Author's Note: This story is not my usual fare. It is super sappy, and I honestly NEVER thought I would write a Voyager Christmas story. So, consider this my own personal indulgence because I was feeling reflective myself. I was also inspired by Shonetta's Christmas Angel, and by writing a diatribe earlier today on VAMB about what J/C means to me. I am not a religious person, but the quote from Luke is one of my favorite Bible quotes. Mostly, this story is about what I want to believe is possible... and what better time to explore that question than Christmas?
Blessed Is She
...
"And blessed is she that believed: for there shall be a performance of those things which were told her from the Lord."
-Luke 1:45
...
Christmas Eve, 2345
"I want to make an angel! Kathryn, move over!" Phoebe pushed at her sister, and Kathryn nearly fell off the stool that boosted her up so that she was tall enough to stand at the counter.
"Phoebe, don't push me!"
"Your starship cookie cutter is stupid. I want to make angels and snowflakes," said Phoebe petulantly.
"You'll get your turn," Kathryn replied, trying to sound as patient and commanding as her mother did when she told her younger sister what to do. At this, Phoebe began to pout and looked like she was about to cry. As her sister's lip began to quiver, Kathryn relented. "All right. You can have your turn now." She stepped down from the stool, which she barely even needed anymore, and let her sister have a turn. Kathryn was ten years old; Phoebe was six, and they were helping their mother make Christmas cookies.
"That was very nice of you, Kathryn," said Gretchen Janeway. Kathryn turned quickly; she hadn't even noticed her mother standing in the doorway. Outwardly she shrugged, but inwardly, she beamed at the praise.
"When is Daddy coming home?" Kathryn asked.
Her mother sighed. "He hopes he'll be home tonight," she said, "but we shouldn't count on it."
Kathryn's face fell. As far as she was concerned, the best thing about the holidays was that Daddy was always home for a few days. If she got a new science kit or model, he would sit patiently with her and help her put it together. Phoebe always got toys and paints as gifts; things that she didn't need Daddy's help with, but Kathryn relished it when her Christmas gifts were activities that she could share with her father. "He will be home in time for Christmas, right?"
"He's going to try his best, sweetheart," her mother replied.
Kathryn sighed. She knew that this was what it meant to be the daughter of a Starfleet admiral, and as frustrated as she was by his absence, she was also incredibly proud of her father and his position in Starfleet. She dreamed of being a Starfleet officer herself someday; maybe a science officer aboard a deep space vessel, or, someday, aboard the Federation flagship.
When the cookies had finished baking, Gretchen whipped up some frosting and created several different colors which she set in small dishes before the girls, along with an assortment of sprinkles and candies to use for decorations. Kathryn watched in envy as Phoebe created elaborate designs on gingerbread men, angels, snowflakes and trees. Phoebe was only six, and Kathryn thought that her cookies should look better than the ones her younger sister decorated. But they didn't. Sitting back in her chair, Kathryn examined her cookies next to her sister's. Phoebe's were delicate, artfully designed; the colors and lines always looked just right. Kathryn's were boring, plain and clumsy-looking. She stood from the table and walked over to the kitchen window, peering up at it, looking out at the stars. Somewhere out there was her father. Somewhere out there were worlds to be discovered, adventures to be had. Somewhere out there were missions that were far more important than sitting in the kitchen, decorating cookies. Somewhere out there was the great unknown, and in it, Kathryn's future.
...
Christmas Eve, 2376
Kathryn Janeway's mind slowly returned to the present, as the memory of baking cookies with her mother and sister faded. Her father hadn't made it home for Christmas that year, or the year after. Tensions between the Federation and the Caradassians had begun to escalate around that time, and Admiral Edward Janeway had been caught smack dab in the middle of it. Christmas had stopped holding much wonder and excitement for young Kathryn after that year; not that she hadn't enjoyed the holiday, but it lost some of its magic. The Janeway household had never been a religious one, and Kathryn had never put any stock in the ancient stories surrounding Christmas. As far as she was concerned, the story of the birth of a savior was a myth, and many of the cultures she had visited and encountered had similar stories of their own.
It had been a long time since she had read the myth of Mary and Joseph, the wise men, the shepherds and the star shining in the sky guiding her course. But tonight, she found herself reading it. As she read, she longed for the clarity of a simpler time. Chuckling, she tried to imagine what would happen if an angel suddenly appeared on Voyager's bridge, telling her what course to set; or if a bright star suddenly appeared in the sky, leading her ship and her crew home. She shook her head, closing the book. These were just stories, fabrications, myths. Things didn't really happen that way.
Kathryn stood from her chair and made her way over to the window, where she often stood to watch the stars whizzing by. As a child, she had looked up into the sky, imagining that this was a place of untold wonder, where her destiny lay. Well, that's one thing I was right about, she thought wryly. My destiny did lie among the stars. I just never thought I'd end up quite so far from home.
But things never go the way you plan. She had learned this time and time again, and as the years went by, and she grew older, she found herself becoming less and less willing to believe in anything, or anyone. She didn't often indulge in these types of reflections, but something about the holidays made her feel pensive. Some years on Voyager, the holiday slipped by without her even noticing; those were the years when she was busy battling the Kazon, the Vidiians, the Borg; trying to circumvent hostile territory or extract the ship from the clutches of an uncharted anomaly. But this year, everything was quiet. There were no battles to fight. She didn't need to be on the bridge, saving her crew from disaster. So she stood, in her quarters, watching the stars, allowing herself a few moments of reflection.
She closed her eyes. She never allowed herself to dream anymore about what she might want for herself, for her future. She had spent much of her youth imagining exactly what her future would be like; always looking forward, always planning her next step. But having Voyager's exile thrust upon her had changed all that. Here, her future would consist of whatever was demanded of her, whatever was necessary to complete her mission. What she wanted or dreamed of was, as Seven would say, irrelevant. So she didn't allow herself to think of it, to wonder, or to dream. She focused on the tasks at hand, the necessary work, and the well-being of her crew. She would be fine.
A sudden thought struck her; that perhaps the legend of Christmas had more bearing on her own life than she had thought. Mary, too, was saddled with a life and a responsibility that she had not chosen; she, too, had to make a journey of necessity - a journey homeward. Kathryn smiled wryly. She hardly saw herself as the mother of a savior, but she did sometimes feel like she was mother to a hundred and fifty crew members. As she thought of each of those a hundred and fifty people, she felt her melancholy start to melt away. She didn't believe in miracles, or angels, or saviors, or gifts from some sort of god. But she did believe in her crew, and she knew that she would do whatever it took to get them home; all of them.
...
Christmas Eve, 2389
Kathryn placed one last present under the Christmas tree and smiled to herself. She had been thinking earlier that day about a Christmas Eve aboard Voyager when she had felt particularly hopeless; a night that she had wavered, had almost allowed her melancholy to overcome her. But she had found a renewed sense of purpose that night; one that had stayed with her until Voyager burst into the Alpha Quadrant in a blaze of glory. Voyager; it seemed like another lifetime.
She stepped back, looking at the tree and the collection of presents underneath it. Her family would be arriving soon, she knew, and the house would be bustling with the noises of Phoebe's children. She had saved the final batch of cookies for them to decorate, although she was sure that Phoebe would be a far more apt supervisor of that activity than she would. She heard footsteps on the stairway and turned around to see Chakotay, dressed handsomely in a dark suit, descending the stairs. He walked over to her and pulled her into his arms, running his hands over the silky, forest green material of her dress. "You look beautiful, my love," he said softly as he lowered his lips to hers for a kiss.
"You don't look so bad yourself," she quipped, giving him a wink as she broke away from his embrace walked over to the window to look out at the stars.
He followed her, wrapping his arms around her from behind. "What are you thinking?" he asked.
She chuckled. "Why do I have to be thinking something?"
"When you walk over to the window and look out at the stars, you're always thinking about something. You did it on Voyager, too."
Leaning back into his embrace, she said, "You know me too well."
"Eighteen years of living side by side with someone usually has that effect."
She exhaled softly. "Has it been that long?"
She felt him nod against her. He leaned down and kissed her neck. "So? What were you thinking, my beautiful Captain?"
"I'm not your Captain, anymore, Chakotay. I'm not even a Captain."
"You'll always be my Captain." She could just imagine the impish grin on his face when he said it, and she tried to think of a saucy retort, but he pulled her close and the moment grew serious again.
"I was thinking of a Christmas Eve on Voyager when I almost gave up hope," she said softly.
"But you didn't," he said against her ear. "What changed your mind?"
"I knew I had to get Voyager home," she said. "I knew that if I stopped believing we would get home, we were lost. If I didn't believe, no one else would."
He turned her around, so they were facing each other; his arms around her waist, hers over his shoulders. He ran his hands up and down the silky fabric of her dress, relishing the feel of it, as he looked deeply into her eyes. He knew what their years aboard Voyager had cost her, but he also knew that often, it had been her unwavering belief that had saved them all. He smiled at her, tears shining in his eyes. He could not put words to the thoughts in his mind, but if he could have they would have been: Blessed is she that believed.
She leaned towards him, running her hands through his hair, bringing her lips to his. Don't look at me that way, Chakotay, she thought. I didn't save anyone. It was all of us, together, that did it in the end. But you, Chakotay, you saved me. And that is what I believe.