A/N: Reviews are back! Hooray!

Eighteen

You were always half crazy
Now look at you baby
You make about as much sense
As a nursery rhyme
And love is a piano
Dropped from a fourth-storey window
And you were in the wrong place
At the wrong time

Two Little Girls – Ani di Franco

Saturday dawned bright and fresh. Chakotay had arranged to meet Kathryn at the garden at 9am so that they could fix up the fence along the inner border of the vegetable patch before she had to go off and prepare for the evening's events.

"Tom and I need to be there early to make sure everything for the presentations is in place," she explained as he held a fence post steady for her to swing a sledgehammer at. "And of course, there's all the usual absurdities to observe."

Chakotay raised an eyebrow, leaning back to a safe distance as she drove the post home with a resounding thwack. "Absurdities?"

"Oh," she said, breathing hard and waving one dusty hand as she rested on the sledgehammer for a moment. "Hair. Make-up. My dress is still with the seamstress; when I got it out earlier in the week I realised it needed a bit of attention. Do not," she added, wagging a finger at him as they moved on to the next post, "tell that to Phoebe, she'd have a field-day."

"Phoebe?" he asked.

"My sister," Kathryn explained as she wiped one hand across her left cheek, unwittingly leaving an absurdly endearing smear of dirt that Chakotay had no intention of telling her about. "She'll be there too so you'll meet her tonight – for your sins."

He laughed, hefting another post from the ground and sliding it into the hole they'd already dug. "Older or younger?" he asked.

"Younger, by five years. Bane of my childhood," she added, as Chakotay laughed again. "How about you? Any siblings?"

"One," he told her, as she smashed the sledgehammer home again. He felt the power from the blow reverberating up his forearms and thought, not for the first time, that Kathryn Janeway was stronger than she looked. "Sekaya. She lives with her family – she has a husband and two children – in New Mexico."

Kathryn straightened up again, taking a step back. "Sekaya," she repeated. "Another beautiful name. Your parents knew what they were about when they named their children. I remember the night I first met you and you told me yours. Chakotay." She shook her head. "I'd never heard anything like it. And now-" She stopped.

"Now?" Chakotay prompted.

Kathryn smiled. "Now I can't imagine a time when I didn't know it. Isn't it strange, how these things happen?"

He smiled back. "It is. To me that night seems both as if it were yesterday and years ago."

She stepped to the next hole and he took that as his cue to shift another fence post. "You were not impressed when you met me."

"Where do you get that idea?"

Kathryn tilted her head and did a passable impression of him as she said, "'For the record, lady, around here if a guy like that wants your bag, you give him your damn bag.' And then you made some comment about Rodeo Drive. Which was pretty snobbish, now I come to think of it…"

Chakotay laughed. "That was just the adrenaline talking," he said. "After all, I had just come to your rescue, hadn't I?"

"You had," she conceded. "Very chivalrous of you it was, too. Although I'm pretty sure I could have taken him myself if you'd given me another minute. And if I had… well, perhaps in the long run it would have been better all around…"

"But then we might never have met," he pointed out, holding the final fence post steady and jerking his chin to get her moving again.

"That's true," she agreed, as she readied the hammer for another swing. "You think that would have been a bad thing?"

"I think it would have been a very bad thing. And you're wrong, you know," he told her.

"About what?"

Chakotay straightened up, putting his hands on his hips with a smile. "I was extremely impressed, very quickly."

She smiled again, but this time it was one of her rarest – one of those ones that always seemed so unharnessed and so radiant that it made his heart stutter until every pulse pushed the air from his lungs. Before he realised what he was doing, Chakotay had stepped forward and raised one hand to her face to wipe the smudge of dirt from her cheek. Her eyes went wide with surprise as his fingers brushed over her skin. He remembered that first night, when he'd tried to catch her chin in his fingers to check the cut that had marred her face in exactly the same place. How she'd reared back, blue eyes flashing fire. This time she didn't rear back.

Isn't it strange, how these things happen?

"Dirt," he explained quietly, dropping his hand again.

Her mouth made an 'Oh' shape and Kathryn scrubbed a sleeve against her cheek. "Gone?" she asked.

Chakotay nodded. "Gone."

He turned away to look at the vegetable patch and as he did so he heard her let out a breath that almost seemed to stutter. Chakotay swallowed hard.

"You know, I think the tomatoes have grown even since you planted them a few days ago," he said. "They're obviously happy here."

"Yes," she agreed, "I think you're right on both counts." Kathryn brushed her hands off against her jeans and sighed. "Chakotay, look – I'm sorry but I don't think I'm going to have time to finish the fence today. I really need to get going."

He turned to face her again. "It's fine. We've got the bulk of it done – I can do the rest myself. You go."

"You don't have to do that," she said. "We can leave it for another time, until I can help. The passion flowers can stay in their pots for a while."

"It's fine," he told her. "Really, Kathryn. Go. Do what you need to do, I'm happy here."

She looked away, absently rubbing her cheek again. "All right. Thank you, Chakotay. Again. I always seem to be saying that, don't I?"

He smiled at her. "You are very welcome, Kathryn Janeway, each and every time you do."

"I don't think I can do this," B'Elanna said, her hands white on the steering wheel.

"Of course you can," said Chakotay. "We're almost there. I don't think it's going to be that hard to find. From the image on Google Maps it probably counts as its own continent."

She grimaced at the weak joke, keeping an eye on the 4x4 in her mirrors. It seemed intent on tailgating her grubby little runabout all the way to Montecito. "That's not what I meant, Coach."

"I know. I was ignoring the other thing, because you can't possibly mean it."

"I can, and I do." She glanced at the exit coming up. If she got off the freeway now she could loop back around and head straight back to Maywood. Her fingers hovered over the indicator.

"Don't even think about it," Chakotay warned her.

"Come on, Coach," B'Elanna groaned. "This was a damn stupid idea in the first place. I can't give a presentation in front of all those people. Let's just forget about it, all right? Let's just turn tail right now, and-"

"-and let Tom and Kathryn down?" Chakotay finished for her. "Because that's what you'd be doing if you duck out now, B'Elanna. Think of all the preparation they've both put into this. I know for a fact that Kathryn's persuaded a whole heap of new possible donors to attend on the basis of what you're bringing tonight."

"Really not helping," B'Elanna told him.

"You're going to be fine," he replied. "You've been over the presentation plenty of times. You've got notes, you've got the PowerPoint. I'll be there, Tom and Kathryn will be there. You can do this. All right?"

B'Elanna sighed and bit her lip. "All right."

"Good."

B'Elanna let the SatNav warble on about something for a moment, and then added, "I just wish I had something better to wear. I might as well have a flag over my head that reads, 'Poor Latina On A Fancy Night Out'."

She felt Chakotay glance her over, taking in the scoop-necked knee-length black dress B'Elanna had borrowed from a school friend. "It's fine – perfectly appropriate, I would have said."

B'Elanna snorted. "You do know that every other woman there is going to be wearing something that cost more than this car, right?"

Chakotay frowned. "I don't think so, actually. This morning Kathryn said she had to collect her outfit from being mended, which sounds pretty down to earth to me."

She glanced over at him. "Yeah, well. One person's down to earth is another's 'Holy-shit-didn't-I-see-that-on-Penelope-Cruz-at-the-Oscars-last-year?'" B'Elanna shrugged at the perplexed look he gave her. "Just saying, Coach. I think you'd better be prepared. Up to now you've only seen her on a building site and in a grubby gym. Don't want you tripping over your own tongue or anything, do we?"

"B'Elanna!" Chakotay sounded genuinely outraged, which almost made her laugh outright. "That's enough! You really do have a choice way with words, don't you? And I don't know where this idea you have about Ms Janeway and me has come from. Wasn't it you who pointed out she's getting married shortly? We're just friends, that's all. Nothing else."

"Yeah, yeah," B'Elanna said, leaning forward to check a street name and yanking the car into a sudden right turn that juddered them both in their seats. "But I gotta point out – she's getting married. She's not married yet. Right? Tick tock, Coach. Tick tock."

Chakotay said nothing for a moment, and then: "You've changed your tune. I thought you couldn't stand her?"

B'Elanna shrugged again. "You and Tom told me to give her a chance, and I did. And guess what? You were both right." She looked over to see him staring out of the window, a slight smile on his face. "Actually, maybe I should go ahead and warn her, too. You're looking pretty sharp yourself for an old guy. Why do you even own a tux, anyway?"

Chakotay shook his head, ignoring most of what she'd said and opting to address just the question. "My ex used to drag me to a lot of events where I needed one. Got sick of renting so I bought one instead. Waste of a month's salary that was."

B'Elanna grinned, focusing on the wide street ahead of her just as the SatNav's tinny voice spoke into the air.

'You have reached your destination. Destination is directly ahead.'

She stared through the windscreen. "Jesus Christ."

The house in front of them was bigger than her entire apartment block, not to mention the street it was built on. Ahead of them were two huge cast iron gates, wrought in a filigree style and flanked by high, thick walls of yellow sandstone. Beyond B'Elanna's fender the street turned into a neatly paved brick driveway that led through the gates and towards staggered landscaping that wove up an incline. It passed a marble-edged pond in which three fountains were spurting huge columns of water before curving around on itself in front of a massive double-step arrangement that led up to the main entrance.

"Okay," B'Elanna said, slowly. "I can just back up, right now. I can just turn around and-"

A knock on her window made her jump. She looked up to see a man in some sort of livery complete with a black peaked cap leaning down to look in at her. She wound down the window.

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

"We're here for the gala," Chakotay said, leaning over to speak before she had a chance to say no. "We have invitations…"

The doorman took the proffered cards and checked them with a smile. "Welcome, ma'am, sir. If you just continue through the gates and up to the door, a valet will take care of your car for you. Have a good evening."

"Thank you," Chakotay said, in the absence of B'Elanna being able to speak. "You have a good evening too."

They drove on through the gates in silence. There were lights burning everywhere, marking the edge of the driveway and turning the colours of twilight into something almost too ethereal to contemplate.

"Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas any more," B'Elanna muttered. "This is insane. Who the hell are these people?"

Ahead of them she could see other arrivals in better, bigger, cleaner cars, most of them with drivers who leapt out as they paused at the steps and opened the doors for their passengers. The women stepped out in unimaginable flurries of silk and colour, wearing shoes with heels longer than the span of B'Elanna's hand. When it was her turn to stop at the steps, a waiting valet dashed forward to open the driver's door. B'Elanna got out on shaky legs, horribly aware of just how ridiculous she and her battered jalopy must look amid all this finery.

The valet held out his hand for her keys. "Ma'am," he said.

"Oh, sure," she said, awkwardly, dropping them into his palm. "There you go…"

"Chakotay! B'Elanna!" The voice came from Tom Paris, who jogged down the stairs to greet them. He was also dressed in a tuxedo, which B'Elanna couldn't help but note made him look decidedly cute. Seeing him was an inordinate relief, a burst of welcome familiarity in the looking-glass world she felt she'd fallen into.

"I thought I'd come out and wait for you," he said, once he was closer. "Did you find us all right?"

"Are you kidding me right now?" she asked. "You could see this place from space with the naked eye."

Tom laughed, then turned to look up at the building behind him as if he hadn't really taken notice of it before. "I guess it is pretty big."

"You guess? I-" B'Elanna stopped and stared at him, a truly mind-blowing thought occurring to her. "Tom. Please tell me this isn't – this isn't your house?"

"Well - it's my mom and dad's," Tom said, with a shrug. "Come on – let me show you where the presentations are going to be. Work first, fun later, right?"

Chakotay began to walk up the steps, but B'Elanna was frozen to the spot. Tom smiled at her.

"It's just a house, B'Elanna," he said, holding out his arm for her to take. "Come on. Later, once all the big stuff is out of the way, I'll show you around, if you like."

B'Elanna slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, and as she did it occurred to her that while she'd been telling Chakotay to prepare himself, she'd neglected to do the same herself.

Inside, there was a string quartet playing beneath a glass chandelier in a domed room, the ceiling of which was so high that B'Elanna would have had to lie flat on her back and squint to make out all the detail in the Italianate decoration above their heads. Two staircases arched up either side to a mezzanine that curved with the walls, but Tom led them straight ahead, through the milling throng towards two large carved wooden doors, currently closed. He moved away from her side long enough to snag a glass of something fizzy, which he passed to Chakotay before grabbing two more from a different tray and passing one to her.

"These ones are virgin," he promised, off Chakotay's forbidding look.

She took Tom's arm again and he walked on, nodding thanks to one of the two men on either side of the doors as one of them stepped forward to open it. Beyond was a wide corridor with a wooden floor polished so fervently it could have served as a mirror. Two more large doors stood open onto what turned out to be a ballroom, half of which had been laid with circular tables and chairs. Wait staff were hurrying about, putting finishing touches here and there. At the far end a low stage had been erected, on which stood a podium and behind it, a projection screen. A man in black coat and tails was fiddling with a piece of equipment. With a churning nervousness, B'Elanna recognised the first slide of her presentation as it flashed up, slightly out of focus.

A woman was standing beside the man, her back to them as she looked up at the screen, issuing quiet instructions as the images slowly sharpened. She was wearing a pale blue gown formed from a mass of gossamer-thin layers of silk creating a floor-length full skirt that looked as if it belonged in the sort of fairytale where this house would make sense. Cinched at the waist, the bodice was tightly fitted, the silk falling in soft folds that left her shoulders bare. As they got closer, B'Elanna could see the diamante pins holding up the complicated pattern in her hair glinting in the light overhead.

If B'Elanna hadn't been expecting it, she'd never have recognised her. This look was a world away from muddy jeans and a t-shirt. She wondered if Chakotay had realised who it was yet.

"That's it!" said Kathryn Janeway, holding up one hand as the picture perfected itself on the screen. Then she turned and, seeing them coming, offered a bright smile.

Beside her, B'Elanna heard a sharp intake of breath. In the next second there was a clatter as Chakotay walked smack into one of the chairs and had to scrabble to right it, dropping his glass of champagne in the process.

"Told you," she whispered.

[TBC]