© October 5, 2000
Disclaimer: Voyager belongs to Paramount Pictures. No infringement intended.
- Many thanks to Celia for agreeing to be in the story! And to Clare009 for helping with the plot a bit. This is a VERY, VERRRRRRRRYYY late birthday present for Caffey dear!
It was the first time the bridge had been empty of the senior and commanding officers. It was also the first time that Neelix had been on the bridge alone. The Captain was in her ready room talking with Mr. Chakotay. Harry Kim was in his quarters on deck nine. And Tom Paris? Well, since the ship was docked at Spacial Hub Two, in the Delta Quadrant, there was no need for a pilot at the console.
Neelix shifted from foot to foot, waiting for his transmission to be received and a reply to be returned. The bridge, with all of its Starfleet gadgets, wasn't his first choice for scenic pleasures, especially since he didn't know how to work half of it. And if it hadn't been the Captain's suggestion that he establish a repore with his . . . friend . . . than Neelix would've left the first contact up to the Federation crew. Yet, if he was planning on getting a ride all the way to the Alpha Quadrant, he had to make himself useful and useful, in this case, was reminding his old friend Chebrik of the favor that was owed to Neelix himself.
And the fact was, it was 0200 hours in the morning and he wanted nothing more than to go cuddle with Kes. The Computer signaled an incoming transmission with one precise, mechanical beep prompting Neelix to push the command to accept it.
"I should've known you'd turn up again," the stout bi-pedal alien stated to the screen. His eyes were a murky grey, his forehead composed of circular ridges that would contrast vividly against the sharp lines that marked Lieutenant Torres' species, the Klingons. Chebrik's mouth was small, and as it had always been in the past, pursed into a tight line of noticeable regret which set off the length of his nose.
"Well," Neelix smiled with the good intentions his mother had taught him to always foresee, "hello to you too, Chebrik. I trust that the Engineering team our Captain sent over solved all of your," he waved his hands in the air searching for a technical term that would not find him, "mechanical . . . problems?"
"They did," Chebrik replied grudgingly.
"Lucky for you we were close enough to intercept that distress call from your hub," he added.
"Lucky for me? Ha!" Chebrik laughed, taking it all into full consideration. "I know what you want."
"You do?" Neelix added with truthful confusion.
"You've come to collect that money you *swindled* me out of four years ago," Chebrik glared. He was a rather sturdy man, but even the huge viewscreen of Voyager's bridge could not hide the fact that he was as short and uncertain in his frame as Neelix was in his own Talaxian body.
"Four years -- four years --" Neelix thought aloud, trying to remember. His head rose with recognition, "That was an honest to goodness--"
"Clever Talaxian," Chebrik broke in, "Nothing in this space is 'honest to goodness.' So," Chebrik looked over a console that was obviously in front of him, "I've decided to let you have your money --"
"But -- Chebrik --" Neelix started, wanting to clarify that he had been prompted by his Captain to make first contact, to establish a repore that would gain them supplies for the starship . . . not to lay claim to a four year old cash-pot.
"Don't interrupt me!" Chebrik stated and went on while Neelix fumbled with his own thoughts. "I refuse to pay you money . . . but . . . I *will* transfer the amount in the form of credit which is good while you stay at this hub."
"Cr-credit good . . good!" Neelix folded his hands behind his back, twiddling his thumbs. He had lost complete control over where their negotiations were going. "Does that mean we'll have enough for provisions and supplies?"
As if offering up an immediate and willing answer, Voyagers main computer stated a reply, "File transfer from docking bay station zero three three five complete."
Neelix moved toward the blinking console that stood in front of him, and watched as numbers scattered across the screen.
"Well?" Chebrik asked, waiting.
"Ahhh," Neelix said with a high pitch at the numbers, "Ah, yes, that more than covers it."
"Hmph," the other man pursed his lips again, "I thought so." Chebrik made a move to end communications but halted midway, retraining his attention to the screen one last time, "Oh and Neelix. You may have been a friend, in the past, but don't let the federations cause any problems on the hub. I'd hate to think of what my boss might do if they did."
"They're not of that sort Chebrik!" Neelix protested, silently hoping the Captain hadn't heard any of the conversation through those mechanical doors of her ready room.
"I hope not," Chebrik stated and ended the transmission, leaving Neelix pondering how he was going to explain to his leaders how Voyager had just acquired 40,000 pintbics of credit.
The next day:
Sickbay. The torment of an EMH.
"I just don't see why B'Elanna couldn't find a way for my program to exist beyond the holographic confines of this room!" the Doctor stated with an overdramatic tone to Kes as she worked at proofing a PADD report for him.
"I'm sure she spent a lot of time trying to find a solution," Kes offered in a calm tone, smiling at the man who she was beginning to ever-so admire.
"I had to wake her up at 0500 hours, yesterday, to get an answer one way or another. Obviously if it had been a priority, she would have notified me immediately!" he stated as he pushed his rolling chair, from his desk, to a nearby console.
"Doctor," Kes set about stating the facts, "B'Elanna was busy the night before trying to solve the spacial hubs technicalities. I'm sure she used as much time for you as she could spare." Any more of an explanation and Kes wasn't sure if she would hurt one of his emotional subroutines or not.
"Well," the Doctor calmed visibly. "I had wanted to experience shopping for the first time, in the," he paused, "holographic flesh. Especially considering Mr. Neelix negotiated 40,000 pintbics of credit to be distributed to the ship and crew."
"I was surprised he was able to negotiate that much. Now everyone has enough for something, beyond the bare essentials for the trip. I wouldn't be surprised if the Captain made him an Ambassador," Kes smiled happily. She had been close to Neelix for a while, and had known he was a gifted individual -- in a unique sort of way -- but what she hadn't counted on was how they had both blossomed since being on Voyager during only three months.
"Ambassador? I don't think so," the EMH stated without a second thought. "Most unlikely," he added. "Since I won't be able to go shopping with the crew," he smiled at Kes who had secretly shook her head a moment before, "Lieutenant Torres came up with a backup plan that will, for the time being, work just as well."
Kes waited, smiling, for his response, "And what's that?"
"This console is connected to the Hub's online purchasing roster."
"Doctor?"
"Don't you see," he smiled with a huge amount of pleasure, "I can shop from the comfort and safety of my own home -- from Voyager!"
"Are you sure you don't want members of the crew to pick anything up for you?" Kes asked, unsure if ordering via Voyager's computer was a smart thing to do.
"No," he was a stubborn hologram. "I know what I'm doing, Kes."
Even through his words, the young Ocampa Woman had to wonder if that were true.
Lieutenant Tom Paris, Ensign Harry Kim, Ensign Brandon Lebeaux and Lieutenant Ian MacLaren stood before Commander Chakotay, outside of transporter room two. No doubt, they knew what he had to say.
"Let me remind you," Chakotay stated softly, but with an experience in command that was projected through his voice, "that we can not have any problems while the crew is on the hub. That means what, Mr. Paris?"
Tom wondered why everyone always thought he would be the first to cause trouble with anything and everything that they came across during their journey home. He raised his eyes heavenward, "No bars, No alien-beers, no betting and no brawls."
"Thank you," Chakotay smiled, enjoying putting the young, smart pilot on the spot.
"Sure," Tom muttered stoically.
"We have a mission to fulfill," Chakotay stated. "It is imperative that we use this opportunity to buy as many Christmas gifts as necessary."
"Yeah, when's the next time we'll be handed money and a mall, to save our hides from the women on this ship, in the Delta Quadrant?" Tom asked gaining a laugh from the other two men who stood by their side.
"I'm glad you see the importance of this, Mr. Paris," Chakotay eyed him.
Harry spoke up, "Remind me why we're buying as many gifts as we are for women we hardly know?"
"One," Chakotay chuckled, "because they're women. Two, because they're *Starfleet* and *Maquis* women and three," he didn't try to hide the twinkle in his eye, "because if we don't, and Christmas rolls around and Santa fails to deliver -- they can make our duty shifts a living hell."
Harry thought for a moment, "Okay-- but I still don't quite understand. It's the thought that counts . . ."
"No," Tom interjected, "Harry -- it's the *gift* that counts. We're stuck on a ship with these women for what could be possibly seventy years."
"Imagine this," Ensign Brandon spoke up, "there are two options. You get a good gift for the girl you're interested in onboard, you give it to her in three weeks, on Christmas day, and soon afterward you get a kiss, a date . . . maybe something more."
"On the other hand," Lieutenant Ian MacLaren spoke up, "you buy her a cheap Vidiian impression perfume, you smile, and hand it to her, thinking 'it's the thought that counts!' only to have her give you the evil eye, make your life a living hell and tell every other female onboard that you can't even deliver when it counts."
"Ouch," Harry said realizing they spoke honestly of the two possibilities.
"Imagine that last one," Chakotay patted Ensign Kim on the back, "for the next seventy years. Tom, do you have those lists?"
The pilot handed over five PADDS to the Commander, "Ready and waiting."
"What are on all of those?" Harry asked, wondering what he had gotten himself into this time during his hours off.
"We raided the database and now know every personal item a woman would ever want," Chakotay said pleasantly as though it were the best idea in the world.
Harry wasn't so convinced, "Commander? Isn't that dangerous information?"
The men paused, silent with thought.
"Come on, come on!" Caffey tapped her foot impatiently as she waited, outside of her friend's quarters, for the door to open. She looked over her shoulder to watch Ensign Neil Thompson's cute butt round a corner when she was suddenly being dragged into the doorway.
"What took you so long?" Lieutenant Celia asked, threatening a smile as Caffey struggled to balance herself.
"You scared me half to death!!!" Caffey exclaimed, seriously, but in the next second giggled at the humor of it all.
"Well," Celia stated, her mouth forming a firm smile, "in any case . . . I know something you don't know."
Caffey didn't wait a second, "Tell me. Tell me or else I'll hide your 2000 Supergirl Movie Clip!"
"Hey! Not nice! You've been hanging out with Ensign Adrienne too much. and all because she captured your Chakotay doll, too. Anyhow, you know that list I've been circulating via crew PADDS today?" Celia started to explain.
"You mean of the J and C topic," Caffey raised her eyebrows.
"Seems we're not alone in wanting Captain Kathryn Janeway and Commander Chakotay to get together onboard Voyager," she smiled with glee and a twinkle of knowing presented itself in her eyes as she handed the PADD to her friend.
"25 people?! Oh my god!!" Caffey smirked, "Wait, 26 . . . 27 . . 28 . . " she kept listing the numbers that were signing up.
Celia took back the PADD, "29 . . 30 . . and counting. Five minutes ago, I told Ensign Dale Hudson to pass the word around deck eight about the lists. At this rate, we'll have to get ready for more of those stories they're sending out!" She turned to her wardrobe to find something suitable to wear for their shopping expedition with the Captain.
"Who would've thought almost every crew member onboard our ship, for the past three months, has come up with some scenario or another to get our command duo together! My personal favorite," Caffey stated as she sat down on her friend's bed to pick through a jewelry box, "was 'The Captain, The Commander & The Turbolift Org--"
"B'Elanna to Lieutenant Celia," the communication established itself in the room.
"Celia here," she stated in reply.
"With Caffey," Ensign Prillwitz spoke up.
"Are you two ready to go spend some credit or what?" the Klingon woman asked, a bit impatient but with a humorous, dry note in her tone.
Celia pushed the PADD at Caffey as she grabbed her sweater, "Keep good care of this. You never know when that Ensign Braga Behynd might be out to cause trouble."
Caffey took the PADD and put it in her purse, "We should just turn him over to the Borg and be on our merry way."
Kathryn Janeway sat at the small table, inside the circular hub at a small market store, sipping at a cup of alien brewed tea. She watched as various species, who she was still unfamiliar with, walked in groups or by themselves back and forth in front of her. The public arena reminded her of the small coffee and market shops in San Francisco that she had gone to with Mark on numerous mornings before work.
'*Mark . . .*' her mind spun her in the direction of memories and she wondered if she would ever see him again.
Before Kathryn could close her eyes, she noticed a small group of women walking toward her with eagerness in their steps. They were members of her crew and that eagerness, beyond Voyager, surprised Kathryn to say the least. When she had asked B'Elanna if it were possible for her to join the Engineer's group or any group going down to do some pre-holiday shopping she hadn't expected to find herself faced with people who were looking forward to her company.
She admitted to and knew that she was a kind person, an interesting and successful one as well, but when it came to knowing people in Starfleet, her rank always seemed to keep individuals reserved or at a distance from her on a social level.
Reserved and at a distance definitely didn't work with what she saw: Ensign Caffey Prillwitz running toward her table and being followed, quickly, by Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres, Lieutenant Celia, Ensign Annie and Ensign Katie.
"Good morning, Captain! Is that coffee?" Caffey sniffed the air for a hint of aroma. Kathryn Janeway recognized a fellow caffeine addict from a mile away, "At ease, Ensign. It's tea."
"Darn," Caffey muttered as she began to eye other tables that were located outside of the little alien market store.
"Captain! You beat us to the hub," B'Elanna eyed the woman in front of her -- Kathryn Janeway -- her leader and an individual who was quickly becoming her friend.
"Well," Kathryn smiled smugly, "what can I say. Tuvok was heading toward sickbay to alert the Doctor that the Captain was disobeying a 'medical leave of absence.' That's the Captain's terminology for 'a day off.'"
The small group of women laughed.
"Wow," Katie spoke up as she eyed the small PADD she held in her hand. "I downloaded the specifications for the hub, and did you know that it's two miles all the way around?!"
"Everyone have their Dear Santa lists?" Celia grinned as she looked for affirmation from the others.
"Affirmative," Caffey saluted her.
Kathryn pushed herself out of her chair and stood, running her nervous hands over the soft fabric of her civilian dress. "So, where do we --"
Katie squealed, "Oh! I think I see something that looks like nailpolish!"
"--start," Kathryn finished as the young Ensign ran to the store ahead of them.
"She does have 39 replicated bottles of the stuff in her quarters," Annie offered up. "From Phaser Pink to Bolian Blue. It's all there."
Kathryn raised her eyebrows in pure amazement as they all set off to follow.
The Doctor sat in his medlab, humming to himself aloud, as he scrolled through store roster listing after listing.
"A Frungandi Medically approved forehead massager?" he exclaimed with interest. He read the small description and gasped, "I have to have one of those!
It certainly would keep B'Elanna at bay. Now, let's see," he started to push in the information codes for the credit bypass.
"What's this?" he read the small encryption data warning, "'This server load incomplete?'" He looked up from the monitor in thought, "Odd, but the data is all there!" Sighing to himself, he chalked it up to yet another thing B'Elanna Torres would have to fix. With ten complete command codes of information, he entered his credit number, identification and location and smiled knowing that his merchandise would arrive within twenty-four hours.
"Hmm and what's this?" He looked at an ad that sprung to life on his confirmation page, interest dawning on his face, "Burgman Pleasures Unlimited? I wonder what--" Pushing the 'information accept' button, his console was flooded with all sorts of erotic images, "Oh my." He shut his eyes but then leaned in to make sure he had seen right. "Oh my!" He had.
