially replicated party jersey. Harry looked down in stunned disbelief at his shirt, now dribbling with mashed prunes and regurgitated formula. But after the first moment of surprise had passed, he managed to turn to Wildman and say, "Oops."

Samantha grabbed an already soiled rag laying on the table. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry. She usually screws up her face before she does that." She dabbed at the mess on his shirt.

Harry held the girl away from his front. "Kind of like the red alert before she fires her torpedoes?"

Wildman laughed. "You could say that."

Lieutenant Carey stood and took the baby from Harry. "I remember when my little girl was this small. She used to throw up regularly, every two hours, like a clock. Then she would just grin and eat some more." He cuddled the baby against his shoulder as he leaned back into his chair again.

Tuvok bent closer to get a look at the girl. "I too recall moments like this with my third son. The doctors wondered if he would ever gain weight. Then came the time he decided to halt his unsavory behavior and keep his food in his stomach where it belonged. My wife was most content with him after that day."

Harry gawked. "Is that really true - that babies this young can make conscious decisions?"

The Vulcan handed another towel to Wildman. "Certainly, Ensign Kim. The mind is an amazing instrument, even in one so young as Ensign Wildman's little girl."

"That's incredible," Harry muttered.

"Yes," intoned Tuvok, "it certainly is." He placed his index finger against the baby's palm, and she obligingly wrapped her entire hand around his one finger. Then she pulled it into her mouth and chewed on it. Tuvok serenely gazed at her, but spoke to Carey. "I am curious, Lieutenant; how old are your children?"

The expression on Carey's face instantly shuttered as thoughts of his family crowded out his current enjoyment.

"Tuvok!" Samantha said in reproach.

Tuvok appeared surprised for a moment, then understanding lit his eyes. "I do apologize, Lieutenant. I did not intend to cause you any discomfort by recalling memories of your family."

But Carey was shaking his head. He patted the baby absently on her back. "No, Mr. Tuvok. I know you didn't mean any harm. It's just that I've been missing them a little more since all this wedding stuff started, that's all."

Tuvok sighed in a significant show of non-Vulcan behavior. "I too would like to see my family again," he admitted.

Carey swung around to face the security officer. "Do you miss them, Tuvok? I always wondered."

"Of course. I am not without sympathy simply because I am Vulcan. My family is never far from my thoughts."

Carey turned forward again, his expression now thoughtful. "You know, it's the sharing I miss the most. That's what makes a relationship really special. I always want to tell something to my wife, or show my son a holodeck program I think he'd like." He shrugged. "It can get lonely in the Delta Quadrant."

Samantha finished her ministrations to Ensign Kim. She dropped the towel to the table and propped her chin in her hands in dejection. "I know what you mean. I love my daughter, but I can't have a very invigorating conversation with a baby."

She sighed deeply.

Carey hissed a breath out and rubbed his cheek against the baby's bald head.

Tuvok stared at his finger still in the baby's grip, his face blank.

Harry Kim groaned. "Not again!" His sat up abruptly. "A few days ago Tom was moaning that the wedding had ruined his swinging single days. I was missing Libby. B'Elanna was complaining about having dates. It's ridiculous!"

Carey perked up. "Lieutenant Torres has a date?"

"Yes - no! That's not the point." Harry sighed. "The point is, we have things to share right here. With 150 people on this ship, there's bound to be things going on. So, let's... well, share them." Finished, Harry lapsed into an awkward silence. It was unusual for the cheerful Kim to get so exasperated with his fellow crewmembers.

Carey looked once around the circle, uncomfortable after Kim's mini lecture. Finally he hesitantly said, "I guess I have something to share."

Harry brightened. "You do? Good! What is it?"

"Well, maybe it's not sharing so much as something I've noticed," hedged the Lieutenant.

Tuvok retrieved his finger and wiped it on the towel. "Lieutenant, what do you mean?"

Samantha's eyebrows rose knowingly. "I think I can guess."

Without another word, all four of them turned to stare across the room. The Captain and Commander Chakotay were still seated at the same back table, talking to each other, and completely ignoring the rest of the crew and the clean up activities.

"They've been there for an awfully long time," Carey observed pointedly.

"They danced quite a few times," Wildman said as she gave the couple a calculated stare.

"Yeah, Captain Janeway danced once with Saunders and the Commander danced once with Ansel. I don't really call that quite a few times." Carey shared his knowledgeable glance with Samantha.

Harry leaned farther across the table, attempting to get a better look at his superior officers. It was hard to tell from this angle, but it looked like.... "Are they holding hands?"

Samantha narrowed her eyes. "It's hard to tell from here, and the lighting's not very good...."

Tuvok gave them all a piercing glance. He shifted irritably in his chair. "I believe I understand what you are implying, and I do not think there is any basis for your assumptions. Commander Chakotay and Captain Janeway are friends. It is expedient to the ship that the commanding officers be on friendly terms."

"It doesn't hurt the commanding officers any, either," Carey said under his breath.

But Harry was watching Tuvok. "What's wrong, Lieutenant? Is there a problem with the Captain and the Commander having a relationship?"

Mr. Tuvok turned patiently to Mr. Kim. "Command relationships are unwise for the sake of the crew."

Harry blinked. "But why? I don't think it should matter to the crew."

"Technically," Carey interjected, "it's none of our business."

"It is the direct responsibility of the crew to expect nothing but complete professionalism from those commanding the ship. Just as it is the senior officers' duty to always put the needs of the crew above their own needs."

Harry snorted. "You sound like you're quoting the Starfleet officer's manual." Tuvok's expression became even more severe and he hastily added, "Sir."

Samantha sat back and calmly wiped her hands once more on the towel, then smoothed the baby's blanket across her lap, preparing to feed her. "I think that it doesn't matter what we think," she said and held out her hands to accept her girl from Lieutenant Carey.

Tuvok guardedly requested, "Please clarify, Ensign." Carey and Kim also gave her their attention, waiting for her answer.

Samantha Wildman settled her daughter on her lap as she sighed, surprised that she had to explain it. "I mean that Commander Chakotay is in love with the Captain."

Tuvok gave her a look of disbelief, the most emotional response she'd ever seen him display. Carey laughed outright. "What?" he exclaimed so loudly that Harry was afraid the couple under discussion might actually look their way.

Samantha sent them all a curious look. "I'm just noting the obvious. All you have to do is look at the man to know. I've seen the signs before; he is so happy he glows. Nothing else makes sense."

"Well, the Commander is a pretty cheerful guy all around," Harry pointed out with another cautious glance at Tuvok.

Wildman shook her head. "Not that cheery. Nobody is that cheery without a good reason."

Harry glanced once more at that back table. Perhaps she was right - judging by the look on his face, Chakotay sure seemed to be having a good time. He wished he could see the Captain's expression, but she was turned away from him. "I hadn't thought of it before," he admitted, "but you might have something there."

Carey looked once again at that far table, then his glance turned sly. "So, if what you say is true, do you think Captain Janeway knows?"

"I'm not sure the Commander knows," she answered ruefully.

Tuvok interrupted their considerations. "I believe that you are drawing conclusions from a faulty hypothesis, Ensign."

Ensign Wildman paused to look contemplatively at the man. At last she smiled in soft sympathy and said, "Tuvok, if you're afraid that a relationship between the Captain and one of the crew would reduce her friendship with you, I don't think you have anything to worry about. Captain Janeway cherishes her relationship with you. I know that just by watching her."

Tuvok was about to protest that he had no such concerns, but then he was silent for a moment as he inwardly searched his thoughts on this new possibility. He was disturbed to find that he didn't know what to think. He glanced again in his Captain's direction. "I will need time to reflect on your words, Ensign," he finally confessed.

Carey stood up. "Well, while you're thinking, Tuvok, let's help with the cleaning. I'll feel a lot better if I'm being useful."

"That's a good idea." Harry stood too. "Come on, Lieutenant. Neelix looks like he could use some help, Vulcan style."

Tuvok rose as well. "And what, may I ask, is Vulcan styled help?"

Ensign Kim could only shake his head and look helplessly at the center of the dance floor where Neelix was doing some kind of weird shimmy around Kes, who laughed in delight and clapped her hands at the Talaxian.

"Now that's what I call becoming one with the music," Carey stated, impressed.

Then Tom and B'Elanna twirled across the floor, the part Klingon obviously in the lead, adding their own brand of entertainment to the chores.

Lieutenant Carey turned suddenly to Samantha. "Would you like to dance, Samantha?"

The request surprised the Ensign. She looked at the couples on the floor with a longing surpassed only by her cravings for cheese. "I can't leave the baby..." she protested at last, though unconvincingly.

Carey strode back to her side, bent to pick up the baby, then held out his hand. "Let's try it. I bet she'll love my dancing."

Samantha smiled. "Well, all right." She allowed him to lead her onto the floor. The baby started singing in a semblance of time to the music.

Tuvok and Ensign Kim shared a glance of wonderment. "I think we've all gone nuts," Harry muttered.

The baby's voice grew louder, and her high pitched screeching carried to every corner of the room.

The noise finally broke through the cozy isolation wrapped around Chakotay and the Captain. The First Officer looked up, suddenly noticing the emptiness of the holodeck. He gave the Captain a surprised glance. "I think we missed the party." He smiled wryly at Janeway.

Janeway sighed and sat back in her chair, slouching comfortably. "The first wedding on Voyager. Perhaps the first of many. I'm still overwhelmed."

"I think it was very successful," Chakotay said in encouragement. "Neelix did a fine job organizing it."

"I agree."

"I can't wait till the next one."

"Oh, Chakotay, you're not serious?" When he only grinned at her, she groaned in exasperation. "Fine, you can perform the next one and I'll call up the suddenly necessary furniture."

"It's a deal." He held out his hand, and she shook it energetically. "Although I don't think everybody will be nearly as interested in my wardrobe as they were in yours."

Janeway devilishly widened her eyes. "Are you sure?"

Chakotay firmly shook his head. "It's not possible. I would never look as good in that dress as you do. Even Ansel commented on how much attention it was getting."

She laughed in satisfaction. "Well, I'm glad, for Neelix's sake. He designed it, you see, though I chose the color. He so wanted a Terilian ball gown that I couldn't say no. But not..."

The Commander wrinkled his nose. "...yellow," he finished.

The Captain rolled her eyes. "Definitely not yellow! Ugh! I detest yellow. I think Talaxians see colors differently than Humans."

Chakotay's gaze settled on the still dancing morale officer. "But I have to say that I think Neelix is the most cheery individual I've ever met, even with his poor fashion taste." The Commander rose then, stiff after sitting in one place for so long. "I need to stretch." His gaze shifted to the other groups still moving around the floor, dancing in incongruous pairings to Tom and B'Elanna's music. "Would you like to dance?"

The Captain rose to stand beside him, but now she paused in bewilderment. She glanced up at him; he was looking down at her, a patient but inviting expression on his face. Still she pondered his suggestion.

He made a guess at what was running through her mind - she was trying to decide if dancing was against one of those notorious behavior rules she had established for herself. Though dancing with him was in reality no different than dancing with Alex Saunders or anybody else on the ship, to her there was a large difference. He was her First Officer, and she was so bound by Starfleet code that he doubted if she ever completely forgot the protocol that accompanied their respective positions. On the other hand, as far as he knew, he was the only member of the crew who had attempted to breach her command reserve and approach the Captain on anything remotely close to a personal level. Her hesitation informed him more plainly than words that his attempts were not going unnoticed. He was no longer just another member of the crew, and for that he was glad.

"Captain," Chakotay said quietly, coaxingly, interrupting her inner battle, "it's just a dance." He took her hand and teasingly continued, "And you don't know when the next wedding might be."

The moment passed. Her eyes narrowed. It was almost as if he was daring her. A dare she could accept, or rather, hide behind. "Then what are we waiting for? By all means, lead on, Commander!"

He pulled her towards the smooth dance area before she could change her mind.

As they passed by him, Tuvok took a moment from assisting Ensign Kim in the cleaning detail to watch them. They both appeared to be thoroughly enjoying themselves. In fact, the Captain and the Commander looked as happy as he had seen either of them since entering the Delta Quadrant. Happiness was not an important state of consciousness for Vulcans, but he had spent too much time in Starfleet not to realize its benefits for the more emotional Humans. Again he wondered at Ensign Wildman's supposition. It certainly merited more consideration.

"Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully, arresting Kim's attention. The young Ensign joined Tuvok in his observation, and a slow smile crept across his face....

Stage 5
Post party depression 

Kathryn Janeway took one last look in her mirror, then groaned. She looked awful. Worse than awful, in fact. Her skin was pale and dark shadows circled under her eyes. She looked like a ghost, or like she hadn't slept well the night before. Which she hadn't.

A restlessness that had settled over her soon after retiring from the wedding party gradually mutated to a nightmarish crescendo that left her sweating and exhausted and staring in stark terror at every corner of her cabin. Then, wide awake, her brain had turned to pursuing erratic thoughts about babies and weddings and families that chased each other around her mind for the remainder of the night, robbing her of any semblance of rest. To top it all off, she woke after only one hour of sleep to agonizing stomach cramps.

It was not a promising way to begin a duty shift.

Something had to be done, and soon. She didn't think she could command the ship in this condition. She touched her combadge as more nausea wove through her stomach. "Janeway to Bridge."

Bridge here, Tuvok responded.

Chakotay hadn't arrived on the Bridge yet, either, she noted. Whatever malevolent Delta Quadrant disease she had contracted this time, she hoped it had decided to pass him by. "Lieutenant, I'm not quite feeling myself this morning. You have the Bridge until the Commander arrives. I'll be in Sickbay."

There was the tiniest pause on Tuvok's part, unnoticeable if one didn't know the Vulcan well, barely discernible even to her. Aye, Captain, he said before she could ruminate further. "Janeway out."

Slowly she turned to the door and proceeded into the corridor. Her mind was still a jumble of half finished thoughts and distorted memories of her dreams from the night before. These mixed indiscriminately with several subjects she had periodically considered in the recent weeks, all forming a jumbled mess inside her head. She groaned again as she continued to the turbolift.

Foremost in the tumult of thoughts and emotions was her dance the previous night with Commander Chakotay. As harmless as the act had seemed at the time, now it grew in importance to become almost embarrassing. What had possessed her to accept his suggestion to dance? Had she lost her mind? They had been so careful to keep their instinctual barriers in place all evening, just as they had during Harry's concert reception. Mild flirting and teasing was acceptable, as long as it didn't go any farther. But was dancing considered too far? She didn't know any longer, any more than she knew why Tuvok hadn't stopped her if she was behaving inappropriately.

But really, what was one dance, she argued with herself. Hardly anything to get so flustered about. She was being ridiculous, reading things into the Commander's simple proposal that weren't there. Wasn't she?

She wrestled with her conflicting thoughts, trying desperately to define those "acceptable behavior" patterns. The truth was, she simply didn't know anything anymore; she didn't know what she wanted, what was expected of her, and if she wanted to do what was expected. It's a good thing I'm not this indecisive on the Bridge, she chastised wryly as she finally gained the turbolift. "Deck three," she requested, then paused again as another thought took hold; why had she used the word 'proposal' just now?

It was all connected to the wedding and the baby.... That was another thing. She had recently been entertaining thoughts of having a baby, which was ludicrous. The Captain of a starship simply could not have a baby. How could she command the ship and be pregnant at the same time? And what happened to the baby after the birth? She couldn't possibly take time out from being Captain to care for an infant. Of course, she spent an odd hour with Samantha Wildman's little girl, but that hardly constituted the amount of time and energy it took to be a parent. And having a baby meant having a relationship with somebody first, a relationship with a crewmember, since there was apparently going to be few other choices for the next seventy years, and that opened up another set of impossibilities. In fact, the entire scenario was flatly outrageous, and she accepted that. So where were these thoughts coming from?

An image of herself, very pregnant, rose unbidden to her mind even as she battled her stomach and the door to Sickbay came conveniently in view. Hmph, she grunted to herself. She could just see it now; "Tuvok, you handle that enemy ship that's firing at us - I'll be in my ready room, having morning sickness."

It was too unnerving to dwell on, Janeway decided, so she pushed it all aside as she entered Sickbay. Her stomach gurgled painfully, and the possibility that she might vomit suddenly asserted itself. She suppressed it with every ounce of restraint that she had left.

The first sight that caught her eyes startled her so much that she forgot her stomach and came to a dead halt just inside the door.

Chakotay, dressed in his uniform but looking positively green, lay on a biobed, in fetal position with his knees practically touching his chin, as if to protect his stomach. He halfheartedly glanced in her direction at the sound of the door, but when he noted her identity, he roused himself enough to say, "Hi."

So that was the reason for Tuvok's hesitation over the comm channel. Janeway had said she wasn't feeling quite herself this morning, which could mean she was suffering anything from a mild headache to a major need for surgery. Or even recuperation from a busy night. If Chakotay had made a similar statement for all the Bridge personnel to hear.... She could only guess what the crew must be thinking now.

But there was nothing she could do about that at this point. In fact, she found his presence in Sickbay rather amusing. Janeway had almost managed a weak grin in return to his greeting when her stomach lurched, reminding her why she was in Sickbay, and she had to clamp her teeth shut to control the rumblings. She crossed to his side when she thought it was safe to move. "Hi yourself."

"What are you doing here?" he asked, then went on before she could speak. "No, don't tell me - your stomach," he guessed.

Janeway nodded, then moaned and clutched the edge of his bed. "How is it that we're getting strange ailments that don't seem to affect the rest of the crew?" she asked.

"I don't think this is any weird disease," Chakotay said. He gave her an apologetic glance, then confessed, "Did I neglect to mention that mushrooms are a fungus?"

She balked. "You mean -"

Chakotay nodded. "Whoever prepared them didn't do something quite right."

"But others ate them, and nobody else seems to be suffering any ill effects," she said in frustration.

The doctor suddenly appeared from his office, overhearing her last comment. "The others didn't eat an entire platter of them," he pointed out acerbically. He gave her a professional once over with a tricorder, then gestured for her to climb onto the adjacent bed. "Well, I can't say that we haven't been expecting you, Captain. Your arrival is most timely, in fact, as I have just finished mixing a detoxing agent."

"Wonderful," she murmured.

The doctor glared at her, but only raised a hypospray to her neck, then did the same to the Commander. "This should handle that fungus problem you have and alleviate the nausea." Janeway nodded gratefully. "And next time," continued the doctor, his tone irritated, "please show more restraint."

"We promise," Chakotay moaned from his bed.

The doctor nodded. "Very well. I want to keep you both here for the next hour for observation. So get comfortable. I'll check on you in thirty minutes."

When the hologram had once again disappeared into his office, Janeway turned to her First Officer, then had to lay back on her bed in an attempt to mollify her spinning head. "Chakotay."

"Yes?"

"As soon as we feel better, remind me to demote you."

"I'll make a note of it in my log."

"Oh, the logs!" Janeway fell the rest of the way against the bed. She groaned again and flung an arm over her eyes. "I don't even want to think what Tuvok will say in the official logs."

Chakotay slowly uncurled himself so that he could see her. "I don't think I know what you mean."

She removed her arm to stare at him with lifted brows. "Tell me, did you contact the Bridge before you came to Sickbay this morning?"

Slowly he nodded his head, then had to put his hand up to make it stop. "Yes."

"What did you say?"

He thought for a moment. "Something about not feeling well because I was up all night."

She gave another, more exaggerated groan. "It's worse than I thought!"

"What, your stomach?"

"No, the logs!" Janeway lay still and stared in dismay up at the ceiling, then looked at him, then back at the ceiling. She put her hand on her cheek and slowly announced, "This morning I told Tuvok that I wasn't quite feeling myself."

Chakotay's eyes widened in understanding. "And last night...."

"Last night, at the party, we talked the whole time, we practically ignored everybody else, we...." Suddenly she stopped and regarded him.

"Gossip," he said, and that explained it all.

"I'm sure the Bridge personnel heard every word - you know how they are, always listening to everything that's going on."

"Like vultures, waiting for a succulent scrap to fall at their feet." He hissed a breath out towards the room, paused a moment to think, then turned to her. Now there was definite amusement in his eyes. "They're going to eat this up," he predicted mildly.

A weak smile lifted the corners of her lips. "Actually, it is amusing in a way. They're all out there, talking about what they think we did last night--"

He finished, "When what we were really doing was rolling around, groaning and moaning with the stomach ache from...." He grinned right at her. "It's too bad we'll never hear what they're saying. Their version of last night has to be more enjoyable than ours."

The cramps were beginning to pass now, thanks to the medication, and she was able to chuckle. "Oh, Chakotay, we both got what we deserved this time."

They were quiet for a moment, their gaze cast to the ceiling, but both of them trying to watch the other out of the corners of their eyes. Finally Chakotay decided to ask, "Was it worth it?"

Kathryn gave him a half smile, then shyly said, "I had a good time."

He nodded once, a slow, soft smile of his own breaking out. "So did I."

The end.