Tim's Birthday - Part 1 Lieutenant (j.g.) Tim O'Neill was so tired that even his eyes hurt. The dull ache was making it difficult to focus on the hallway in front of him. He had spent the entire day refitting the communication relays, and now, at eleven p.m., all he wanted to do now was to go to bed. He had cancelled his dinner with Loni, knowing that he wouldn't be very good company right now. She had said she understood, but Tim could tell by the look in her eyes and the quiver in her voice that she had been looking forward to the meal. Mind you, he thought as he opened the door to his cabin, it was his birthday, and knowing Loni she had been planning something special. He would have to make it up to her, he thought as he opened the door to his cabin. But first he needed sleep. "Hello, you must be Tim." At first he thought he must be hallucinating that there was a woman in his cabin, but he blinked and rubbed his tired eyes and she was still there, sitting in the chair at his desk. The woman's long blonde hair was draped over her left shoulder and she was dressing in a strapless bikini that left little to the imagination. Her top, if that's what you'd call it, resembled a large, red bow. "Happy Birthday." "Ummm . . . who are you?" "My name's Donna, and I am *your* birthday present." She stood up and walked over to him. She took one strand of her "bow" and put it in Tim's hand. He looked at the piece of red fabric in his palm. I am definitely not hallucinating, he thought, but with god as my witness, I don't know what to do. "Aren't you going to open your gift?" she asked seductively. Before he could answer there was a knocking at his half-open door. "Tim?" He recognized Loni's voice and spun around to face her. Unfortunately he forgot to let go of the end of the bow Donna had placed in his hand. "I came to make sure you were o . . .," Loni's voice trailed off as she focused on the half-naked woman standing behind him. She took a few seconds to absorb the scene in front of her and then burst out, "I thought you had a headache!?!" "Loni," Tim started to explain and then caught sight of the red bikini top still in his hand. Full realization of what was standing behind him sunk in. He dropped the top like a hot potato, and put his head in his hands. "Oh no." "Tim," Loni asked angrily, "what is going on?" "When I opened the door tonight," he said slowly, "she was sitting there in my chair. That's all I know. I swear!" Loni looked at him intently for a few minutes and then turned back to the half-clothed blonde, who was watching the whole scene with an amused look on her face. "Who hired you?" * * * * Fifteen minutes later he and Loni had Donna back in her top, and were sneaking the woman to Docking Bay Two. They had also gotten her into the trench coat she had brought with her. Loni had wanted to go back to her cabin to get the woman some clothes, but Tim's increasing distress had persuaded her that getting the stripper out of his room and off the ship were of primary importance. So here they were skulking in the shadows, like criminals, trying to get to a shuttle without being seen. Donna wasn't helping much, as she refused to do any running or crouching. Still, they had managed to get her most of the way. Now he and the stripper were standing in a doorway, waiting for an all clear sign from Loni. Of course it would be at this point that Ensign Irish and Chief McCulloch would choose to go by. Tim tried to look casual as the two crewmen passed, though they were giving him strange looks. Donna waved. "What is it about O'Neill," Brian asked as they turned the corner. "How come he gets all the babes?" "I don't know," Cam answered as they turned the corner continued down the hall. "Maybe it's the glasses?" Tim wanted the deck to open up and swallow him whole. "Come on," Loni poked her head around the corner. "The docking bay doors are open." "At this time of night?" "I know it's strange, but I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth." The two of them started to herd Donna into the docking bay toward on of the shuttles. "What are we going to tell the bridge about us taking out a shuttle?" Tim asked, nervously glancing around. "I'm going to tell them that I am taking you out for a romantic night sub ride to celebrate your birthday." She said as they reached the shuttle. "I had the whole thing cleared with Lieutenant Cardenas for tonight anyways." She sounded bitter. Tim knew he had better make this up to her. Loni crossed over to the docking bay's main console and began to enter the code to unlock the shuttle's door. Tim heard voices approaching the docking bay. "Someone's coming! Hurry up!" he hissed at her. "The system's slow tonight, I'm going as fast as I can!" Loni entered a few more codes. A soft clink and hiss were heard as shuttle Number 3's doors began to open. The voices were almost in the docking bay. Loni ran towards the shuttle. Tim tried to hurry Donna along, but the stripper was still sticking by the no running, no crouching rule. Loni entered the shuttle and went to the pilot's section. They were close enough that Tim could identify two of the three voices. One was Commander Ford's, and the other was Captain Bridger's. Which meant that the other had to be Admiral Smith's. With an adrenaline rush brought on by fear, Tim reached down, picked Donna up and ran for the sub. "O'Neill!" Obviously not fast enough as Commander Ford's voice boomed across the docking bay. Years of training caused him to skid to a stop. "What are you doing here?" Tim didn't dare turn around. "Lieutenant you are supposed to face a superior officer when they are speaking to you," Admiral Smith admonished him. Tim was trapped. He slowly turned around to face them, holding a buxom, blonde woman in an open trench coat and a strapless bikini. * * * * To be continued in Part 2 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Deanna Toxopeus | !!!!!SAVE SEAQUEST!!!!! Carleton University | Bring back Roy Scheider and Darwin dtoxopeu@ccs.carleton.ca | email: maryflr@best.com for details ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- "If you kiss a toad, you don't get a prince - you get slime in your mouth and bad memories." Dr. Laura Schlessinger Ten Stupid Things Women Do To Mess Up Their Lives ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Tim's Birthday -- Part 2 Sensor Chief Miguel Ortiz leaned up against the wall outside the captain's wardroom. He had been asleep when Commander Ford had ordered him to report to the Wardroom immediately. Miguel had no idea what this was all about until he saw Lieutenant Brody waiting outside the wardroom. The arrival of Tony and Lucas confirmed it. They shouldn't have hired the stripper. They should have just taken Tim to a club, and gotten him drunk. He should have never let the three of them talk him into this. Tim and Loni's departure from the Wardroom confirmed these thoughts. Loni shot him a furious glance. Tim wouldn't even look at him. "Gentlemen!" Ford yelled from the Wardroom. "Come in!" Both he and the Captain sat at the meeting table in the Wardroom, their faces grim. As they entered, he pointed at the chairs in front of the Captain. "Sit!" Captain Bridger remained quiet for a few minutes and then said, "this birthday thing has gone too far." Brody leaned forward, "Captain, we were only. . . " "Don't try and justify this Brody!" Ford cut off seaQuest's tactical officer with a slice of his hand. "Bringing unauthorized personnel on board a UEO vessel contravenes at least five regulations. You above all people should know that!" Captain Bridger took up where his XO had left off. "I had to explain to Admiral Smith why there was a stripper in the docking bay. Explaining something is difficult when you don't know the reasons." "I appreciate," he continued, "that you were trying to do something that you thought was `nice' for O'Neill's birthday, but this was out of line. What were you thinking of? I'm going to try and keep this off your records, but you're all going to have to be disciplined. As of now, your leaves are cancelled and you've all been assigned extra shifts -- including you," he remarked pointedly to the youngest of the culprits seated before him. "If you boys have enough free time to get yourselves in trouble, then I'm going to make sure you don't have any free time at all." * * * * "Whoa! Talk about over reacting," Tony said flippantly once they were out of hearing range from the Wardroom. "You know, the problem with this whole situation ain't with us. It's with Lieutenant O'Neill. It's exactly like I said, he doesn't know what to do when he's got a hot woman on his hands." They rounded the corner and came face to face with Loni Henderson. "The problem is he has jerks for friends." Her voice was hardly above a whisper, yet they all cringed. Miguel thought he had to defend himself. "Loni," he began. "Miguel you've been his friend the longest. You should have known how he would react to finding a stripper in his room! He is completely embarrassed by this whole situation -- which, by the way, will be all over the ship by 8:00 a.m. tomorrow. He was nearly in tears by the time I got him back to his cabin." "It wasn't Miguel's idea Loni," Brody tried to explain. "I don't care whose idea it was!" She turned her head, fixing her glare on Brody. "Tim is up for promotion and guess who sits on the promotion board. That's right, Admiral Smith." She gave a wry laugh, "I guess he can kiss that raise goodbye." "But Loni -- Wendy and the captain will put in a good word for Tim with the admiral. He'll still get his promotion," Lucas reminded her. Loni was not in the mood to be appeased and she told him so. "Don't try and sugar-coat this Lucas. You've never been up before a promotion board and you have no idea how much this means to Tim." She looked at Piccolo. "And you," she said her voice filled full of contempt, "I don't even want to speak to you." Miguel listened to her whole tirade, feeling guiltier and guiltier as she went along. She was right. He should have known Tim would panic when greeted by the stripper in his cabin. He should have never agreed to the scheme. Oh god, poor Tim. "You're going to make this up to him. In fact, you're going to make it up to both of us." Loni's statement broke into Miguel's mental flogging. "Tim and I were supposed to go out for a romantic dinner tonight. We couldn't. You're going to provide th at dinner for us." She took a piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it to Miguel. "That is a list of Tim's favourite foods. You are going to cook them for us tomorrow. You will then serve them to us at 7:30 p.m. sharp." Piccolo looked at the list in dismay. "But we all have extra duties!" he protested. "That's your problem, not mine." There was silence as she stood there glaring at them, arms crossed. "Okay Loni," Miguel said. "We'll do it." "But," Tony began to object again. "We'll do it!" Piccolo shrank back at the vehemence of Miguel's statement. Ortiz looked at Brody and Lucas for their consent. Both shook their heads in agreement. Loni looked satisfied. "Okay then. I'm going to go get permission from the Captain to take Tim upworld tomorrow. I'll see you gentlemen at 7:30 p.m." She headed towards the Wardroom. When she was out of hearing range, Piccolo looked at Miguel and said, "but I can't cook!" * * * * To be continued in Part 3 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Deanna Toxopeus | !!!!!SAVE SEAQUEST!!!!! Carleton University | Bring back Roy Scheider and Darwin dtoxopeu@ccs.carleton.ca | email: maryflr@best.com for details ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- "If you kiss a toad, you don't get a prince - you get slime in your mouth and bad memories." Dr. Laura Schlessinger Ten Stupid Things Women Do To Mess Up Their Lives ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Tim's Birthday - Part 3 At 1500 hours the following day Ortiz stretched and sighed before taking off his headset and handing it to his relief at sensors, Hoo. He slid out of his seat and left the bridge, finally at liberty after an eight hour shift that had begun at 0700. His inclination was to head for his bunk and a long nap. He had gotten to bed late after the fiasco with the stripper and their subsequent "interview" with Capt. Bridger and Cmdr. Ford. Then he had spent a restless night, tossing and turning with guilt and hoping that Tim would forgive him for his role in last night's little surprise. He and Tim had been through a lot together, and he had seen the communications officer in a lot of moods, but never had he seen him so angry. He fervently hoped, as he wandered towards the captain's galley, that he would never see Tim that angry again. He'd rather face an infuriated Loni Henderson a thousand times over. He walked into the galley located just off the captain's wardroom smothering a yawn. Lucas, perched on one of the gleaming counters, gave him a friendly wave. The kid looked as tired as Miguel felt -- large purple smudges beneath his blue eyes made them seem droopier than ever. Miguel stifled another yawn before asking, "Where's everyone else?" as he sank into a chair. Lucas shrugged. Lieutenant Brody chose that moment to stride in and Miguel wondered idly what would happen to him if he threw his shoe at the bright-eyed tactical officer. Jim Brody had a knack for always appearing fresh-faced and well-rested no matter what he had been doing the night before and at the moment that quality particularly annoyed Miguel. He yawned again as Lucas finally responded, "That just leaves Tony." "Where is he?" Brody asked as he hopped up onto the counter beside Lucas. He checked his watch. "It's 15:10 and he's got all the groceries! I'd hoped to get this finished early. I'm supposed to meet Terisa in the lounge at 21:00." "You know Tony," Miguel said, "Perpetually-late-Piccolo. We'll be lucky if he gets back before Tim and Loni do." Lucas dropped to the floor and walked over to the enormous refrigerator. He yanked the door open and stood staring into its depths for a moment. He turned back, still holding the door open, "Well it looks like we'll be serving carrot and celery sticks then." "Great," Brody replied dubiously. Miguel chuckled as he peered over Lucas's shoulder into the refrigerator. "We could always raid the mess and serve corndogs and macaroni and cheese for their romantic birthday dinner." "Hey! What's wrong with corndogs?" an indignant voice inquired from the doorway. They turned as one to find Tony standing there, two large bags of groceries clutched in his arms. He walked unsteadily into the room causing Brody and Ortiz to quickly relieve him of their weight. "Chiu and Seet are bringing up the other bags," he informed them as he pulled a half-eaten corn-dog from the bag Jim had set on the counter and resumed eating it. They stared in amazement at him ate the batter-covered tube of meat, until he grew uncomfortable and yelped, "What?" Rather then argue with the cocky seaman, they turned their attention to unloading the bags. French bread, several heads of lettuce, and two of red cabbage, olives, a package of bacon, two packages of mozzarella cheese, and a small bottle of cooking wine emerged in rapid succession from the bags. "Here are the other bags," Seaman Chiu called out as she and Seet walked in lugging two more bags. They set the bags down and beat a hasty retreat from the room afraid they would be recruited to help with the meal the entire boat was talking about. Lucas dug into the bags and pulled out tomatoes, garlic, onions, lemons, poppy seeds, several pounds of potatoes, feta cheese and a bag of peas. "Do you think you bought enough?" he asked Tony facetiously. "Tony? Why'd you buy bacon?" inquired Ortiz as he checked through the grocery list they had given Tony that morning. "And where's the prosciutto, the zucchinis, mushrooms and *green* cabbage you were supposed to get?" Piccolo hesitated trying to come up with a better explanation than the truth, but Ortiz was getting impatient. "I lost the list," he blurted out. "I had it this morning when I left the boat and then it was gone. I bought everything from memory." They were all glaring at him. "I guess my memory wasn't so good," he admitted a little shamefacedly. Lucas was the first to speak, muttering "Great, just great," slightly dismayed by the thought of Loni's renewed wrath when she discovered their latest screw-up. Brody looked over at him and said sharply, "Pipe down kid. There's nothing we can do about it now -- we'll just have to make do." He checked his watch and then continued, "Look we'd better get started -- they'll be here in about four hours. Ortiz, read me the list of what we're supposed to be making here." Miguel looked at the list of dishes Loni had thrust into his hands the night before and began reading. "We got Greek salad and a Portuguese soup that Tim really likes . . . bread, Russian potato pancakes, sauteed zucchinis and peas, and chicken breasts stuffed with prosciutto and smoked mozzarella topped with a tomato-mushroom-wine sauce. And, of course, birthday cake. A lemon poppy-seed one to be specific." "Geez!" Jim exclaimed on hearing the dishes they were supposed to undertake. "Tim would have to have weird taste. Does anyone know how to make any of this stuff?" "Yeah, I can make the cake," Tony said, putting his hand up. "My Aunt Grace taught me," he explained in response to their looks of surprise. "I thought you said you couldn't cook." "Cooking and baking are two completely different things Lieutenant." "If you say so. Lucas -- you help Tony with the cake." Brody looked at the menu again. "And you boys can take the salad too, that's hard to mess up. Anyone else?" "I think I could do the chicken," Miguel said. "When you come from a family as large as mine," he offered by way of explanation, "you have to help make dinner if you want to eat." "Okay," Brody made a small rip on the list to check that dish off. "I'll help. We can both do the soup -- with the *red* cabbage. That leaves the potatoes and the peas, minus the zucchini. Can you guys handle that?" Lucas and Tony nodded. "Good then let's get started." * * * * To be continued Part 4 . . . ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Deanna Toxopeus | !!!!!SAVE SEAQUEST!!!!! Carleton University | Bring back Roy Scheider and Darwin dtoxopeu@ccs.carleton.ca | email: maryflr@best.com for details ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- "If you kiss a toad, you don't get a prince - you get slime in your mouth and bad memories." Dr. Laura Schlessinger Ten Stupid Things Women Do To Mess Up Their Lives ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Tim's Birthday - Part 4 At 1700 hours the kitchen smelled divine and Brody, taking a deep whiff of the air smiled and said with obvious satisfaction, "Well -- I don't think Loni will be disappointed with this dinner." "What are you doing?" The aroma drifting into the corridor had drawn Dagwood into the kitchen. The sight of his friends working feverishly in the kitchen instead of in their typical haunts was curiosity-provoking for the Model K to say the least. Lucas turned. "Oh, hey Dagwood," he said waving at him with the glaze-covered mixer he held in his right hand. "We're making dinner for Tim's birthday," Miguel explained from his position by the stove. Dagwood took several more steps into the room until he was behind Lieutenant Brody standing in front of the stove. Dagwood peered over his shoulder and into the pan and asked, "What are you making?" Miguel lifted up a platter and held it out as Jim lifted out the first chicken breast. He stopped, holding the breast poised above the pan as he and Miguel stared at it. It looked horrible! Finally he set it down and answered Dagwood's question as he moved to scoop the other breast out of the sauce. "Ummm . . . it's chicken Dag," he said though his voice sounded doubtful, "Chicken breasts stuffed with cheese -- and bacon?". The three of them stared at the stuffed chicken breasts. "I see the chicken," Dagwood told them after a moment's thought, "But where's the bacon? -- Dag particularly liked bacon, he ate it every morning with his breakfast, but on the plate before them he saw nothing resembling bacon. Jim picked up a fork and prodded at a slice of limp grey matter hanging out of the chicken amidst the melted cheese. "That's the bacon," he said disgustedly. "I guess we should have fried it first," remarked Miguel raising his eyebrow as he met Brody's glance. Brody shook his head. "The recipe didn't say anything about frying it, but I don't see how we can serve this. It's disgusting." Miguel was about to agree with the lieutenant's assessment of the situation when Lucas's raised voice cut him off. "Tony back off!" the kid was saying. "I can make the glaze. You don't have to hover over me!" Miguel glanced at Brody who had turned to see what the ruckus was about and they both raised their eyebrows -- Lucas and Tony were bickering again. "Hey! Genius! I was just trying to help," Tony snapped back. "Well I don't need your help -- I can read a recipe! Why don't you go over there and take care of the potatoes? They're gonna burn if you don't watch them." "Quit tellin' me what to do Wolenczak!" Piccolo finally shouted, fed up by his roommate's snooty attitude. "You ain't my superior officer!" "Well if you had some common sense I wouldn't have to tell you what to do," the younger man shot back. Unfortunately Lucas misjudged where he was about to pound his fist and knocked the bowl of glaze to the floor, covering Tony's shiny new boots with lemon glaze. They both looked down at Tony's feet and the spreading pool of glaze he now stood in, then met each other's eyes again, Lucas's blue ones filled with horror, Tony's brown one's with perverse revenge. He purposefully stick his hand into a nearby bag of flour, pulled it out, and blew the flour into Lucas's face, causing him to sputter and cough. Tony then turned on his heel to walk away when he noticed the expressions on Brody and Miguel's faces as they looked over at Lucas. He spun back to see the kid launch an egg at him and ducked just in time. "Lucas!" he heard Brody shout behind him and looked over his shoulder to find that Lucas had nailed the lieutenant squarely in the chest with the egg. Tony dissolved into laughter and Miguel couldn't resist a hearty chuckle at the sight of Jim Brody, the occasionally too vain, resident heart-breaker of the boat, with raw egg splattered over his face and uniform. Initially annoyed by their laughter, Jim quickly realized how ridiculous he must look and decided it was only fair that he contribute a little more to their growing hilarity. Before the others could react he had scooped three tomatoes from the counter and let them fly. SPLAT - SPLAT - SPLAT - and then he grinned widely. "Strike three! You're out!" he crowed. The others retaliated in kind and before long there was not a clean surface to be found in the galley. Dagwood, for his part, simply tried to avoid the barrage of food flying through the air during the epic battle between his nearly hysterical chums until he noticed the pan of potatoes, neglected on the stove, beginning to smoke . . . * * * * *BREEP BREEP BREEP BREEP* -- "What the hell is that?" Commander Ford shouted leaping from the captain's chair. He'd been daydreaming about having dinner with Lieutenant DuMont and the possible alternatives to the traditional dessert when the shrill squack of the alarm had commanded his attention. "Fire alarm in the captain's galley," Hoo reported from the sensor station. The commander punched the com-link on the console, "Fire team A to the captain's galley. I'll meet you there." He pointed at Lieutenant Cardenas. "You have the bridge lieutenant," and then headed at a run for the galley praying that whatever it was didn't interfere with his evening plans. He arrived at the galley a few steps behind the fire team who had stopped abruptly at the door. Horror and amusement played across their faces as they clustered around the opening and Jonathan had to push his way through them to discover what had stopped them in their tracks. At least the fire's been contained, he thought as he too came to a halt and his jaw dropped open. Dagwood had extinguished the grease fire and now stood beside the stove looking mildly embarrassed to be caught in such a mess. Ford looked around the disaster area. Broken eggs, flour, sugar, tomatoes . . . everything covered the floors and walls. Surveying the destruction, Ford was not surprised to see the four men who stood in the midst of it all. Jonathan took a few steps further into the room being careful to avoid the remains of a cheese-filled chicken breast. He reminded himself that bursting into laughter while reprimanding them would not be appropriate, and then asked, putting the steel into his voice, "What the hell happened in here?". No one responded, all preferring to examine what they could see of their shoelaces. Jonathan surveyed them -- they looked like nothing more than four schoolboys caught red-handed writing on the bathroom walls -- except that all were old enough to know better and at least one of them was a commissioned officer in the UEO. He targeted that officer and said, "Lieutenant? Would you like to explain this -- this mess?". Brody, practically unrecognizable beneath the sticky layer of drying liquid and food, stepped forward. "We . . . we, umm, were trying to cook dinner for Tim and Loni -- to make up for yesterday." He glanced around, " . . . But things got a little out of hand." Jonathan looked around again as well. "That's an understatement Mr. Brody. Do any of you think you'll be seeing the light of day anytime soon?" They shook their heads. "Who authorized your use of the captain's galley anyway?" "Henderson said she'd cleared it with Capt. Bridger before going upworld with Tim," Miguel responded. "I'll have to take your word for it Ortiz, but I'll discuss it with the captain later. In the meantime gentlemen, start cleaning this mess up!" he ordered and then coughed. The smell of smoke seemed to be getting stronger. He turned to find smoke billowing from the over as Tony shouted, "My cake! We forgot about my cake!" *BREEP BREEP BREEP BREEP* -- the alarm began to shriek again as Jonathan thought, There goes my quiet evening . . . * * * * To be continued in Part 5 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Deanna Toxopeus | !!!!!SAVE SEAQUEST!!!!! Carleton University | Bring back Roy Scheider and Darwin dtoxopeu@ccs.carleton.ca | email: maryflr@best.com for details ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- "If you kiss a toad, you don't get a prince - you get slime in your mouth and bad memories." Dr. Laura Schlessinger Ten Stupid Things Women Do To Mess Up Their Lives ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Tim's Birthday - Part 5 The burnt cake filled the kitchen with smoke, but thankfully did not start another fire though the rather wretched group retired to the hallway to clear their lungs anyway. Ortiz, usually so calm and collected even in crisis situations, now paced the corridor anxiously. "She's going to kill us," he kept saying, "she's going to kill us and Tim will never speak to us again -- in *any* language." "Calm down Ortiz," Ford appealed. "You're making me dizzy." "I can't Commander," the sensor chief protested, "They're going to be here in an hour and a half for dinner and everything is ruined. We don't have a chance." "We could always try that corndog and macaroni thing you suggested earlier," Brody offered in an attempt to lighten the situation. Ortiz stopped pacing long enough to say, "Not funny Jim. Tim's my best friend and we monumentally screwed up his birthday. This had to be perfect." He sank dejectedly to the floor while the others stared morosely at him. They knew he was right, but no solution leapt to mind. After another moment of silence Ford asked, "Did you ruin everything?" Piccolo nodded and said, "I'm very sure nothing was spared in there." But Ford was persistent. "Come on. Let's see if there's anything salvageable," he replied and led the way back into the galley. He opened the refrigerator -- there were a few chicken breasts left. He then moved to the counter and found the loaf of french bread still intact, along with several potatoes. "There's not too much left," he remarked thoughtfully as a plan formulated itself in his head, "But I think we can manage . . ." "Commander?" Brody asked, "With all due respect -- what are you talking about?" "I'm talking about saving your butts." "Your going to help us?" Miguel said in surprise. "You know how to cook?" Brody asked, equally surprised. Ford nodded his head. "Yes, I'm going to help you. Tim's a friend of mine too if you'll recall. And yes I know how to cook. I've taken a couple of courses at the Cordon Bleu." Piccolo's eyes nearly bugged out on hearing this last remark. "The Cordon Bleu? I ain't makin' anything involvin' snails Commander!" "You won't have to Piccolo. First, clean this place up a little. We need some room to work. Dagwood and I are going to the main galley to get every- thing else we need. We'll be back in fifteen minutes." Fifteen minutes later they returned to a slightly cleaner kitchen with the necessary supplies and Commander Ford divvied up the tasks. Piccolo and Lucas resumed work on the second cake, while Ortiz began shredding potatoes. Lieutenant Brody chopped vege tables for a simple green salad, the Feta cheese having been a casualty of the food fight. Ford started on a new chicken dish. Dagwood just helped wherever needed. Half an hour later, they were making good progress on the meal. "Where are we serving this thing?" Ford asked as he placed a chicken breast in the pan. "Loni said the wardroom," Miguel answered him. "We're supposed to be decorating it to look like a bistro." Lucas looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. "Guys, its 18:30 now. We're not going to have time to decorate." A round of curses greeted that piece of news. "What we need is someone to do the decorating for us," Tony said. There was silence for a few seconds, and then Brody dropped his knife. "I know!" He pulled a PAL unit out of his pocket. "Patch me through to Lieutenant DuMont. She should be in her quarters." There was a pause as the relay was made. "Lieutenant DuMont here." "Yeah DuMont, its Brody. I need a favour." He explained the situation. "This is going to cost you Lieutenant. It's my day off." Brody looked at Ford and then said, "Don't worry DuMont, Commander Ford will take you out to dinner." Ford hissed, "Brody!" He'd made the mistake of mentioning he was interested in the paramedic a few nights ago after one too many drinks. "Sssh," Jim covered the mike of the PAL unit. "Trust me on this one." "Anywhere I want?" DuMont asked. "Anywhere." "It's a deal." "Great! Remember DuMont I want it romantic, very romantic. And can you tell Cmdr. Pittman I might be late." DuMont laughed, and said she would. "There," Brody slipped the PAL back into his pocket, "all taken care of." Ford threw a dishtowel at the tactical officer. * * * * At 1930 hours the hatch in docking bay 2 locked with the launch's airlock and a moment later Tim and Loni stepped onto the seaQuest. Their day ashore had been relaxing, but expensive as each carried a bag of books destined for the already stuffed shelves in O'Neill's quarters. "I don't know where I'm going to put these things," he was saying when Dagwood stepped forward. "Can I take your bags?" he offered with an oddly formal bow. Tim gladly handed over the heavy bag, saying, "Thanks Dagwood," though the GELF's behaviour struck him as a little unusual. Just then the doors to the docking bay slid open to admit Capt. Bridger. "Good evening sir," Tim said, coming down the step to greet him, "You going ashore for the night?" Bridger smiled at his communications officer. "No Lieutenant. I'm here to see you. Follow me please. You too Henderson," he replied and then stepped back into the corridor. Tim looked to Loni who shrugged her shoulders appearing only slightly less confused by the captain's request. He held his hand out to her, and then they joined Bridger in the hall. Tim grew increasingly apprehensive as they followed him silently along, and by the time they came to a halt outside his wardroom he was sure something was wrong. Bridger flashed them a quick grin before opening the door and gesturing them to enter. Loni stepped past the captain and then pulled Tim into the still-darkened room. The door snapped shut behind him, engulfing them in blackness. "Umm, what's going on?" Tim asked anxiously. * * * * To be continued in Part 6 (the last part we promise) ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Deanna Toxopeus | !!!!!SAVE SEAQUEST!!!!! Carleton University | Bring back Roy Scheider and Darwin dtoxopeu@ccs.carleton.ca | email: maryflr@best.com for details ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- "If you kiss a toad, you don't get a prince - you get slime in your mouth and bad memories." Dr. Laura Schlessinger Ten Stupid Things Women Do To Mess Up Their Lives ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Tim's Birthday - Part 6 At the sound of his voice the lights came up and Loni gasped in delight at the scene set before them as Tim's mouth fell open in astonishment. The captain's wardroom was almost unrecognizable. Someone had raided the botany lab to fill the room with ferns and various hanging plants. They had also managed to move the large centre table to the side and covered it with a bright tablecloth and several candles. Baskets filled with cut flowers and an assortment of pretty fruits and vegetables had been arranged on top. A curtain had been rigged across a portion of the room closest to the kitchen to give the wardroom a more intimate atmosphere. Colourful Christmas lights hung from the ceiling lending the room a romantically cheerful ambiance. Tony Piccolo stood beside the door, behind what looked like a music stand draped with a black cloth. Someone had drawn a mustache on his upper lip, and his bangs were lying flat against his forehead, in the shape of two small curls. "Monsieur, Mademoiselle," he said with a cheesy french accent. "Welcome to Chez Quest. Do you have a reservation?" Tim looked at Loni, who simply smiled and said, "O'Neill, party of two." Tony ran his finger down the page of the book on the stand. "A yes, here it is. Follow me please." He brought them to the single small table in the middle of the room. The table was covered by a red-and-white checked tablecloth. Probably borrowed from a picnic basket, Tim thought. It was set with the captain's china, more candles and a vase of red roses. Tony pulled out Loni's chair and then repeated the process for Tim. He then turned and clapped his hands. "Garcon! It was Miguel who answered his summons, although it took a minute for Tim to recognize his best friend. He was wearing a stylized waiter's uniform -- white shirt, black pant, white apron about his waist, and white towel draped over his forearm. Somehow, he had managed to slick his mane of curls back into a short pony tale. "Hello, my name is Miguel, and I will be your waiter for the evening. Can I interest either of you in a drink?" "Some wine please," Loni asked. There was soft music floating through the room. Tim turned and saw crammed just under Darwin's access tube a group of musicians. He recognised Kate blowing softly into her flute, Jules strumming a lute, and the clarinetist was Lieutenant Spyridon. It took him a few minutes to recognize the fiddler, but as Lieutenant DuMont rarely wore her long black hair loose, this was not surprising. They were all accompanying the visiting lieutenant commander Lieutenant Brody was currently involved with, Terisa Pittman, who was singing a soft medieval love ballad. Above them in the tube was Darwin. As he watched the dolphin's mouth move, Tim wondered if he was singing along. Tim looked back at Loni. "I feel underdressed," he said looking at his jeans. Loni laughed and told him he looked fine as Miguel returned with the wine. Despite the earlier disaster in the galley Tim's belated birthday dinner resulted in an unparalled success. Everything was delicious and Tim and Loni joked that Chez Quest was now their favourite restaurant, edging out even the Cove, the site of Loni's memorable birthday party. As the courses were cleared away by the "busboys," Lucas and Jim, Tim caught the occasional glance of Commander Ford, bedecked in a white chef's hat working furiously in the kitchen. When it was time to serve the birthday cake, frosted by Sheila while the others had served dinner, Dr. Smith and Dagwood joined the rest of the assembled crew to wish O'Neill a happy birthday. Tim basked in the glow of contentment as his friends regaled him with "Happy Birthday," amazed that a birthday that had started so badly could end so happily. He blew out the candles on his cake wishing that all his birthdays could end this well and then stood to hug Miguel, who was standing beside his chair. "I don't know how to thank you all for this. You really didn't have to go to so much trouble," he told them all. Miguel caught Loni's eye as Tim spoke. Both smiled and Miguel said, "Yes we did." Tim looked at him oddly at then at the others who were grinning. "No, you didn't," he repeated, not understanding the joke. Piccolo came forward and playfully smacked his arm. "*Yes* we did lieutenant -- otherwise your girlfriend over there was going to have our hides!" Tim turned to look at his devious girlfriend grinning at him from across the table. "You set this up Loni?" he asked. She stood and took his hand, moving to his side. "Yes I did. You deserved it Tim. You gave me the best birthday of my life, it was only fair that you have at least a decent one after that." Tim speechlessly gazed at Loni, overwhelmed by the feelings her words aroused in him. Miguel decided this might be the best time to wind things down. He nodded at Lucas who came forward to cut two pieces of cake for the couple. Brody gave the wrap- it up signal to Lieutenant DuMont, who nodded that she understood. The musicians began to quietly pack up and drift away until only the fiddler and singer remained. The Captain offered his arm to Wendy and the two withdrew. Tony herded Dagwood into the kitchen. The two musicians performed one last duet, and then quietly left, the lieutenant commander taking Brody with her. Satisfied that there was no one else left in the "bistro," Miguel turned back to Tim and Loni still standing beside the table, their arms twined around one another, preparatory to a long kiss, and said with a wink, "you two behave yourselves in here!" Tim turned back to Loni after watching his best friend disappear into the corridor. "Do you have any idea how much I love you Loni Henderson?" He was surprised and a little concerned when tears suddenly weld up in her eyes. "Did I say something wrong?". Loni smiled and sniffed as a tear slipped down her cheek. She shook her head. "No," sniff, "You said it perfectly. I'm crying because I'm happy." "So this is a good thing?" he asked to be certain. "This is the *best* thing" she confided softly, "Because I love you too." Tim absorbed her words slowly, a little in shock by the enormity of it all, and repeated, "You love me?" She lifted her head slightly to rub the tip of her nose against his and replied her eyes softly focused on his, "I adore you Tim O'Neill." Tim considered this statement and decided that no birthday would ever be able to compare with this one. "So does this mean it would be okay if I kissed you now?" Loni decided words were not an appropriate answer to this question and instead wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his mouth to hers. They kissed for a long time and finally parted, both flushed and out of breath. Loni looked down at the cake, still sitting uneaten on the table. "I guess we should eat some cake," she said and cut a slice. She then lifted the piece to Tim's mouth with the fork. "Happy Birthday Tim," she said and popped the piece into his mouth. She watched Tim chew for a moment and was surprised to see a very strange expression cross his face. "Are you all right," she asked. "Are you choking?" Tim forced himself to swallow the bite of cake before answering," The cake tastes a little strange." Loni immediately lifted a piece to her mouth and chewed thoughtfully for a minute. She managed to swallow her mouthful, before telling him through her laughter, "It's salt! Someone put salt into the cake instead of sugar!", causing Tim to burst into laughter as well. They were laughing so hard they never heard Captain. Bridger return to the galley next door a few minutes later. He had escorted Wendy to her quarters and then headed back to his quarters to curl up with a good book. But as he dropped into his chair his stomach had growled reminding him that he had forgotten to eat dinner after catching that movie while ashore. I'll just go back to the galley and see what they've left, he told himself as he headed for the kitchen. The boys should be done in there by now. He heard the laughter from the wardroom as he passed the door and then stepped into the galley without turning on the lights. He took a step forward and felt something squishy beneath his foot, and reached for the lights. The biggest mess he had ever seen greeted his eyes, and he lifted his foot to find he had trod upon a pulverized tomato. He pulled his PAL unit out of his pocket and switched it on. At the top of his lungs he shouted, "FORD! BRODY! ORTIZ! PICCOLO! LUCAS! Get back here!" . . . * * * * The End. Hope you liked it! Comments, criticisms and cudoes can be sent to me at the address in the sig, or to Jess at IZZYX1M@MVS.OAC.UCLA.EDU (hopefully I haven't messed the address up!) P.S. Please Betsy can we have Brody's next? (This is so much fun!!!!) ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Deanna Toxopeus | !!!!!SAVE SEAQUEST!!!!! Carleton University | Bring back Roy Scheider and Darwin dtoxopeu@ccs.carleton.ca | email: maryflr@best.com for details ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- "If you kiss a toad, you don't get a prince - you get slime in your mouth and bad memories." Dr. Laura Schlessinger Ten Stupid Things Women Do To Mess Up Their Lives ----------------------------------------------------------------------------