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A Christmas Miracle

Summary:

Admiral Kathryn Janeway does not like Christmas - but this one will be different

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I’d drunk the replicated champagne – it wasn’t that bad, if you’d never tasted the real thing. I’d eaten the ersatz turkey, the tarkadian potatoes and all the trimmings – well, I’d tasted some, at least. Neelix had been proud of his Christmas meal, and I wouldn’t have wanted to dampen his enthusiasm. I had so little left myself that I needed his. The crew seemed… Well, maybe not merry, but they did seem to be coping with this first Christmas in the Delta Quadrant. Nearly ten months of peregrinations – I hadn’t given up hope we would get back, but on days like today, it was harder to believe. I’d never really liked Christmas anyway – maybe because I’d never been sure Daddy would be home. Phoebe and I would get the presents all right, but sometimes, all we heard from him was a short message from wherever in was in the galaxy, negotiating treatises for Starfleet. I did understand that peace came before antiquated rituals like Christmas, but I missed him. And then, of course…He and Justin had died a few days before the 25th of December… I had had their presents all ready. Instead, I’d spent the holiday in hospital with a broken leg, and missed their funerals altogether.

“Coffee, black – no, hold that – mocha.”

Well, it’s Christmas eve after all. And I’m finally alone. I could have stayed with the others – in fact, I’m pretty sure that Tuvok and Chakotay wanted me to stay. They’re worried, I can see that. Tuvok would say Vulcans do not worry – he would be lying. My captain’s mask isn’t strong enough to fool them. How can I hide my guilt? I saw Harry Kim’s eyes – red-rimmed. Some of the other younger ones’ too. They’re thinking of their families, and all I can give them is a mismatched crew. I can’t even give them myself tonight – I can barely hold it together, and I won’t show them weakness. They need me to be strong.

*****

Seven years – seven Christmases… And we were still standing – not all of us, but most of us. Battered, bruised, and bashed by the Delta Quadrant, but hopefully with more strength and more hope now we were in contact with Earth again… Oh, who was I kidding? It only made us feel the distance more. At least we had children on board now, and we had to make this time magical, at least for them. Introducing Naomi, Icheb, and in part, Seven to the mysteries of Christmas infused a little joy to the proceedings. Neelix did his best, as usual. We held a carol concert. The Doctor’s Adeste Fideles brought tears to my eyes, and I wasn’t the only one weeping.

My door rang. “Come!”, I said softly. I knew who it was. He had come on every Christmas Eve after the first one, bringing wine and chocolate. On that first Christmas Eve on Voyager, I’d thanked him and sent him on his way. Told him he ought to be with the crew. Told him I was fine on my own. But he had learnt to read my lies as well as my face, and the following year, he hadn’t really given me a choice. And he had held me. The glasses were ready. We sat on the large settee, looking at the stars, and we talked of home. He knew I needed a friend. He knew I would never ask, but he came anyway. I could always rely on Chakotay.

*****

I rolled on my side and felt the warm bed empty beside me. This was unexpected – we had gone to bed together about… I looked at the clock – four hours ago. Where had she gone? I groaned and ordered half-lights on. Then I saw the note: “Emergency at Starfleet med – be back as soon as I can – sorry, darling – merry Christmas.” I was more tired than I thought – almost eight years as an admiral, as part of Starfleet “brass”, and I hadn’t heard her leave. And once again, I was alone on Christmas night. No one understood duty better than I did, however, and although I cursed whatever emergency had happened, I knew that Beverly couldn’t have done otherwise. Medicine was in her blood. Devotion to duty was in both of ours. When I thought back of those nine years since the return of Voyager, I sometimes wondered why I hadn’t just left it all behind me, though. Maybe Jean-Luc Picard had had the right idea after all, bunking back to France. But I was still here. The first years back have been hard. Suddenly, I was alone. Not that I had never been lonely on Voyager, but I had never been truly alone, and it had felt terrifying at first, to see the crew scatter in all directions. Tuvok went back home to his family. B’Elanna and Tom got on another ship. Harry Kim finally got promoted to Lieutenant, and then Commander, married Tal Celes, and they went back on Voyager… Seven… Seven accepted a research commission, and is working with the Doctor. And Chakotay – my best friend, my stalwart ally – accepted the consequences of his actions with the Maquis. The Federation acquitted the others, but not the leader – he was banished to his home planet for ten years. I miss him.

After about a year back, I got more and more frequent migraines, and although I usually avoided medical bays like the plague, I had no choice when my assistant found me almost blind with pain, hunched over my desk. He had me beamed me directly to Starfleet Medical, and that’s how I met Dr Beverly Crusher. Well, when she woke me up from the semi-conscious state I’d fallen into. We were both in…oh, all right – we both have strong tempers, and we were both in terribly foul moods. She, because she had seen my files and noticed I’d avoided every scheduled medical since Voyager’s return, and I because I hated being helpless. Sparks flew – all kind of sparks, but I was in no condition to notice at first. The news she had for me suffocated me. Something in the Delta Quadrant had put me in early menopause, and it wasn’t reversible. Even in the 24th century, the cycles of life remained elusive. I would never have children. I screamed at her…I called her names. And then I wept in her arms.

After that, I fled. I couldn’t take the endless and usually unproductive meetings, nor the humdrum of everyday life anymore. I didn’t want to see anyone anyway. I didn’t know who I was anymore. I was a captain without a ship or a crew, and suddenly I’d been told I wasn’t… Well, I was a woman, but not the same woman. A woman who had killed on duty, but would never give life.I took a leave of absence and buried myself in my childhood home, which I had inherited at my mother’s death. I sank deep. Beverly rescued me. She brought me kicking and crying into the world again. I once asked her why. After all, she hadn’t known me all that well then – almost not at all. “I didn’t have to know you, Kathryn”, she told me. “As soon as I meant you, I recognised you. Parts of you were me, parts of me were you. We were kindred spirits, and I just knew I couldn’t let you get away.” We’ve been together for seven years. It’s not the first time she’s had to go in the night. But it’s Christmas…

Should I get up and start breakfast? Or maybe lunch? I looked at the clock again. 0600. Much too early to try to burn the kitchen down, especially since I had no idea when she would get back. Coffee? Yes, always a good idea. And since it was, after all, Christmas day, I was going to take the time for a nice, long bath and a few chapters of a new novel. We can always order in for lunch.

About a bath and three coffees later, I heard footsteps in the corridor and the door open. I had almost managed to read myself out of my Christmas abandonment blues.

“In here, sweetheart,” I called out. “What was it?”

Beverly didn’t answer. I lifted my head to see her in the door frame, a bundle in her arms and a slightly sheepish grin on her face.

“It was… An emergency,” she finally said, coming closer. A sound of mewling escaped from the bundle. Mewling? Had she rescued a kitten somewhere on the way? No, it was too big for a kitten. I remembered how I’d found Mollie, a lost puppy in a snow storm. A puppy then? Having another dog would be nice.

“She’s called Noelle,” she went on. “It seemed appropriate.”

“You’re not making any sense, Beverly.”

She came to sit beside me on the couch and slowly unwrapped the bundle. I gasped: “What – what….”

Beverly smiled again with that sheepish, hopeful expression. “That was the emergency. She was brought into Starfleet Medical. Her parents…” Her smile disappeared. “I knew them on the Enterprise. They – they’ve just died. Shuttle accident. I couldn’t save her mother, but… Noelle is safe, and she’s fine and…Oh, Kathryn – she’s – she’s ours. They – they left her to me. Neither of them had any family.”

I just stared at her and the baby in astounded silence. A baby? A little girl for Christmas.  It was either a terribly bad joke or a Christmas miracle. But after all, we were Starfleet, and weird is part of the job. I held out my arms and Beverly and Noelle snuggled into them.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” she said. I hugged them harder. I still couldn’t speak – I was crying, the best tears of my life.