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Disclaimer time once again!   Sixty-seventh verse same as 
the first . .everybody *sing*:

I don't own these characters, (chorus) Paramount does!
I don't own this venue, (chorus) Paramount does!
I am making no money off of this, (chorus) Paramount does 
not either!

This story will eventually involve sex between two men, aka: 
slash.  If that is *not* your cup of tea, sweet as it is, then 
don't read it!  (simple, ain't it??) Feedback is *very* much 
appreciated, and always answered.  Flames will be passed 
around to friends and chuckled over.  :)

Fifteenth in the Stage Direction series.  Sequel to 'Ssst', 
'Growl', 'Chuckle', 'Sob', 'Grin', 'Sigh', 'Smile', 'Yawn', 
'Whisper', 'Groan', 'Hover', 'Waffle', 'Comfort', and 'Fidget'.

'Grimace' by Amirin <groh@iquest.net>


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The first thing I see is his smile.  Then, I see his face.  Pale, 
too pale.  And he still looks tired.  Oh, dear.

"Good Morning, Tom."

"'Morning, Neelix.  So, what can I do to help?" 

I take his arm and steer him over to the counter he usually 
sits on and he hops up, looking puzzled.

"At the moment, I'd just like the company."

<sigh>  I do love his smile.  But, that pale face is nothing to 
grin at.  Eyes a little too bright, if you ask me, which you 
didn't, but I'm volunteering the information, anyway.  Must be 
from the meds the good Doctor has him on.  I do hope 
they're helping.  I just can't bear seeing him in pain.

"Well, now.  What's the prognosis?"

<grimace>

"I'm off duty for the next couple of weeks, pending medical 
release.  I *hate* this, Neelix.  Think about it.  Me, fourteen 
days, and not a damned thing to do.  I'll be redefining the 
word 'lunatic' by then."

"Won't he let you work in Sickbay?"

"He doesn't want me 'under foot'. His words, not mine." 

<pause>

"Well, if *you* don't mind spending your time here in the 
galley, *I* wouldn't mind the extra help . . ."

"Are you sure?  I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd love to, but 
this is your territory, Neelix.  I don't want to get in your way."

<snort>

"Nonsense.  I'd love to have you here. We can catch up on 
all the talks we had when you were unconscious . . ."

<chuckle>  <wink>  <nudge>

<laugh>  "Well, then, you've got a deal.  Thanks, Neelix.  A 
lot."

"Now, not another word about it, Tom.  Believe me, I know 
how much trouble you'd get into, if left to your own devices."

<snort>  <sardonic grin>  "Oh, thanks a *whole* lot, Neelix."

<laugh>  "Any time, Tom.  Any time."

<pause>  <grimace>

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, really.  There are things I could do, but the Doc 
said I shouldn't do a whole lot by myself, not yet.  I can't 
even go for a *walk* without supervision."

"Well, don't look on it as being supervised, then.  I mean, if I 
went with you, it would be for company, not because I was 
trying to keep an eye on you."

<soft smile>  "You'd do that?"

"Why, goodness, yes!  In fact, I still have that program you 
wrote for Kes a couple of years ago.  I'd love to go through 
it, again."

<stunned look>  "You *kept* it?"

<swift nod>  "Of course, I did.  It was one of her favorite 
places . . ."  <hurriedly>  "Not that it was real for her or 
anything, you understand.  She just knew I'd have a better 
chance of seeing the real thing than she ever would and she 
wanted to enjoy whatever version of it she could, with me. 
So, believe me when I tell you, Kes *loved* New Orleans. 
She loved the music, she loved the people, the architecture, 
the color, the noise, the gaiety, all of it.  And she loved that 
you gave it to her." <quietly>  "Of course I kept it.  I still go 
there, on occasion, indeed I do.  And if I live long enough to 
see the real place, it will still remind me of her. Can you 
imagine?  A place on Earth, that will remind me of Kes.  I 
can't thank you enough for that, Tom.  I just don't know 
how."

<hushed> "You just did."  <soft smile>  "She wanted 
to see someplace that was vibrant and alive, loud and 
beautiful.  She wanted warmth and flowers and music and 
laughter.  I told her about Mardi Gras.  And she wanted to 
see it . . ."

<grasp shoulder>  "She found it in her quarters after you left 
for the Talaxian convoy.  I must confess, it bothered me . . ." 
<hurriedly>  "Just a little, you understand.  I mean, we could 
see your hand in so much of it.  Both of us . . ."

<grimace>  "Neelix, I . . ."

"Now, don't even think about apologizing, Tom.  She thought 
it was the only thing we had left of you.  We both did, 
actually.  But, it was such a wonderful place.  We went 
dancing in some of the jazz clubs, walked all through the 
French Quarter, toured the cemeteries . . ."  <chuckle>  "We
even sat on a parade float and waved at people.  She had 
on more *necklaces* than I have *spots*."

<shared laughter>

"I'd love to see it again.  With you.  And I certainly wouldn't 
consider it 'supervising'."

<smile>  "I'd like that, Neelix.  I'd like it a lot."

"Well, then, it's settled.  After lunch, you can show me 
around New Orleans."

<grin>  "You've got it."

<smile>  "Good.  Now, how about giving me a hand with 
these vegetables?"


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