"I'll pick it up after work." (Janeway/Jaffen)

Author's Note: This story is an AU for "Workforce".

/

"Free drinks on the house!" declared the waiter, setting bright blue glasses with sliced fruit on Kathryn's and Jaffen's table with a flourish. "Congratulations to the happy couple."

"Congratulations," added Umali, her face twitching with irritation and fondness for her young employee. "But those are the last free drinks you hand out tonight. Is that clear, Tom?"

"Yes, ma'am." Tom snapped to attention - feet together, chin up, hands behind his back - in an exaggerated military manner before scurrying back behind the bar. The proprietress followed, elegant as always with her high heels and long platinum hair, shaking her head and trying not to smile.

Something about the young man's body language was oddly familiar to Kathryn, but she couldn't think why, and anyway, she had more important things to think about … such as the fact that Jaffen had just asked her to move in with him.

And she'd said yes.

After traveling alone for so many years, she'd finally have somewhere to belong.

Her lips were still tingling from his kiss as they clinked glasses and drank. Her first sip of the drink tasted like raspberry. He smiled at her. If she didn't say something sensible and practical right now, she was in danger of melting into an emotional puddle right here in this diner. That could wait until they got home.

"So, first order of business," she said, squeezing the bright red citrus slice until the juice dripped into her glass, "Who's moving where - your place or mine?"

To his credit, he didn't look surprised, and considered the question with a thoughtful pause before saying: "Well, mine has more space, and it's also two floors down. Next time the lift breaks, I don't know about you, but my knees would thank me. If we're going to pool resources, it would be the efficient choice."

He quirked one silver eyebrow at the word efficient. It was a running joke between them ever since their first day, to pretend they were only colleagues when they were obviously more. She thought, somewhat guiltily, of young Monitor Hansen and her overzealous efforts to keep order. The temptation to make fun of her was childish, really. Tonight, happy as she was, she sent good wishes to the younger woman instead, hoping someday she'd understand the joy that came from being less than efficient sometimes.

"Maybe," she allowed, "But on the other hand, you don't have as many things as I do. It would be easier for you to move yours over than vice versa."

"That's right, your collection." He shook his head in astonishment. "How did you accumulate so much after being here only three weeks?"

"What?" she shrugged, a little bit defensive even at a moment like this. "I lived through some lean times before I got here. If I throw something away, I just know I'll want it back one day."

Truth be told, so much of her life had been swallowed up by a haze of Dysphoria Syndrome that - despite the daily injections that assured her otherwise - she was afraid of forgetting every day she lived here unless she kept a tangible souvenir. All the spent plasma relays from the power plant, concert and museum ticket stubs, framed holoimages and other oddments held memories of Jaffen that she didn't want to lose.

"I understand," he said. "But it wouldn't hurt to have some more shelf space for that collection, now would it?"

He tossed back his blue drink and leaned back with the air of someone who knew he'd just won the debate, and she had to admit he was right.

"I'll pick it up after work," she said. "Your place it is, then, but on one condition."

"Which is?"

"Give me replicator access. I'm gonna need my coffee in the morning."

"Far be it from me to get between you and your burned bean water."

She punched him lightly on the shoulder. He caught her fist and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. She caught the eye of the waiter behind the counter, who was grinning, but for once, she was almost too happy to be embarrassed.

/

Six weeks later …

"So we end up in your quarters after all," said Jaffen, standing beside Kathryn in front of her open closet. "Somehow I'm not surprised."

She had moved her spare uniforms over to make room, but his clothes easily filled up the leftover hangers and shelves. "Do you own any other colors besides dark blue and gray?"

He gave the topmost dark blue sweater a self-conscious pat. "Fashion's not much of a concept on my world. Besides, I tried green and it didn't suit me at all."

He meant the color of the Quarran power plant uniforms. She winced. "Fair enough. I used to enjoy dressing up, but I haven't had the chance in a while. Uniforms are easier."

She caught sight of her pink satin nightgown on its hanger. Jaffen followed her gaze with an intrigued expression that made her smile; maybe it was time to bring that side of herself out again.

"That's everything, I guess." He zipped up his empty duffel bag - his toiletry kit was already in the bathroom and his personal data on the ship's computer - and took a step back, taking in the queen-sized bed with its scattering of pillows, the window with its stripe of light set into the curving bulkhead, and the stack of paper books by the nightstand. Her room must seem luxurious and alien to him, just like the rest of Voyager, but with her memories so freshly restored, it was all achingly familiar. She had stood beside that window staring out into the Void; she had sat in that armchair debating with Seven in the small hours of the morning; she had hugged Kes goodbye on that sofa. Her life was in this place. She wanted very much for Jaffen to become a part of it.

"It's beautiful here," he said, looking out at the stars streaking past the window. "It's … I don't know … it's nothing like I expected, but at the same time, it's so you."

"Do you like it?" she asked, her heart in her mouth. "Do you, uh … can you see yourself living here?"

"Kathryn." He huffed out a surprised laugh. "Remember my old apartment? That place was basically a gray box, and you were still halfway to making it beautiful. I could see myself living anywhere with you."

She hugged him, running her hands over his soft gray turtleneck, saying everything she couldn't say in words. Her life might have been dramatically rewritten, and it turned out she wasn't as alone as she'd thought, but one thing was still true: what Jaffen brought to her life was something she'd been missing for a long time.

"Now c'mon," she said happily. "Tom and Neelix have a welcome party prepared that I'm not supposed to know about. They should be calling right about - "

Chirp. "Neelix to Jaffen, can you please come down to the mess hall? I need to speak with you on an urgent matter of business."

"On my way. Janeway out." She tapped her commbadge silent. " … Now. So how about it? Ready to act surprised?"

"Shouldn't be too difficult. It's a fairly constant state for me these days."

He held out his arm and she drew hers through it on the way out the door.

When they arrived in the mess hall, their shipmates popped up from behind counters and tables, with smiles brighter than the sudden lights. Everyone had a kind word to say, despite - or maybe because - of their own lingering memory troubles after Quarra. Seven stepped out of her solitary corner to offer Kathryn her awkward, but sincere congratulations. Neelix, bless his soul, had somehow gotten hold of a Norvalan baking recipe; although the oatmeal-like cubes didn't look too appealing to Kathryn, Jaffen brightened up like a young boy when he saw them. Tom, grinning from ear to ear, wove his way through the crowd with a tray of drinks and presented it to them with a flourish.

"Congratulations again, you two," he said. "And this time, guess what? You can have all the free drinks you want."

"Take it easy, Tom," Neelix scolded cheerfully. "Our replicators do have limits, you know."

Jaffen caught Kathryn's eye over the rims of their champagne glasses, and she knew he must be thinking the same thing she was.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.