NOTE: A long time ago in the hiatus between Voyager's first two seasons...three months before "Elogium" and a full year before "Resolutions"...years before Seven of Nine was a gleam in anyone's eye...I wrote a bit of J/C fluff called "Everybody Comes to Sandrine's." The basic premise was this: Two years into Voyager's long journey, a newlywed couple approaches the command team to ask for permission to have a child. Their request inspires the command duo to have a deep discussion about the prospect of families on Voyager, and that discussion becomes the catalyst for their own romantic relationship. The couple...was Harry and B'Elanna. (Stop laughing! It was a mainstream ship!) The story was rendered non-canon about five minutes after I wrote it, and not just because of P/T. But people still stumble across it occasionally, and I still get nice comments about it even now.

Fast-forward to late summer of 2012 and Kirsten Beyer's novel The Eternal Tide, which I mostly enjoyed in spite of a plot I found almost indecipherable – and I've read Ulysses. (Twice.) I feel like there's a lot of unfinished business in that novel and in its predecessors, especially Full Circle. As soon as I closed the book, my mind started seizing on those little character moments that Beyer probably had to leave out in favor of allowing the plot to unfold, or maybe hold for the next book, due in January. This story explores one of those little moments, one that I just couldn't let go...because I felt I'd already written it, just from a slightly different perspective.

Be forewarned: There are major spoilers here for The Eternal Tide and Full Circle. And you need not have read "Everybody Comes to Sandrine's" for this story to make sense, although it might be kind of fun to see how they stack up against each other. You'll find it on my stories page.

Without further ado, I give you:

SANDRINE'S 2.0: YOU MUST REMEMBER THIS

Part 1

They were doing it again.

Harry Kim leaned against his console at Tactics and watched them in the middle of Voyager's bridge, the Captain and the Admiral, heads bent close together, whispering over the console between them. Captain Chakotay was in his usual center seat, but the Admiral sat perched on the edge of the First Officer's chair. Tom had excused himself from the bridge almost an hour before on some unspecified errand, so when Admiral Janeway had wandered onto the Bridge just before the end of the watch and found the seat empty...and when Captain Chakotay had smiled and asked her to stay...of course she had sat down beside him, as if it were the most natural thing in the Universe.

Except for the additional pips on all their collars, Harry mused, the shifting of some roles and a few gray hairs, it was almost like old times. Voyager was traversing a relatively stable part of the Delta Quadrant, Tom was probably up to some mischief belowdecks with B'Elanna and little Miral, and Janeway and Chakotay were physically trying to close the distance between them in the center of the Bridge.

Yes, it was almost like old times.

Almost.

There was one distinct difference, and that made all the difference.

Harry leaned his elbows on the console and smiled, watching them.

Most everyone on Voyager was now aware that the Admiral and the Captain were... What? "A couple" seemed ridiculous and juvenile, and "in a relationship" seemed inadequate, given everything they'd been through together.

Together. Maybe that was the word for it. Together now in every way, in the only way they hadn't been on their first trip through the Delta Quadrant.

Harry was ecstatic for them. No two people in all the Universe deserved more happiness than these two, as far as he was concerned. They'd put their own lives aside for seven long years during their first foray into the Delta Quadrant, focusing instead on getting their wayward crew home in one piece. More recently, they'd all spent fourteen horrible months under the misapprehension that Janeway was dead – or worse, assimilated. Then, on the mission that brought Janeway back to them, Chakotay attempted to sacrifice himself in order to save the crew and the fleet and...the Universe, really. But Q Junior had intervened at the last moment, returning Chakotay to the land of the living, dropping him at Janeway's feet against all odds and the elder Q's vehement objections.

It had been a bizarre fourteen months.

But what had Janeway said to him once? We're in Starfleet. Weird is part of the job.

Truer words were never spoken.

So now Harry found himself leaning against the Tactics console watching the two people he admired most exchange whispers in the center of the Bridge. They hadn't been conspicuously demonstrative since their reunion, but it was pretty common knowledge that they were spending all of their off-duty time together, and sleeping in the same quarters. Their legendary dedication to duty hadn't wavered even once, and Harry had no doubt that if a hostile alien ship were to drop out of warp in front of them, both the Admiral and the Captain would spring into action without missing a beat. But for now, with no crisis looming and no enemies on the horizon, they only had eyes for each other, oblivious to the activity around them.

Not that there was much activity today. Most of the Alpha shift had apparently decided to take advantage of the quiet region of space to pursue long-neglected repairs, projects and sleep. The relief navigator was staring at the viewscreen and drumming his fingers on the console, heedless of the cozy scene playing out behind him. Even Seven, standing at Harry's old Ops station, looked bored. Harry wondered if she could hear Janeway and Chakotay. He'd never been able to from that position, but Seven's superior auditory sense might give her an advantage there that he'd never had. Not that she would ever disclose what she'd heard, even if she could hear. Seven was very protective of Janeway and Chakotay and would likely keep whatever she'd heard entirely to herself.

When the word "thigh" drifted up from the center seats, Harry almost wished he were back at his old station. He glanced over at Seven, whose expression didn't waver, and resisted the urge to cover his ears.

It had been quite a shock to find out that from the Tactics station, virtually every word spoken in the center of the Bridge was audible. Tuvok must have stood there for seven long years overhearing endless conversations about dogs and food and who knows what else – and arguments about policies and tactics. Tom had always said that from helm he could only make out bits and pieces of whatever Janeway and Chakotay were discussing behind him, but Tuvok...Tuvok must have heard it all. And the wily old Vulcan had never said a thing, even though those little end-of-watch chats were legendary.

And they were doing it again.

"My whole body hurts," Janeway murmured, and Harry's eyes widened.

Chakotay rubbed his chin. "Maybe we're overdoing it."

Harry almost groaned out loud.

Janeway shifted in her seat. "I feel...creaky."

"Creaky?"

She nodded. "Old and worn out. I know I'm out of practice, but it's been weeks. Shouldn't I have gotten the hang of it again? Isn't it like riding a bicycle?"

Harry covered his eyes with his hand.

Chakotay shifted a little further toward her in his seat. "Can you elaborate on 'creaky?' Is it a deep-tissue ache, or more centered in the joints?"

"Neither. I just feel...brittle."

"That sounds like it could be leftover lactic acidosis, but last night's buildup should have dissipated by now." The Captain frowned. "I think we are overdoing it, Kathryn."

Janeway sighed. "This was so much easier when I was younger."

"Agreed. But that's why we just have to keep at it."

"Practice makes perfect, Captain?"

Harry cringed. "Exactly," the Captain smirked. "Let's take a break tonight. Have a nice meal and go back at it tomorrow."

"But can we take the intensity down a notch?"

"Only temporarily, I hope?"

"Oh, of course." Janeway glanced up at the Tactics station. "Harry, can I ask your opinion about something?"

Harry nearly jumped out of his socks. "Of course, Admiral. What can I do for you?"

"Captain Chakotay and I have been working through the Doc's fitness routine and the self-defense regimen you suggested to get me back to fighting form, but it's all a little too intense for me. Think you can adjust the intensity for a middle-aged woman who's been dead for fourteen months?"

Harry blushed furiously with the realization that they hadn't been talking about that at all. "I...of course, Admiral."

Seven piped up from across the Bridge. "Might I point out, Admiral, that you were not technically deceased for those fourteen months?"

Janeway whirled around in the chair. "If I wasn't dead, what was I?"

Seven cocked her head to one side. "Suspended."

Chakotay gave a light chuckle. "'Suspended.' I like that."

Waving a hand at them both, Janeway turned back to Harry. "Dead or suspended, I'm not as strong, quick or flexible as I once was, and between the running, the heavy bag, the drills and sparring with the Captain here, I feel tired and...creaky. I'll talk to the Doc about the fitness part, but Harry, your regimen is just a little too much. I don't want your Security staff to feel like they have to coddle me whenever I leave the ship, but I think I need to bring down the intensity for a while. Can you design a new scheme for me?"

He gave her a quick nod. "Yes, Admiral. I'll have something for you in the morning."

"Thank you." She turned to Chakotay again. "In the meantime, Captain, I think you said something about a nice meal and a rest?"

"It would be my pleasure, Admiral. Come on over after shift and I'll replicate anything you want."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Anything?"

He leaned far to his left, practically climbing out of his chair and into hers. "Anything, Kathryn."

Harry cleared his throat.

Janeway glanced up at him and then dropped her voice to a mock-whisper. "Careful, Captain. The crew are listening."

"I think they know, Admiral."

Harry rolled his eyes. "All due respect, Captain, but we'd have to be deaf not to."

"And blind," Seven added.

The relief navigator chuckled silently, his shoulders shaking.

God, I've missed this, Harry thought.

In spite of all the losses and setbacks, or maybe because of them, it was good to be able to laugh again, even for a moment. Harry could never have imagined that after everything they'd been through, he'd find himself still on the Bridge of the Voyager, cruising through the Delta Quadrant again. After her return, Harry had assumed that Admiral Janeway would order the remaining fleet back to the Alpha Quadrant to regroup. And yet, here they were, and at her command. Harry had wondered briefly who had talked her out of taking the safe route.

His speculation had stopped when Captain Chakotay had addressed the crews of all the remaining ships in a stirring, impassioned speech outlining all the good they could still do in the Delta Quadrant. He hadn't soft-pedaled the danger they would face, and he'd given every person the option of returning to the Alpha Quadrant. A few had. But most had stayed.

There was still good work to be done in the Delta Quadrant, and Harry was proud to be among those chosen to do it. Tom and B'Elanna had stayed on board, too, along with Seven of Nine and Hugh Cambridge, the Doc, most of Chakotay's former crew... And Nancy.

Harry smiled to himself. He had high hopes for that new development. He glanced at the chrono and drummed his fingertips on the console. He and Nancy were working different shifts, but they were still managing to find time to spend together after the end of Beta shift most days. It left Harry with time to kill between the end of his shift and hers, but so far he'd found plenty to occupy him. He and Tom had resurrected Sandrine's, the popular Holodeck bar from their first trip through the Delta Quadrant, and Harry was enjoying getting to know his new crewmates over the pool table there.

He was just about to check on the Holodeck schedule when the lift doors open and Tom and B'Elanna strolled out. "Hey, guys," Harry said, and smiled.

They both nodded at him and joined him at his console. "Dinner and Sandrine's?" he asked.

They exchanged a glance. "Not tonight, Harry," Tom said quietly. He glanced at the center seats and back again. "We need to talk to the Captain and the Admiral."

"Oh." Harry fought to keep the disappointment out of his voice. "Okay."

B'Elanna elbowed him in the ribs. "You probably have plans with Nancy anyway, right?"

Harry shook his head. "She's on Beta this month. I'll catch her later."

Tom smiled, but it seemed forced. "Tomorrow night?"

"Sure," Harry nodded. "Tomorrow night."

They both nodded at him and continued to the center of the Bridge.

I wonder what that's all about, Harry wondered, and leaned on his console to watch.

Tom and B'Elanna stepped in front of the Admiral and Captain, who both looked up and smiled. "Good of my First Officer to turn up at his post just in time for the end of the watch," Chakotay said.

Tom cleared his throat. "My apologies, sir. I had some things to discuss with my wife."

Janeway frowned, looking from one to the other. "Is everything all right?"

"Admiral, Captain, we'd like to speak with you, if you have a minute," B'Elanna said, and Harry wasn't sure he'd ever heard her voice so tentative.

Chakotay held B'Elanna's eyes. "If this is ship's business, then by all means."

B'Elanna shifted her feet nervously. "It's both ship's business and personal," she said. "And we'd like both of you to be present."

Harry watched the command officers exchange a glance, communicating silently, as they had done for years. Then Chakotay nodded at them. "All right. Harry, you have the Bridge."

"Aye, Captain," Harry acknowledged, but stayed at his station.

Janeway ushered Tom and B'Elanna into the Captain's Ready Room, Chakotay following close behind her, one hand on the small of her back. Harry smiled, watching them.

The door slid closed after them. Harry drummed his fingers on his console, his brows knit together, trying to guess what kind of personal matter his two friends would want to discuss with the Captain and Admiral on such a quiet afternoon. With a shrug, he pulled up the Admiral's self-defense training regimen and settled in to wait. When relief crew arrived for Alpha Shift, two Lieutenant Commanders Harry didn't know well slid into the center seats, Ensign Brill took over Tactical, and Harry moved to a side console.

Twenty minutes later, while he was pulling together a less rigorous hand-to-hand combat training routine for the Admiral, the Ready Room door opened again. B'Elanna and Tom emerged first, hand-in-hand. They looked…shell-shocked. Harry's hands stilled on console. Admiral Janeway emerged a second later, looking bewildered. The Captain did not emerge.

Harry watched the trio cross the bridge wordlessly. He wasn't usually a nosy person, but something about his friends' expressions – upset, confused – and the Admiral's bright eyes alarmed him. He saved his file, shut down his console and followed them into the lift.

They rode in silence for several decks. Tom wrapped his arm around B'Elanna. Janeway rubbed her forehead. Harry leaned against the wall, staring at them all. No one spoke.

The lift slowed to a halt and Janeway started to exit, but B'Elanna caught her by the sleeve. "We want to thank you for your help, Admiral."

Janeway paused, holding the lift doors with one hand. She glanced at Harry, who gave her a small smile, and then turned back to Tom and B'Elanna. "You have all my support," she said softly, "and I'll do everything I can to make your case with Chakotay. But it's his ship. Ultimately his decision, whatever it is, will stand."

Tom and B'Elanna exchanged a glance. "I don't understand why he reacted the way he did," B'Elanna said. "We didn't expect that."

Tom gave a soft, humorless chuckle. "I guess we took him by surprise."

Janeway shook her head sadly. "So did I."

Tom placed his hand on the Admiral's shoulder. "I didn't mean-"

Janeway bit her lip and looked away, and in an awful instant, Harry thought he saw her choke back tears. "I'll talk to him," she murmured. "But I can't promise you anything." Then she let go of the lift doors and withdrew.

Harry felt as though the universe had tilted beneath his feat. Half an hour ago, he'd been watching the Captain and the Admiral practically snuggling in the center of the Bridge. Now something was terribly wrong. "What's going on?" he asked when the lift resumed.

B'Elanna shook her head at him and turned away. Tom put his arm around her again, and she snuggled into his side. "Later, Harry," he said. "We'll tell you, but… Later. Okay?"

Harry rocked back on his heels. "I can't help?"

Tom gave him a sad, tired smile. "Not this time, Buster," he said. "Not yet."

"But later?"

Tom nodded. "Later." The lift stopped at their deck. Tom and B'Elanna stepped off, but Harry stayed behind. "Coming?"

Harry shook his head. "Think I'll go to Sandrine's for a while."

The doors closed again.

Harry was seated in his usual chair at Sandrine's before it occurred to him that at least until the end of Beta shift, he would probably be drinking alone.

-END Part 1-