by ALM_Voyager
© September 10, 2000
Disclaimer: Voyager belongs to Paramount Pictures. No infringement intended.
"Odd," Tuvok stated as he looked at the logs and once again purged the transporter console. "There are no visible signs of a transport."
"Maybe, sir," one of his officers offered up, "the ship is still malfunctioning from those override codes that Seska put into the system?"
"Perhaps--" Tuvok stated, but logic made sure he didn't draw any conclusions . . . yet.
Chakotay looked up to see Tom, B'Elanna and Harry enter the messhall where they promptly placed themselves in a huddle at a table. His heart was warmed with the knowledge that they were starting to become a close knit group and he only wished he had a close relation with someone on board as they did with each other. Especially for the holidays.
"What do you want for Christmas, Captain?" he asked, shoveling a forkload of food into his mouth.
Kathryn paused, coffee cup in hand, "A bag of coffee beans and a coffee pot, Commander?" Where had that little sin come from. "I mean--"
Chakotay grinned, "Come clean. I thought since there wasn't coffee in that nebula, you were going to have to give it up?"
"Do you *honestly* want me to do that? Besides, Santa knows I've been a good Captain. I deserve coffee," she shrugged the explanation out of her system.
"You've been more than good, Kathryn," he stated, "to all of us."
Kathryn held the dark, poignant liquid of her coffee in her mouth, unable to swallow. He had said her name . . . not Captain, not Captain Janeway not even Captain Kathryn Janeway . . just . . Kathryn. She watched as he jerked his attention over to the laughing threesome that were Torres, Paris and Kim.
"What do you suppose they're up to?" he asked.
"I don't want to know --" Kathryn chuckled.
"I can't believe we did it!" B'Elanna exclaimed with enthusiasm. She didn't know what she liked better . . . an illegal transport, a reindeer on the hull or foiling Tuvok.
"Shhh!" Harry and Tom snickered at their friend's loud remark.
"I take it your mission was successful," Neelix had just joined them, pouring cups of cocoa for everyone.
"Hell yeah!" Tom high-fived Harry. "Now all we have to do is wait until Christmas Eve, when everyone . . . well, most everyone . . . is asleep to decorate the rest of the ship."
"I'm still nervous about making the Captain angry--" Neelix started.
"By then," Tom stated, "she'll be more than happy with what we've done?"
"How do you figure that?" B'Elanna raised an eyebrow with disbelief.
"Because I know what *they*," he indicated the Command duo, "*need* for Christmas."
"They do *not* need sex, Tom!" B'Elanna roared in the privacy of her quarters.
"What the world, needs now," Harry began to sing, "Is luv sweet lu--" he broke off as B'Elanna stared him down.
"Hasn't it ever occurred to you that the two of them are prefect for each other?" Tom asked calmly. A strange calm, at that.
"Perfect? For each other?! A Maquis and a Starfleet Captain?" B'Elanna was shocked beyond belief.
"Hey, we get along fine," Harry offered.
"Shuddup!" Tom and B'Elanna said at once to him.
"Fine," Harry sniffed.
"Did you count how many times she touched him in the messhall and on the bridge today?! Well, I did," Tom announced. "Thirty-one times. And I'm not just talking about a pat of reassurance . . . nu uh. BO-DY- Language, folks."
"Tom--" B'Elanna still warned.
"And do you know how many times he touched her?" he asked. "Enough times to make me notice! And you, too, if you'd take the time!"
"Whatever happened to a good-old fashioned pip-jar or a new leather phaser holder--" Harry said to himself because no one else was listening.
"They don't interact after hours Tom! They barely interact over anything other than work!" B'Elanna provided him with the situation.
"B'E," he started forward, softly, which always threw the Klingon-Human woman off, "that's because they haven't had an opportunity to be together in any other situation."
B'Elanna sighed. Was it because Tom was right that she didn't want to hear the truth? Or because her heart still vied for Chakotay's? Or maybe her disdain with Starfleet ran a little to thick in her blood to see her best friend and fellow Maquis give himself to . . . to . . her. The Captain. Kathryn Janeway. Her commanding officer . . her . . her friend.
"You might be right," she finally admitted with a shrug. "So what do you suggest?"
"A white Christmas," Harry spoke up leaving the two speechless, but, impressed.