This part is dedicated to all those fellow coffee haters! I personally hate coffee; I think it's disgusting and vile, but the again, that's my personal opinion :-) But I love coffee ice cream! Oh, and before I forget, I named the Rainforest Cafe after this cafe that I spotted in Tyson's Corner Mall! I love that mall! :::waves to Eggy and Natty::: I own Max Green, too.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: COLD FEET
Kathryn Janeway squinted as she opened her eyes, for night had become day all too soon. She sat up in bed, and realized that Chakotay wasn’t there. Remembering their plans for the day, she quickly grabbed her clothes and headed for the bathroom to change. Smothering a yawn, she pulled on her outfit and walked down the hallway to the stairs. Energized by the smell of coffee brewing, she walked quickly to the kitchen. As soon as Harry Kim spotted her in the doorway, he got out another mug from the cabinet. Heather Whitney looked up from pouring the coffe and smiled. Captain Janeway had a notorious repuation for being addicted to coffee. From what the half Betazoid had observed, it was true.
“Morning,” greeted Chakotay, walking over and giving her a kiss.
“Hi!” echoed Samantha Paris, the fourth occupant of the room. “Mom had to go to the Doctor’s for her annual checkup and Dad’s already at work,” she explained.
“So, would the captain like some coffee?” teased Kim.
Heather poured Kathryn a cup without waiting for a reply. “Cream, right?”
“Actually, half and hafl,” Jameway replied. She sat down at the kitchen table and breathed in the smell of the fresh coffe. It smelled heavenly.
Heather wrinkled her nose as she watched Kathryn drink the liquid. “How can you stand that stuff? Its nasty!” she exclaimed, pouring herself a cup of tea from the teapot.
Janeway froze, the mug halfway to her mouth. At the look on Whitney’s face, she gave her a look. “Coffee is one of God’s greatest gifts, Lieutenant Commander,” she joked sternly.
The science officer rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Its still nasty, though,” she pointed out.
“You don’t like coffee?” Chakotay asked, incredulous.
Heather shook her head. “Heck, no!”
“You like coffee ice cream, don’t you?” Samantha asked, confused as she sipped her cup of coffee.
“Thats delicious!” Heather pointed out, deadpan.
“You are making no sense,” her fiancé told her.
Chakotay laughed. “When does she ever make sense, Harry?” he asked the lieutenant commander.
Heather shot them both looks.
“You’re serious that you don’t like coffee?” Kathryn asked, astounded.
“Its disgusting!” cried Whitney.
“What’s disgusting?” a familiar voice asked sleepily.
Everyone turned to see B’Elanna Torres, donned in a tee shirt, boxers, slippers, and a bathrobe.
“Coffee!” insisted Heather.
B’Elanna’s brow furrowed. “Wha?” she asked, blinking back the sudden urge to fall asleep.
At the blank look on the engineer’s face, everyone burst out laughing.
Fifteen minutes later, everyone was gathered around the kitchen, laughing and filling Lisa in on what she had missed the previous night.
“How’s your ankle?” Alyssa questioned, turning to B’Elanna.
B’Elanna smiled. “Its a tiny bit sore, but I’ll live,” she replied dryly.
Lisa’s eyebrows raised. “What happened?”
“The waves got a bit too large for my liking.” Torres winced.
Doav glanced at her with a sympathetic smile. “Ouch.”
“Yeah.” B’Elanna, sitting on one of the stools, flexed her ankle slowly in a circle.
“So, what are our plans for today?” Chakotay asked.
Kathryn helped herself to another cup of coffee and took a blissful sip of it, closing her eyes. She opened them to find Whitney staring at her strangely. “What?” she demanded. Heather winced, and Kathryn thought she heard the empath mutter something about ‘vile liquids’.
“Well, I’m scheduled for one last fitting for my wedding dress in San Francisco, and so is B’Elanna. Kathryn, Heather, and Seven, if you’d like to come with us, you’re welcome to, although I don’t know how interesting hanging around watching us wearing dresses would be.”
“We’ve got to go get our tuxes,” Tom told Harry.
Chakotay said, “I’ll come along if you don’t mind.”
“Sure!” Tom flashed him a smile. He’d need all the help he could get, because suddenly he was suddenly getting an awful case of wedding jitters.
Lisa took a deep breath, running her hands along the fabric of her wedding dress. Closing her eyes, she turned around to face the mirror. Opening them, her blue eyes sparkled with excitement as she surveyed her appearance in the glass.
The dress was pure white, with a lace embroidery top and long sweeping skirts. The train went about a foot from the part where the skirts fell to the floor. The neckline was low, but not too low, and showed just a hint of cleavage. The sleeves were long, and were covered in lace as well. The veil fell down to her slim waist, and was fastened by white flowers on a thin white headband that set loosely on her blonde hair. Her hair itself was to be pulled back in a French twist with a pearl barret, with a few blonde tendrils curling down around her face. For shoes she had picked out white sandals with two-inch heels.
“You look gorgeous,” Heather breathed, scrutenizing the other woman from head to foot. She smiled softly. “If I look half as good as you do in your wedding dress as I do in mine, I’ll be happy for the rest of my life.”
Lisa gave Heather a tearful smile. “Thank you, Heather.” She paused and turned back to the mirror. “I still can’t believe I’m getting married!”
Whitney laughed. “I feel the exact same way, Lisa,” she told Doav.
“I felt the exact same way when I stood trying on *my* wedding dress,” Kathryn called out from behind a set of closed doors, where she was helping B’Elanna change into her dress for the wedding. Seven had volunteered to go find the men, who were across town, and tell them that they would meet them at the Rainforest Restuarant in two hours. Kathryn herself had already picked out an outfit, and knew that Heather was going to wear a silver dress she had spotted while they had been shopping the day before. “There, you’re ready.”
“B’Elanna!” Lisa called, turning around so she could see her Maitron of Honor.
The doors opened, and a very self-concious half Klingon stepped out. B’Elanna Torres, normally ever so much the tomboy by wearing pants, wore a hunter-green silk dress that fell to the floor. It dipped in the back, showing off her bronzed skin. The dress was sleeveless, with wide straps, and showed a tiny bit of cleavage due to a V-neck. It was tight around her stomach area, and then draped down to the floor. She wore three-inch hunter green heels. For the wedding, she was going to wear her hair the way she always wore it: loose. Anytime she tried to do something with her hair, it always ended messed up. Behind Torres followed Janeway, still donned in every-day clothes.
Whitney let out a low whistle. “Woah,” she commented, stunned. B’Elanna looked positively drop-dead gorgeous in that gown.
Blood rushed to B’Elanna’s cheeks. “I think the train is too long,” she muttered, gazing down at the floor.
Lisa shook her head, smiling at Torres’s obvious embrarrasment. “You look beautiful, B’Elanna, and you know it,” she reprimanded the engineer.
B’Elanna made a face, but a hint of a smile grazed her face. “Thanks,” she replied, as a few helpers beckoned her to step up on a platform so they could work on the hem. She glared at Heather, who was busy smirking. “What?!” she demanded, trying very hard not to stomp her foot.
“Nothing,” Whitney replied, suddenly serious. “Its just that I’ve only seen you wear a dress three or four times before, thats all.”
Torres’ eyes narrowed, but Heather laughed, and this time it was the empath who cried, “What?!”
B’Elanna only giggled.
“What about the bouquet?” Lisa was asking the person in charge of everything.
The woman glanced down at her clipboard. “Baby’s breath and white roses.”
Lisa nodded, a thankful smile on her face, and turned back to the mirror. She glanced at her reflection, and blinked back tears of joy. She couldn’t believe that she was actually getting married. She loved Tom so much, and since he had proposed she felt like she was in a dream. Catching a glint out of the corner of her eye, she looked down at her left hand, where her diamond engagement ring was firmly placed on her ring finger. Then she took a deep breath and gazed into her own eyes in the mirror. In just over twenty-four hours, she was getting *married*. The thought brought pleasant shivers running down her spine.
“That is not funny, Harry,” Paris retorted, glaring in his best friend’s direction.
“Why isn’t it?” Kim replied, deadpan. “Besides, Heather’s got a great voice. And Seven would be perfect to sing along with her.”
Chakotay had to laugh at the helmsman’s indignity. Harry had suggested that Heather and Seven sing a rousing version of ‘Here Comes the Bridge’ at the beginning of the wedding. Needless to say, Tom was *not* amused with the idea.
“How’s that?” the tailor asked, stepping back.
Tom glanced down at his jet black tuxedo jacket and pants, along with the white button-down shirt he was wearing. He nodded. “Its great. Thanks, Max,” he commented to the tailor.
Max Green nodded. “No problem. I’ll bring the tuxes to your house around seven tomorrow morning. How’s yours, Harry?”
Kim flexed his arms, then nodded. “Great.”
“Do the shoes have to be that shiny?” Chakotay questioned out of curiousity.
Tom groaned. “These remind me of all those fancy Starfleet meetings that we had to attend wearing our dress uniforms when we first got back from the Delta Quadrent,” he commented.
Harry smirked, and Tom shot him another look, knowing all too well that Harry was thinking of the time when Heather had just told him to shut up or she would spit-shine his shoes when the three were at a meeting hosted by Admiral Haze at a fancy country club in northern California. B’Elanna hadn’t been there for the first part of the party, because she was still overseeing Voyager’s new warp schematics with some of Starfleet’s top engineers. In the end, she had arrived wearing a dark navy blue short dress with straps and high heels at the last minute. Her hair had shoved back into a French twist, but Tom had still spotted that she had forgotten to wash her hands. Black oil was still on them. He remembered how she had shot him a look when he had told her, then laughed gaily, tilting her head back. Her brown eyes shining-
“Tom?” Chakotay asked, slightly confused. Tom had a faraway look in his eyes.
Harry laughed. “He’s probably just thinking of Lisa,” he teased.
Paris shot him yet another look, then smiled. “Its nothing,” he said lightly.
Chakotay gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Everybody gets cold feet,” he assured Tom. Tom inwardly grimaced. The butterflies in his stomach were doing somersaults, and he had a slight case of nausea. All of a sudden, he was getting wedding jitters.
B’Elanna sipped her drink as Kathryn and Heather talked about Kathryn and Chakotay’s wedding. Lisa listened attentively, and Seven was busy adding in her two cents. She herself hadn’t said much, although she felt a bit excited about the upcoming wedding, which would be the next day.
“Watch them get lost or something,” Heather commented dryly, glancing out the windows and scanning the street for any sign of Paris, Chakotay, or Kim.
Janeway rolled her eyes at the half Betazoid’s comment.
“Is she alwyas like this?” Lisa joked.
“Yes,” Torres shot back with a grin.
Seven was the first one to spot the three men from their table at the Rainforest Restuarant, which was an indoor/outdoor restuarant. Macaws sat on perches in the back, and tropical plants adorned the restaurant. “Tom! Chakotay! Harry! Over here!” she called, standing up and waving. The three men quickly made their way through the twisted path surrounded by tables occupied with people, and took their seats.
“Hi, there,” Tom commented huskily, to Lisa as he draped his arm around her. Lisa’s blue eyes sparkled as she giggled and then kissed him firmly on the lips.
Everyone at the table laughed, but all of a sudden B’Elanna had lost her appetite.
To Be Continued . . .Copyright April 1999 by Jane Griffen; e-mail me at JaneG100@rocketmail.com