Memory Lane by Bec
Disclaimer : The character's from Voyager, and Shannon Janeway aren't mine, they're all Paramount's. And Gretchen and Phoebe aren't mine either. But Tracie and the others are all my creations.
Authors Note : I have *no* idea where this came from. It's about Kathryn teaching her granddaughter Tracie about the family history. It's J/C in parts, but it isn't just J/C, it does mention her other fiancee's, Justin and Mark. People who know me, won't be surprised to know that it doesn't contain any mention of Michael Sullivan whatsoever. Feedback is more than welcome.
Kathryn Janeway sighed, and rocked gently in her old rocking chair. She watched as her 16-year-old granddaughter, Tracie, moved around the room, watering various plants, and dusting small ornaments Kathryn had collected over the years.
Tracie turned around to see her Grandmother looking at her in a peculiar way. "Grandma? What is it? Do you need something?" she asked. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing dear," Kathryn said, smiling. "Just thinking how much you look like your Granddad."
Tracie blushed. "Thanks," she said. "Auntie B'Elanna says the same, every time she meets me, without fail, it's 'You really do resemble Chakotay.' She always says that, Grandma."
"Her memory isn't what it used to be," Kathryn said. "But then, neither is mine."
She sighed, and snuggled down in her chair, deep underneath the blanket covering her body. "Tracie, can I trouble you for a cup of coffee?"
"Grandma," Tracie said in a warning tone. "You know that the Doctor says that isn't good for you."
"Fine," Kathryn gave up. "Then I'll have a cup of cocoa."
"That's more like it," Tracie said, rushing off to replicate it.
Kathryn looked around the room at her various photos, and sighed. She still had many photos of Chakotay, after all this time. And some of B'Elanna and Tom in their younger days, before Tom had died. And then there were the numerous photos of her three daughters, Marianna, Selena, and Charlotte. And then came the pictures of her grandchildren. Marianna's boys, Selena's only daughter, Tamara, and of course, Charlotte's daughter, Tracie.
Tracie had come to live with Kathryn shortly after her birth. Charlotte's husband, Brian, had been killed in a small battle against the borg. Not assimilated, killed. And Charlotte was terminally ill during her pregnancy. She had been lucky to live, just to hold Tracie in her arms, and whisper, "It's a girl. A beautiful, beautiful girl."
Kathryn remembered it like it was yesterday. She could remember few things these days, but she never forgot important memories. Like the day Charlotte died. And the day Tracie Elizabeth Janeway had come to live with her.
Tracie re-entered the room with the cup of cocoa, disturbing Kathryn's walk down memory lane. She put the cup down on a small table next to Kathryn's rocking chair.
"There you are, Grandma," Tracie said, smiling. "Drink that, and then you'd better get to bed."
Kathryn had to stop herself from laughing. "It's like you're the grown-up, Tracie."
Tracie giggled. "Oh well," she said. "I am...in a few years anyway."
Kathryn smiled. Tracie practically was an adult. She was responsible, sensible. Nothing like Kathryn had been at that age. Tracie was a trustworthy girl, sweet and affectionate. Kathryn knew she had brought the girl up well.
"Tracie," she said. "Will you go bring me my keepsake box?"
"Sure," Tracie said, surprised that her Grandma wanted it now. She knew that Kathryn had kept the keepsake box for most of her life, since she was 14, anyway. She placed in it special pictures, and she kept a small diary that she wrote in once a year. And also, anything else important went in there. But Kathryn only ever wanted it to put things in.
Tracie was slightly confused, as there had been nothing happening recently, so there was nothing new to put in the keepsake box. No wedding pictures, no visits from old friends to write about. Still, she took the box down from on top of the shelves in the dining room, and brought the medium sized box into Kathryn's room.
"Here you go, Grandma," Tracie said, passing the wooden box into Kathryn's waiting arms. She paused for a minute, while Kathryn opened the box, and started looking through. "Why did you want the box?"
Kathryn looked at her daughter, and motioned the the small cushioned chair next to her own. "Sit down, my dear," she said. "I've just realised I've never shown you my keepsake box, and as you're going to inherit it, I may as well show you it."
Tracie's jaw dropped. "I inherit it?" she asked. "But Grandma, I thought Aunt Marianna is going to get it."
"She won't appreciate it as much as you," Kathryn explained firmly. "Besides, you've nursed me faithfully, and stayed with me, when you could have gone to live with any of your aunt's when I became ill. And you're my sole companion and friend, Tracie. You deserve the keepsake box."
"But Grandma," Tracie said, beginning to protest again. "There are things in there that are worth a fortune. The ruby necklace? That's so old, and it's worth so much. I can't inherit that much."
"Like it or not, you're getting it," Kathryn said firmly. She had never lost her stubborness. "Tracie, I really want you to have the box. It would mean so much to me if you get it when I die. Please?"
Tracie looked at her Grandmother's pleading eyes. "OK," she agreed. "But why do you need it out now?"
"Because even though you'll inherit it," Kathryn began. "It will mean nothing to you if you don't know the history behind everything in here. And one day, I intend for you to pass this on to your own daughter, granddaughter or niece, and to tell them the same stories that I'm going to tell you." She passed the box over to Tracie. "Open it," she urged the young girl.
Tracie admired the box for a second. It was about as long as from her elbow to her fingertips, and quite wide. It was made of a beautiful dark wood, and had the name 'Kathryn Janeway' inscribed in gold on the lid. Tracie slowly pulled the lid up, and looked inside. The box was lined with a green material that had a velvet feel. Inside there were necklaces, old fashioned letters, and items of all shapes and sizes.
Kathryn reached over her daughter's shoulder, and pulled out a small, thin book, bound in leather. "This," she explained. "Is my diary. Every year, on December the 10th, since I was 14, I have written a small entry, and have kept it to this day." She stopped. "I don't want you to read this. Not yet. When I die, you may read it, but not until then. I trust you not to read it, Tracie."
"OK, Grandma," Tracie agreed. "I won't read it until you pass away. I promise."
Kathryn smiled. "Good girl," she said. "I know you won't. Now," she said, gesturing to the box. "Let's get started. Each object in this box is special. It has a value, a story to tell."
Tracie looked at the box in awe. There were so many pretty things. "Are they all yours?" she asked.
"In a way," Kathryn said. "They all currently belong to me. But some belonged to ancestors, important people within my family. For instance," she said, gesturing to the bundle of letters. "These, are all letters sent between two of my ancestors, Thomas O'Donnel and Marion O'Donnel. Thomas O'Donnel was in the army in the 1960's, and they wrote letters to each other, there was no other way to communicate..."
* * * * *
Marion O'Donnel sat quietly in her living room, staring at the clock, willing it to move forward, just another small number. After a few seconds had passed, it changed. It was now 10 to 9. She sighed, and continued staring at the clock. Still ten minutes until the postman visited her house. 'How will I survive?' she asked herself.
"Mummy?" a small voice came from behind her. Marion turned around.
"Good morning, sweetheart," she greeted her 3-year-old daughter. "Did you sleep well?" she asked, as she scooped young Beth into her arms.
"It was nice," Beth said, as she snuggled into her mother's arms. "Can I have some breakfast please, Mummy?"
Marion checked the clock. 9 minutes to 9. She decided that was long enough to make breakfast for Beth. "Yes, what would you like?"
"I don't know," Beth said, reaching for the teddy bear she had dropped on the floor.
"Porridge? Toast?" Marion asked her.
Beth thought for a minute. "Porridge, please," she said. Marion lay her daughter on the sofa, as she went into the kitchen, and began to make the porridge.
Within 5 minutes, Beth was contently eating her porridge, and Marion had resumed her staring at the clock. She sighed, and picked up her embroidery. She was making a small picture to frame, and put on Beth's wall, and sewing was good to pass the time.
She continued sewing for a few more minutes, until she heard the tell-tale squeal of the gate, a sure sign that the postman had arrived. Marion leapt up from her chair, and ran towards the front door. She opened it, just as the postman was approaching.
"Morning, Miss Marion, ma'am," he greeted her politely.
"Morning Bernie," Marion said in reply.
"Expecting a letter?" Bernie asked, retrieving a letter addressed to Marion in Thomas's writing, and passing it to her.
Marion squealed excitedly. "Thank you Bernie," she said, shutting the door, and racing back into the living room, where Beth was solemly eating her porridge.
"Look Beth," Marion said, happily, waving the unopened letter in front of her daughter's blue eyes.
Beth's eyes lit up. "Is it Daddy's letter?" she asked.
"Yes," Marion said. She scooped Beth onto her lap, placed the half-finished bowl of porridge on the floor, and tore open the letter.
"Dear Marion and Bethy," she read out loud. "How are you? As you may have seen from the postcode, I'm writing this letter from France. We're doing some special training over here, just for a month or two. We get back on December the 21st, so I'll be home for Christmas, and hopefully for Bethy's birthday." At this, Beth smiled, excitedly.
Marion continued reading. "I hope you are both well. I have been hearing some dreadful rumors about there being a lot of illness in England this year, from our doctor, so wrap up warmly as it grows colder, both of you, that's what we've been told to do."
"Bethy, thank you for getting Mummy to write down your letter to me, as you told her what to say. It was certainly a nice surprise to receive a letter from my special Angel, and I can't wait until you're old enough to send me letters that you have written."
"Marion, my darling, I'll see you when I get leave at Christmas. Take care, both of you. Love, Thomas."
Beth sighed, and looked at the letter, gazing at all the small letters she knew were words, but didn't understand.
"Just a short letter," Marion observed. "Well, I suppose he is busy, and postage must cost much more from France." She sighed, picked up the letter, and moved to the wooden cabinet in the corner. She opened a cupboard, and placed the letter on a pile of letters, her collection of letters from Thomas.
She sighed.
* * * * *
"It must have been so much fun to get a letter back then," Tracie said. "The excitement of waiting for one, and then actually getting it, and writing a reply."
"It wasn't very efficient," Kathryn told her. "But I agree, it certainly must have been an enjoyable experience."
Tracie looked at the bundle of letters in the box. "So what happened to Marion, and Beth?" she asked, curious.
"Marion had 2 more daughters," Kathryn said. "Twins. Shannon and Augusta. Beth grew up into a fine young lady, married a wealthy doctor, and had a good life. Marion and Thomas both died at quite an old age. Shannon became a schoolteacher, but her twin sister Augusta died at about 5-years-old."
"That's awful," Tracie said. "Poor Augusta."
"I have a photo of her somewhere," Kathryn said, routling through the box. "Ah! Here it is." She pulled the photo out. "It's Shannon and Augusta when they were about 4. With their big sister Beth, who was about 10."
Tracie gazed at the photograph. Augusta and Shannon were holding hands, both with identical ringlets. And Beth, their big sister, standing protectively over them with a big smile on her face, her long hair cascading down her back.
"Which one do you think was our ancestor?" Kathryn asked suddenly.
"I'm not sure," Tracie said. "I can't see any resembelance to either me or you in Shannon or Beth."
"Shannon," Kathryn said. "Shannon was our ancestor. She became a schoolteacher when she was 19, for a little while. She married, and her surname became Janeway. She had two daughters, Hannah and Bella. Hannah was our ancestor, but I can't find out what happened to Bella. My guess is that after her mother passed away, she changed her name."
"Possibly," Tracie said, eagerly rummaging through the box. She loved history, and especially hearing tales of her own family, and her ancestors. "Hang on," she said, suddenly realising something. "Was she *the* Shannon Janeway? I heard you mention her once."
"You don't miss a thing, do you?" Kathryn said, shaking her head, amazed at Tracie's intellingence. "I was just going to tell you. Yes, she was Shannon O'Donnel."
"I thought so," Tracie said. She pulled out a small, golden locket from the keepsake box. "It's beautiful," she said, admiring the beautiful locket, with the beautiful patterns of some birds, with some jewels on the front. She turned to her Grandma, her eyes shining. "Will you tell me the story behind this one?" she asked. "Please?"
Kathryn nodded. "It's a very old piece of jewelry, with a very long story. And it has a very sad and romantic tale attatched to it. It dates back to the 1800's..."
* * * * *
"Isabella, you are not to see that gentleman again, do I make myself clear?" Hannah Keith said with determination. "You will not speak to him, look at him, or as much as think about him. Is that understood?"
'You can't control my thoughts,' Isabella thought, rebelliously. "Yes, Mother," she said, sulkily. "May I be excused?"
"Yes," Hannah decided. "Marie," she motioned to their French maid to approach. "Escort Miss Isabella to her room, please."
Isabella Keith didn't wait to be escorted. She leapt up from her chair, and ran out of the room. Isabella climbed the stairs, and ran into her room. She flung herself onto her bed, crying loudly. She couldn't bear this.
"I don't care," she whispered to no one but herself and her pet kitten. "I don't care if he's a poor gentleman. He works hard, and he loves me." She paused, and then, dramatically cried out, "he loves me."
The door opened, and Isabella's sister Catherine crept in.
"What's wrong, Isabella?" she asked anxiously, sitting down on the bed, and putting an arm around her younger sister. "What is it?"
"Everything," Isabella sobbed. "Mother won't allow me to see Daniel Janeway. But he loves me, and he works hard. And he's truthful and honest, and good and kind...isn't that better than being rich, Catherine? Mother always says that, but then why won't she allow me to see him, even when he has all of those qualities in abundance?"
"Shhhh," Catherine said, comforting her sister. "She won't let you because he isn't rich, Isabella. She thinks you can make a better match, a rich man, who can make you happy, and afford to give you fine gowns and a lovely home."
"I don't care!" Isabella yelled, throwing herself back down onto the bed. "I love Daniel. And he loves me, Catherine. I want to spend the rest of my life with him, until death do us part."
"You know she won't let you," Catherine said. "So you may as well stop thinking about it, and upsetting yourself."
"I won't," Isabella said, stubbornly. "I won't, Catherine. And if you're going to oppose true love, then you can get out of my room this instant."
Catherine stood up and left the room, pulling the door firmly shut behind her. Isabella felt suddenly sorry that she had said such harsh words to her sister. But, it was said now. And Catherine would soon get over it.
Feeling suddenly bored, and cooped up, she moved over to the window. Outside it was snowing. The trees were covered in snow, and it looked almost magical. Feeling brave, she grabbed her shawl, and put it on. She flung open the door to her balcony, and stepped out into the white, crisp snow. She sighed as snowflakes filled the air around her.
She looked around. The snow was so beautiful. But suddenly, she heard a voice.
"Isabella?"
Isabella would know that voice anywhere. She looked down, and there he was.
"Daniel?" she cried. "Daniel, is it really you?"
"Yes," he said. "Ssh, not so loud. Your Mother might hear us."
"She's forbidden me to see you," Isabella said. "But I don't care. I love you Daniel. And I'm going to see you."
"I love you too," Daniel said. "But we can't see each other, Isabella, your Mother won't allow it. I've come here to say goodbye."
"No," Isabella cried, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. "I won't. I won't say goodbye. Never. I hate goodbyes."
"How about Au Revoir?" Daniel suggested.
"Until we meet again," Isabella translated in a low voice. "No. I won't say any sort of a goodbye, because there shan't be one."
"Isabella, you know we can't see each other," Daniel said softly. "Your Mother wants you to marry someone rich. That's not me, and we both know it."
"I don't care," Isabella said stubbornly. "I won't marry anyone but you, Daniel, even if I have to kill myself."
"That's a little drastic, Isabella," Daniel said. "You won't dare."
"Won't I?" Isabella asked him.
"Isabella, I've got to go," Daniel said suddenly. "Someone's coming." And with that, he disappeared into the bushes.
Isabella Keith sighed, and went back inside. She flung herself on her bed, alarming the poor kitten once more. Then an idea struck her. She went over to her wardrobe, and pulled out a small bag. In it, she put only essential things. Another dress, her diary, and a few other items. She had made up her mind. She would leave at night.
Catherine re-entered the room. Isabella wasn't quick enough to throw the bag under her bed without Catherine noticing.
"Isabella?" she asked. "What's happening?"
"Catherine, you have to promise not to tell a soul," Isabella said.
"I promise," Catherine said. Isabella trusted her sister.
"I'm going to marry Daniel Janeway."
"Isabella Keith!" Catherine had never been so surprised in her life. "What do you mean you're going to marry him?"
"I mean, I'm eloping," Isabella told her. "I'm going to leave tonight, and walk into the town. I can find some accomadation for a few nights. He will meet me there, and I will find a vicar to marry us."
Catherine sat down on the bed, still in shock. "But what will Mother say?" was all she could manage to ask. "You're only 16."
"Probably quite a bit," giggled Isabella. "But I doubt she'll have me back in the house after this. I'll live with Daniel."
Catherine thought for a moment. "I wish you all the happiness in the world," she said sincerely. "If you're got your mind set on doing this, then I won't stop you, Isabella."
"Thank you," Isabella said, gratefully. "You won't tell Mother, will you?"
"Of course not," Catherine said, leaving the room.
That afternoon was a busy one for Isabella Keith. She wrote a small note to Daniel, telling him about the planned elopement, and persuaded her maid, Marie, to send it to him. Then she had to double check she had packed all that she would be likely to want or need. She couldn't take much, so Catherine agreed to store everything that Isabella needed her to, so that it would be safe.
Isabella crept slowly down the stairs. She could hear the maids talking in the servant's room, which meant they weren't roaming the house. And she knew her parents were in bed.
It was 3 am. The journey to town would take at least 3 hours. By then, people would be awake, and Isabella hoped she would be able to find boarding omewhere.
She slowly opened the door, and crept outside. Then she shut it quietly behind her.
"Isabella?"
Isabella turned around to see her sister, Catherine, sitting on the doorstep. "Catherine?"
"I've been waiting for you," Catherine said. "You didn't think I'd let my baby sister walk to town by herself on a night like this, did you?"
"Thank you," Isabella said gratefully. "But you'll get back not much before 9. Won't Mother miss you?"
"I'm not going back at 9," Catherine told her sister. "I'm staying for the wedding. Then I'll come back with you."
"Really?" Isabella asked, embracing her sister. "Oh, thank you, Catherine."
"You're welcome," Catherine replied. "Now, come on. We must start walking."
The 2 sisters walked down the winding country lanes, hand in hand. It was a dark night, and cold. Beautiful stars filled the sky, and the moon was full, giving moonlight to light the way.
When they finally arrived in the town, Isabella and Catherine found boarding at a small house. The woman who owned it was sympathetic to Isabella's plight, and was sworn to secrecy. Isabella contacted Daniel through Susan, a girl she knew who lived in the town, to tell him where she was, and when the wedding would be.
Catherine had found a kind-hearted vicar, who would wed the two. Daniel was to get a wedding licence, and the wedding was in a small chapel. Catherine had ended up arranging most of the wedding. Isabella had dreamed of the wedding, but she had no idea how to make her thoughts reality. So Catherine had organised everything.
The wedding dress Isabella was to wear was borrowed from Catherine's friend Betsy, who was of similar age and size to Isabella. A small cake had been ordered from the baker's, and Catherine had managed to find wedding rings for a reasonable price.
Finally, the day of the wedding arrived. Daniel arrived in town, and he escorted Catherine and Isabella to the chapel. There, the few guests who had been invited, various friends of the sisters, waited for them.
The wedding was beautiful, and Catherine cried. Isabella was blissfully happy. The reception was held at the boarding house, and it was a happy occasion. All of their friends wished them well, and to have a happy marriage.
As a small wedding gift, Daniel gave Isabella a beautiful locket. It had been in the Janeway family for years, and was worth a great deal of money. Isabella loved the locket, and immediatly vowed to wear it until her dying day.
But after Isabella's complete state of happiness for a few days, Daniel had to return home, and Isabella realised it was time for her to go back to her parents.
She and Catherine packed their bags, and walked all the way home. Once home, they walked directly into the parlour to see their waiting mother.
"My dear girls!" she cried. "Where have you been? We've been worried sick. Where did you go? What happened?"
"Sit down, Mamma," Catherine said gently. Isabella remained standing, fiddling nervously with her locket, while Catherine and Hannah Keith sat down.
"I was in town," Isabella said. "Catherine was kind enough to accompany me. I married Daniel Janeway, because I love him. I want to assure you that this is not Catherine's fault, so don't punish her."
"Isabella," gasped Hannah. "Oh, Isabella. You married him? You eloped?" Hannah just sat there, staring at her daughter in disbelief. "You married that miner?"
"He works hard," Mamma," Isabella insisted. "He is a kind gentleman, and we are going to be very happy."
Hannah Keith stood up slowly. "I'm going to my chamber," she decided. "I...I..." she trailed off, and left the room. Catherine and Isabella stood there, staring at each other.
"I think that Mamma took the news reasonably well," Catherine decided.
"Yes," Isabella agreed. She left the room, and was followed by Catherine.
"Where are you going?" Catherine asked. "Mother didn't say that you had to leave."
"I'm going to see my husband," Isabella said, grandly, leaving the house.
Catherine just stared at the door as it closed behind her.
* * * * *
Isabella sighed, and then carried on stirring the mixture with determination. It had been a hard week for her. She had learnt to cook, clean, and do many new things in one week. Luckily, Daniel's sister, Anne, had helped her to learn.
"I don't think it's supposed to look like this," Isabella decided, eyeing the mixture suspiciously. "It looks a little peculiar. And smells a little funny."
Anne looked at the mixture. "It doesn't look quite right," she said. "But it might turn out alright. You never know."
"I suppose," Isabella said, placing the pot on the stove, and stirring it vigorously.
There came a loud knock at the door. The women looked at each other.
"Are you expecting anyone?" Anne asked her sister-in-law.
"No," Isabella said. "It may be Catherine. Will you answer the door, Anne? I need to stir this."
"Of course." Anne left her sewing on the table, stood up, and opened the door.
"Miss Anne," the man greeted her with a solemn face. "Is Mrs Janeway here please?"
"Yes," Isabella called from the stove. "Come in, please."
Anne opened the door enough to allow the man to enter, before shutting the door firmly behind him, to keep out the cold winter's air.
"Mrs Janeway?" the man asked, looking carefully at Isabella.
"Yes, that's me," Isabella replied cheerfully. "What is it?"
"You may want to sit down, ma'am," the man said. Isabella stopped stirring, and looked at the man. She sat down, silently.
"There was a cave in," the man continued. "Daniel, ma'am...he was trapped. We were unable to save him. We lost Bertie, and Jeff too."
"He's..." Isabella couldn't bring herself to utter the awful word.
"Yes," the man said. "We retrieved the body earlier...if there's anything I can do, anything at all."
Anne sat down, lay her head on the table, and began to sob bitterly. "My brother. He was my only brother."
Isabella wanted very much to comfort Anne, but couldn't talk for her own tears. The man slowly left the house.
"I can't believe it," Anne managed to choke out the words. "I can't believe he's gone."
Isabella merely fingered the locket hanging around her neck.
* * * * *
"Poor Isabella," Tracie said, pulling her mind, which had been lost in the tragic story, back to the present time. "I feel so sorry for her. She went through all of that, and he died."
"The mines were a dangerous place to work," Kathryn told her granddaughter. "But I agree, it was a very sad story."
"What happened to her, after that," Tracie asked.
"She learned she had fallen pregnant," Kathryn told her. "She had a baby, a son called Daniel, after her husband. However, Anne was the one who raised the baby. Isabella killed herself, leaving the house, the baby, the locket, and the money to Anne."
"How sad," Tracie said, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. "Poor Anne. And poor Isabella. And poor Catherine."
"I know," Kathryn said. "We'll see if we can find a happier story this time, Tracie."
Tracie placed the locket back in the box, and gazed at the beautiful wooden box on her lap. Even though the last tale had been so tragic, she was loving learning about all her ancestors, and the different ways in which they had lived, and the different things they had accomplished and done, and what their fates were. She let her hand roam in the box, and finally, pulled out a small, old fashioned photograph.
"You and Granddad," she exclaimed. Kathryn smiled.
"That's right. It was taken on our wedding day, Tracie."
"But why was it taken using a camera?" Tracie asked. "Surely you could have used a holo-camera."
"We could have," Kathryn said. "And we did take many with the holo-camera. But Tom always said the 20th century had some good ideas, so he took some photos with his camera. And it was a good idea. It really was."
"So can I hear the story?" Tracie asked.
"Of course," Kathryn said. "The story starts at my quarters..."
* * * * *
"Hold still," B'Elanna Paris demanded, piling Kathryn Janeway's hair on top of her head, and clipping it firmly into position. "I can't make this look right if you don't stop squirming."
"Sorry," Kathryn Janeway apologised. "I'm just so nervous, B'Elanna."
"Don't be," the half-klingon told the Captain. "I'm sure Chakotay isn't."
"But what if we're unhappy?" Kathryn asked.
"You divorce," B'Elanna said, running quickly out of patience. "Now stop panicking. You're getting married. This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life. So calm down, and for gods sake, stay still so I can do your hair."
"I'm the Captain, so why are you bossing me around, Lieutenant?" joked Kathryn.
"Sorry ma'am," B'Elanna said. "I should probably go stand in the corner, huh?"
"No, stay here and finish my hair," Kathryn Janeway said firmly. "That's an order, Ms Paris."
"Of course, Captain," B'Elanna giggled. She reached for the hairspray, and squirted it all over Kathryn's hair. "Almost done."
Kathryn coughed once or twice. "Does it really need that much?" she asked.
"If you want your hair to stay up, then yes," B'Elanna told her.
Kathryn scowled at B'Elanna in the mirror. B'Elanna saw and burst out laughing.
"OK," B'Elanna said, putting the final clip in place. "All done."
"Finally," Kathryn exclaimed, standing up. "I like the hairstyle, B'Elanna. Looks nice."
"Hello?" came a voice from the other room.
"Come on in, Sam," B'Elanna called back. "We're just finishing off in here."
Samantha Carey entered the room. "I just came by to drop off Naomi," she explained, motioning to her daughter, the small flower girl. "OK, I'll leave you to it. See you at the wedding."
"OK, Sam," B'Elanna said. The half-ktaran child walked towards the two women.
"You look very pretty, Captain," Naomi shyly told the Captain.
"Thank you, Naomi," Kathryn said. She admired herself once more in the mirror, then stood up. "How do I look?" she asked B'Elanna and Naomi.
"Great," B'Elanna said. "The dress really suits you."
"Thank you," Kathryn said. "I thought so too." She turned back to the mirror, and admired herself again. Her hair was all pulled up on top of her head, with a veil half-hiding it. The dress suited her, it wasn't plain, yet it wasn't extravagant. It was, following tradition, white. It was perfect. She looked breathtaking.
"We'd better get to the holodeck," Naomi reminded them. "Or we're going to be late." Kathryn checked her chronometer, and saw that Naomi was right.
"Damn," she exclaimed. "Come on."
Kathryn, B'Elanna and Naomi raced to holodeck one, as fast as they could go in high heels, and long flowing dresses that looked nice, but were not good for running in. Finally, they reached the holodeck.
"Naomi, you go in first," Kathryn instructed the young half ktaran. "Tuvok's here to give me away. B'Elanna, you follow behind me with Tom."
Naomi entered the holodeck.
"Are you experiencing anxiety, Captain?" Tuvok asked, unemotionally.
"A little, Tuvok," Kathryn told him. "I'm getting married. It's to be expected."
"I agree," Tuvok said, as the bridal march began to play.
"Well, that's our cue," B'Elanna said. "Captain. Tuvok."
Kathryn Janeway and Tuvok walked through the door, into the church simulation. The crew stood up, and watched as she walked up the aisle, towards Chakotay.
Naomi had scattered flower petals in their path, but Kathryn didn't notice. She kept her blue eyes locked with Chakotay's brown ones. And didn't stop until she reached the altar.
"Dearly beloved," Tuvok began, switching roles from giving Kathryn away, to vicar. "We are gathered here today, to join this man," he gestured to Chakotay. "And this woman," he gestured to Kathryn. "In holy matrimony."
"If there is anyone who has any reason why these two shall not wed, speak now, or forever hold your peace." There was a silence. "Very well. I shall begin."
"Kathryn Janeway, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, to love and to cherish, through sickness and health until death do you part?"
"I do."
"Commander Chakotay, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, to love and to cherish, through sickness and health until death do you part?"
"I do."
Chakotay placed a ring on Kathryn's slender 4th finger on her left hand. Kathryn then placed a wedding ring on his own finger.
"I now pronounce you man and wife," Tuvok said. "You may kiss the bride."
The crew broke out into cheers as Chakotay leaned in to kiss Kathryn tenderly on the lips. Tom wolf whistled, and the room began to laugh, including Kathryn and Chakotay, who broke their first kiss as a married couple.
* * * * *
The reception was held in the messhall. There were balloons, streamers, and a huge banner saying "Congratulations Kathryn and Chakotay." Neelix had prepared everything, and at Kathryn's request, the dinner was leola root free.
"I'd like to propose a toast," Tom declared. "To happiness, love, and the Captain and Commander's future together."
Everyone drank to that. The newlywed couple drank their champagne smiling happily. B'Elanna drank her champagne looking amazed that her husband had been serious for once. Joe and Samantha Carey drank their champagne while holding hands, affectionately.
Soon, the dull, neccessary speeches were over, and the party began. Half of the messhall was converted to a dance floor, the other half was a seating area. Although it was a small space, and it was a little full, no one cared.
Neelix darted back and forth from the galley to the food tables, occasionally bringing out new dishes for the crew to enjoy. For once, Neelix had managed to make food that was reasonably edible, and even tasted good.
Kathryn ate yet another piece of the cake. "This is really good," she declared to her new husband. "So chocolatey."
Chakotay smiled. "It should have been fruit cake, Kathryn. That's tradition."
"To hell with tradition, I loathe fruit cake," Kathryn said. "If I couldn't have chocolate cake, there wouldn't have been a cake at all."
"I know," Chakotay said. "So, do you want to dance?"
Kathryn glanced over at the overcrowded dance floor. Many couples were already swaying in time to the music. It was a slow romantic song. "Sure," she said.
Chakotay stood up, and offered Kathryn his arm. She took it, and he led her to the dance floor. As they walked onto it, the couples moved to the side, leaving the entire floor to Kathryn and Chakotay. But neither of them noticed. They were too busy gazing happily into the other's eyes.
The slow dance continued. B'Elanna took some holo-photos of the happy couple, and Neelix stopped bringing out the new food so he could stay, and watch them dance, happily.
When the romantic music finally finished, Kathryn wiped a tear of happiness from her eye, and went to sit down at the table again. Naomi had pursuaded Chakotay to dance with her, and Kathryn watched as her husband playfully dance with the young half ktaran girl.
After that, the evening was full of dancing, fun, and joy. As Kathryn and Chakotay approached the dance floor again, B'Elanna stopped them.
"Can I get a photograph?" she asked, showing them the camera.
"Of course," Kathryn agreed. She wrapped an arm around her husband's back. Chakotay put an arm around Kathryn's shoulders.
"Say cheese," B'Elanna smiled, pressing the button down, forever capturing the newlywed couple on film...
* * * * *
"And that was our wedding," Kathryn said, watching Tracie listen intently. Although Kathryn was old, her blue eyes danced, remembering the day with joy. "Possibly the happiest day of my life."
"That was a great story," Tracie said. She had a great imagination, and she had pictured the beautiful wedding in her head. To Tracie, it almost felt as though she had lived the experience, and been there with Kathryn. "Will you tell me another, Grandma? Please?"
Kathryn yawned. "It's a little late, my dear. I think it's time for bed."
"You're right," Tracie agreed, lifting the box to the floor. She stood up. "Come on Grandma, it's time for bed."
"We'll continue this in the morning," Kathryn said. "That is, of course, if you want to, Tracie."
"I do," Tracie said, eagerly. "I do want to, Grandma. A lot."
"Very well," Kathryn smiled. She reached for her walking stick. Tracie helped her up, and escorted her Grandmother to her room.
"See you in the morning," Tracie told her Grandmother. "Call me if you need anything."
"I will," Kathryn said, kissing her granddaughter goodnight on the cheek. "Goodnight dear."
Kathryn Janeway went into her room and closed the door. Soon, she lay in bed, and drifted off to sleep. As usual, her dreams were filled with the one man she had truly loved. Chakotay.
Next Part coming soon...
