August 29, 1995

Just for fun. "No matter what happens, we'll make it. Remember that." Those were the good old days, weren't they?

AFTER "THE 37'S"
by Laura Williams

Janeway leaned on the door buzzer again. Still no response. She started to reach for her communicator, then thought better of it; if Chakotay was in his quarters, he obviously did not want to be disturbed. And if he was in another part of the ship, she'd go to him there.

"Computer," she said, "locate Commander Chakotay."

"Commander Chakotay is currently located in the hydroponic garden."

Janeway nodded once and set out in the appropriate direction. Chakotay was checking up on the planting, no doubt, monitoring the progress of Kes and the team of volunteers who had gathered seedlings and bulbs from the planet's surface. She should have checked in on them herself hours ago, but routine ship's business had intervened. And in her absence, she knew, Chakotay would peek in on them from time to time. Janeway smiled to herself. He would probably also insist on helping with the process, digging into the soil and placing each precious bulb with his own hands. Likely he was fussing over each individual plant, assuring himself that they had been set correctly, worrying about parasites and insects and unidentifiable diseases. She imagined him hovering over a bed of vines and smiled, suspecting that was how she would find him.

Either that, or collecting a midnight snack.

In any case, she intended to find him and thank him for his calm support during the past few hours. He had gone well beyond the call of duty to assuage her doubts and make her feel less isolated from her crew. Less isolated from him as well. Crisis upon crisis seemed to interfere between them, so that neither could give full attention to the friendship she felt was about to blossom. But his kind words -- "You're not alone," "We'll make it" -- and the light touch of his hand on her shoulder had gone a long way toward reestablishing the kind of easy relationship she knew they might eventually have, at the same time easing her fear that they might lose someone to those lovely, strangely familiar cities and the human touch they promised. She needed to thank him for his insight, and for his friendship.

The corridors seemed curiously deserted to Janeway, the turbolift ride quiet and almost lonely. She stepped out onto the deck and wondered where her crew had gone. Normally at this time of night she would have seen Alpha shift personnel returning to their quarters after passing the evening in the holodeck or galley, Beta shift personnel hurrying off to collect their dinner. But there was no one, and the quiet left her feeling oddly empty and alone.

She did not know when she had first started to hear the sounds, or why she had identified them as the sounds of a party in progress. But as she drew closer to the garden the sounds grew louder -- clinking glasses, animated conversation and laughter, even soft music. She paused at the last bend in the corridor, not wanting to intrude on a private gathering. But as she rounded the corner she saw that the door to the garden had been locked open, and that the party was happening inside. Puzzled, she hesitantly stepped through the door.

A wave of the garden's warmth and humidity hit her full in the face, and with it the smell of dirt and growing things. And food, something unidentifiable but sweet and appealing. The garden was packed -- she suspected more than half of the crew complement had found their way in to the party. They were crowded around the large beds of vines and fruit-bearing bushes, gathered in the pathways Chakotay and Kes had constructed when designing the layout of the garden. It was normally a place of quiet contemplation, but now it was full of noise and excitement, jammed to bursting with smiling people.

Janeway did not know what had inspired the party, but found herself grateful that it had begun. She basked in the warmth and good feelings for a moment longer, then decided to withdraw from the garden, knowing she had not been specifically invited. She started to take a step backward, but a figure materialized at her elbow, a quiet voice touched her ear.

"Captain! I was just coming to look for you."

She turned and peered up into the calm, smiling face of her first officer. "What's going on here, Commander?" she asked. "I'm not sure. I came down to check on the planting and see if anything was ripe enough to eat yet, and the party was already in progress."

"Who planned it?"

He shrugged. "No one. Kes says it just happened -- she and the volunteers were putting the last of the seedlings in beds when people started coming in to visit the garden. They called their friends, and before long..." He shook his head. "I think they're all just happy that everyone remained on the ship."

"So am I."

"I know. People were asking where you were, so I was coming to find you. I thought you should see this."

She nodded. "Yes, Commander. I wouldn't have wanted to miss it."

He pressed a glass of something light green into her hand. "Here, try this. It tastes a little like orange juice."

She stared down into the glass skeptically. "What is it?"

"Neelix squeezed some of the fruit John Evansville gave us. I forget the name. Try it, I think you'll like it." He raised his own glass and drank to demonstrate, then smacked his lips and grinned.

She rolled her eyes at him, but took a cautious sip of the juice, cold and sweet. "Not too bad," she said. "Did we bring back seeds for this fruit, too?"

He nodded. "The trees may grow to be too tall for this bay, but if we let them go for a few years and then trim them carefully after they bear fruit the first time..." She looked at him sharply and his voice trailed off. "I'm sorry," he said.

She looked away from him and shook her head. "Don't be. It pays to make long-term plans. We could get back tomorrow and not need this fruit. But if we don't..." She took a long drink. "This will be nice to wake up to every morning, won't it?"

He took a hard look at her and finally nodded. "Yes, it will," he said soberly.

She turned her face up to him, intending to thank him for his earlier camaraderie when Neelix darted in between them. "Captain!" he cried. "Kes and I were wondering where you were. Care for a snack?" He held out a tray covered with numerous small baked goods.

Her eyes widened. "Are those chocolate chip cookies?" The little man beamed proudly. "Indeed they are, Captain. I downloaded the recipe from the ship's database. Mister Noonan specifically asked for them, and so... Try one!"

She plucked one from the tray and bit into it. It crumbled in her hands, the sweetness spreading across her tongue. She looked up at Chakotay in surprise. "These actually taste almost like chocolate chip cookies!" she exclaimed, and Chakotay laughed softly.

Neelix held out the tray to him. "Have one, Commander. Don't worry, they're vegetarian. I made a few substitutions, of course, and the chocolate is replicated, but I thought an occasion like this might be worth the extra effort."

Chakotay nodded, wiping crumbs from his uniform. "They're delicious, Neelix. Thank you."

Neelix's chest puffed out even more than usual. "Thank you, Commander, Captain." He sighed and gazed up at the ceiling. "It's too bad the 37s decided to stay on the planet. They really appreciated my cooking." He turned and scurried away.

"Of course they did," Chakotay whispered to her. "They'd been asleep for 400 years."

Janeway laughed out loud, scattering cookie crumbs into the air and nearly spilling her juice. Chakotay's free hand darted out and intercepted her glass, wrapping around both it and her hand. "Careful," he chided. "We don't want the Captain swabbing the deck while the rest of us enjoy ourselves."

"Yes, I suppose that would look odd, wouldn't it?" She checked the front of her uniform for signs of a spill, then looked up at him. At first she didn't know what he was looking at, then realized that he was staring at their hands, curled together around her juice glass. His expression was unreadable. "Commander?"

He shook himself all over and pulled his hand away, took a deep breath. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

She nodded. "This reminds me of garden parties in the spring."

"It makes home seem much less far away, doesn't it?"

"Yes." She glanced around the room at her crew, smiling and relaxing in small groups -- B'Elanna and Harry, Jarvin and his lover, Tom and a whole group of young women. "It's good to see them having a good time together."

"I hoped something like this would happen eventually. They had to decide to stay on this ship and focus on the journey. This will bring us together more than any training or drills we might think up. And now this party just happening... They need this." He glanced down at her. "So do you."

She closed her eyes. "I know. I needed them to show me they believe in me."

He chuckled lightly. "Actually, I meant you need to get out of your quarters and be with the crew more. But did you ever really doubt that they believed in you?"

Janeway looked away from him. "Sometimes..."

He reached out, turned her to face him. The touch of his hand was familiar this time, comforting, even though she felt eyes -- real or imagined -- lock on them from all over the room. "You have no reason to doubt that we believe in you. All of us." She searched his face and found complete honesty there. She started to thank him, but his hand fell away and he glanced over the room.

"Right now," he said, "I think you should talk to them."

"Really?"

He nodded. "Just a few words -- a gesture to bring everything and everyone together."

She followed his gaze and saw that many of them had indeed turned to face her. His instincts regarding their crew, she realized, were nearly always correct. He was more observant, more sensitive to their moods than she could ever be. "You're right," she said, and turned reluctantly away from him. A few meters away from him she mounted a low pallet, and turned to their crew. A warm hush fell over the room.

Janeway studied each of their faces, turned up to her expectantly. For a moment she hesitated, not quite knowing what to say, then raised her chin.

"I want to thank you," she said, "for staying. I know it was a difficult decision for some of you."

Jarvin, the former Maquis officer, stepped forward. "Thank you for allowing us to make it, Captain." All around the garden, other crewmembers nodded and murmured their agreement.

Janeway smiled. "It was your right, not mine. I honestly thought some of you would stay behind. But by remaining with the ship, you have shown me..." She stopped and shook her head slightly. "You have shown me that you believe in this journey as much as I do. We have to keep going, keep believing that..." She glanced down at Chakotay. "That no matter what happens, we'll make it," she said. "Remember that."

Chakotay's eyes widened with recognition, then he nodded, accepting her use of his words.

Janeway raised her glass. "A toast," she began, "to the 37s. And to...to us. The 71s."

A ripple of subdued amusement passed over the crew as they drank. Janeway met Chakotay's eyes over the rim of her glass. He did not drink, but stared at her intently. She cocked her head at him and raised an eyebrow in silent question.

He met her eyes across the room and smiled. "Thank you," he mouthed.

Janeway shook her head. "No, thank you."

He raised his chin, then lifted his glass to her. "To us."

Even though she knew she couldn't possibly make out his words over the quiet conversations and the clinking of glasses and plates, she seemed to hear his soft voice in her ears. She raised her glass as well, smiling down at him, disregarding the many eyes that must be fastened on them both. "To us," she repeated, and drank with him.