Disclaimer: Paramount owns them if you recognize them. If not, I made them up.
Reflections from Below
A man and a woman lounged in a bar near Starfleet Headquarters. Since it was after five on a Friday, the bar was fairly crowded. Both wore a deep red tunic and three gold pips, and if their comfortable silence was any indication, they'd known each other for quite some time.
"I'm buying this week. Do you know what you want yet?" The woman looked up and finally broke the silence.
"What's that Andorian stuff that tastes like sweet vodka?"
"Chefdi?"
"Yeah, I'll have one of those."
She left and returned to the table a few minutes later with two glasses.
"Just a pina colada? You're unusually tame this week."
"Working for Janeway has me appreciating good old human classics."
They touched glasses and each took a sip. "Remember the first time I tried this stuff? I thought because Anderson called it 'Andorian vodka' that you drank it like vodka."
"You looked like you drank vinegar." She laughed at the memory.
"So, how's the new boss?"
"Janeway? She's alright, I guess."
"Don't tell the press. They think she's an angel."
"Her crew loves her. Even the Vulcans, although they'd never admit it." She paused and took a long sip of her pina colada. "Most admirals have a couple holos of their family, and then models of ships or something. Janeway has got to have a dozen holos of the Voyager crew."
"Do you like working for her?"
"Beats working for Argtustradk. They tell me that not all Ktarians are that ruthless, and I certainly hope so."
"He made admiral pretty young, though."
"The guy has no life."
"Neither do we."
"Good point." The comfortable silence returned for a moment before she spoke again. "She expects a lot –I think that's required of admirals- but she's fair. She knows that I can't do two dozen things at once. She's a lot more hands-on than Argtustradk, but not in a way that makes me think she doubts my ability to do my job."
"Do you think she trusts you?" They both knew how important trust was to a good working relationship at Headquarters.
"It's only been two weeks."
"First impression, Haley."
She plucked the cherry off the sinking upper layer of her drink and popped it into her mouth before answering. "I think so. She says that she needs me to help her navigate the bureaucracy, and she's already told me to deal with the constant press attention however I deem best."
"That sounds promising."
"Yeah. What I really like, though, is that she values me as a person."
"Wow. Already?"
She shrugged. "She took me out to lunch yesterday, but it didn't feel forced. I mean, she could've been schmoozing with some other brass or working through lunch, but we went to a cozy little British town for fish and chips. She said that she hadn't had decent fish in five years. I wish I could remember what it was called."
"You transported to Britain for lunch?"
"Weird, huh?"
"In a good way."
"We talked, and she actually listened to what I said."
"That must be a welcome change."
"I feel bad for the poor kid who's got Argtustradk now that I've got Janeway."
He swirled the cloudy liquid in his glass around until it was a yellow whirlpool. "Hey, you put in your time. Besides, you've gotta deal with the most famous admiral in memory. The press alone will keep you busy for the next year and a half."
"It's almost a vacation. Trust me."
"So you like her?"
"Yeah. There's one thing that bugs me, though. She doesn't seem to believe that there's such a thing as lost causes."
"Do you?"
"I haven't talked to Lydia in four years, and the last ten years we did talk we never said anything nice. I think that qualifies as a lost cause."
"I don't understand. I mean, you're twins!"
"Maybe that's part of the reason."
"You two will start talking again soon."
"Paul, you've said that for the past four years. You're an eternal optimist."
"Guilty as charged. But don't let it get around. Nechayev would never trust my judgment again."
"I thought you got along with her."
"I do, and I don't want to mess it up."
"Besides, if there's no such thing as lost causes, what do you call your marriage?"
He took a slow sip before answering, knowing her too well to consider the question a low blow. Besides, it had been a long time since the divorce was finalized. "We both gave up. Maybe if we hadn't, things would've been different. What makes you say Janeway doesn't believe in them?"
"Did you hear about Cadet Li?"
"They're kicking her out, right? Smart but thinks the world owes her something. Best weapons specialist in her class but doesn't seem to think the rules apply to her."
"That's the one. Janeway's giving her another chance."
"What?"
"Before classes start every Wednesday and Thursday, she meets with her. I don't know what the heck they do, but Li's still in, and Josephine told me that her resident assistant hasn't had any complaints about her since they started. Of course, it's only been two weeks."
"I'd like to know why, what, and how."
"Wouldn't we all."
He shook his head. "They say that she's unorthodox."
"Aren't all great leaders?"
"Maybe that's why we never even left Earth."
"You didn't leave Earth because you don't like transporting."
"What's your excuse?"
"Do I need one?"
"Only if you want one."
"Nah. I don't need one."
He downed the last of his drink. "Doing anything tonight?"
"No. You?"
"Am I ever? Wait, don't answer that. Another round?"
"Only if it's stronger this time."
When he came back, he did something unusual and spoke before touching his glass to hers. "To the idea that lost causes don't exist."
"To eternal optimism," she replied, and they both smiled before drinking.