Part 1/7



   The arrests of Dr. Packard and General Thomas for the kidnapping

and attempted murder of Alison Brody several days earlier had forced a

delay in the seaQuest's scheduled research run to the Antarctic. The

sub remained docked off the Florida coast as a UEO investigations team

questioned and took statements from the crew, and though most found

the investigation intrusive and annoying, the delay also afforded them

some much needed downtime. But while his friends and crewmates busied

themselves with recuperating from the events of the past few days, Lt.

Jim Brody found himself in constant demand by the investigations team

as well as by a variety of UEO officials intent on apologizing for the

General's fall from grace.



   He had only escaped from their questions and unsympathetic gazes

three times since his mother's rescue from the Thomas family estate.

He had insisted on being with her when Wendy returned her to

cryo-sleep and the following day he had managed to slip a way to place

a yellow rose on her cryo-chamber. Now, after three days of endless

interviews and meetings, he was free to leave again.



   Overcome with relief, Jim rose from his seat and walked blindly

from the room.  Once outside, thought, he couldn't decide where to go

or what to do. What he *needed* was a good meal and a long nap, but

Jim wasn't ready to face his friends' well-intentioned concern or a

return to the everyday business of living -- not yet, not until he'd

had some time to grieve. Right now he needed silence and solitude. 

Without a thought he found himself walking off the base.  He did not

stop until he was as far away as his legs would carry him. 



   His roaming had brought him to a seaside park, deserted at dusk.

The laughing children and eagle-eyed parents had all gone home for

supper, family- time and then sleep. Jim dropped with a heavy sigh

onto a bench near the water, drinking in the warm, tangy scent of the

ocean while his mind began to drift, soothed by the sight of the

endless horizon line. He wondered if his mother dreamt in her frozen

sleep and what she would dream about if she did. Lately all Jim had

dreamt about was her -- when he could get to sleep at all -- fractured

images of that day at the river twenty-two years ago, her sudden,

fatal illness, his grandparent's quiet anguish . . . And then the

picture would shift to his recent birthday, followed by her

kidnapping. He would enter that huge house again and walk along its

deserted hallways until he found her lying still on that bed. He

touched her cheek, only to find it cold, almost icy and as a sob rose

to choke him, he knew he was to late -- she was gone again.



   Consciously Jim knew that his mother was only in a state of frozen

stasis. She wasn't dead and he would see and speak to her again. He

missed his grand- parents all the more for the thought that all he had

left of them were photos, trinkets and memories. He had sold the old

house where he had been raised after his grandfather's death four

years ago with the thought that the house was far too large for him to

live in alone and Uncle Charlie had no interest in coming back after 

having moved to the Republic of California to find hiself about a decade 

ago.  Besides, he was rarely home. Now, as he stared out at gulls 

circling a bouy, he found himself wondering if that had been the best 

thing after all.  Should he buy the house back?  That way when mom got 

better she'd have a place to live. Money wasn't really an issue -- he'd 

inherited the bulk of his grandparents' estate, though they had certainly 

provided for his uncle as well, and he could always sell the Trident . . .



* * * *



   "Anybody seen Brody?" Piccolo asked, sticking his head into the

officer's lounge where Cmdr. Ford sat playing a game of chess with

Tim. 



   Jonathan looked up from the board, considering the question. He

couldn't remember having seen Brody since breakfast. "No -- have you

Tim?" O'Neill shook his head at the question and Piccolo looked

perplexed. "Why are you looking for him?" he asked.



   "He said he'd be back in time to play poker with me and Ortiz. We

were gonna teach Dag how to play, but the lieutenant ain't anywhere on

the boat!" 



   Jonathan glanced up at the chronometer on the wall -- 21:00 -- but

Brody was usually back on the boat by 19:00. He'd mentioned in passing

that morning how badly all the meetings were wearing him out and that

he'd been going to bed early. The dark circles under his eyes had

belied that statement -- it was obvious that Brody wasn't actually

getting much sleep. He looked back to Tony. "You checked his cabin

already?" Tony nodded. "All right. Tim, contact the base and see if

Jim's been delayed somewhere -- if they don't know where he is we'll

go upworld and see if we can find him."



   A look of mild alarm crossed Tony's face. "Commander -- it's just a

poker game! No big deal. Lieutenant Brody will get back when he gets

back." 



   "Tony, you wouldn't have come looking for him if you weren't a

little worried about him," Jonathan observed. Tony began to shake his

head in denial but the commander cut him off, "We're all worried about

him. No one's ever seen him this depressed before -- we just want to

be sure he's safe."



   Tim returned to the table a moment later having contacted the base

from the lounge's comm panel. He shook his head at their inquiring

gazes. "Brody was dismissed from his last interview at 18:30 and no

one's seen him since."



   Jonathan mulled the situation over briefly. "We'll give him until

the last shuttle run at 22:00. I'll let Captain Bridger know what's

going on in the meantime and we'll round up some people to help look

for Brody." 



   An hour later Jim had still not returned to the seaQuest and eight

of his friends disembarked from a shuttle to begin their search for

him. Ford was dividing them up into teams of two in order to cover the

most ground. "Ortiz, O'Neill take the south-east quad, DuMont and

Dagwood the south-west. Henderson, you and Piccolo have the base in

the north-west and Lucas and I will take the north-east. Check in

periodically on your PAL units and if you find him alert the other

teams. Capt. Bridger mentioned seeing Jim leave the base from the

southern gate but he could be anywhere by now. You have his picture so

don't hesitate to ask people if they've seen him." Jonathan paused,

and then reminded them, "I know that we'd all prefer he come home when

we find him, but if he doesn't want to come with us we can't force him

to. He's not AWOL, at least not for another two days. We just want to

be sure he's all right. Anyone questions?"



   Everyone shook their heads.  Pair by pair, they headed for the

jeeps Lt. DuMont had arranged for them. An hour later O'Neill and

Ortiz had worked their way through a commercial district on the beach

in the north-east quadrant with no luck and now found themselves

driving through a predominantly residential area on the coastline. "I

think we should head back and start checking out restaurants," Tim

suggested, rubbing at his tired eyes.



   Miguel shook his head. "No -- let's finish dragging the coast, then

we'll head back."



   Tim acquiesced as Miguel was doing the driving and returned to

peering ahead of them through the binoculars from the glove

compartment. Half a minute later he dropped them abruptly and shouted,

"Stop the car!"



   Miguel hit the brakes. "What? Do you see him?"



   Tim didn't answer but pointed through the screen of trees

separating the road from a pleasant-looking park, deserted but for one

person seated on a bench. Miguel squinted into the distance unable to

identify the individual. He hopped from the car, followed by Tim, and

together they made their way through the trees.



   Jim blinked in surprise when the two rounded his bench from

opposite sides. Miguel dropped onto the bench beside him before Brody

could say a word and patted his shoulder with relief. "Geez Brody --

you had us worried! Next time you decide to misplace yourself let us

know first!"



   "Misplace myself?"



   Tim looked at him curiously, an idea suddenly occurring to him.

"You have no idea what time it is, do you Jim?"



   Jim shrugged. "I hadn't thought about it. I was just glad to get

away from those vultures. It's like 21:00 though, right?"



   Tim and Miguel shared a glance of raised eyebrows and getting no

answer Jim looked at his watch. "23:00? Oh god!" he exclaimed

dismayed, and leapt from the bench. "I promised you guys a game of

poker tonight! Oh god -- I'm sorry. I totally lost track of time."



   "You can say that again," Tim agreed with a chuckle.



   Miguel nodded and told him, "We've been out looking for you for the

last hour -- which reminds me -- we'd better let the others know we

found you," he said, reaching for his PAL.



   Brody looked from Ortiz to O'Neill. "Others? There are more people

out there looking for me?"



   Tim nodded this time, amused by Brody's apparent surprise. "Relax

Jim. Just Ford, Lucas, Loni, Dag, DuMont and Piccolo -- Tony's

actually the one who sounded the alert."



   Miguel shut off the PAL and stuck it back on its clip as Jim

absorbed this information. "Everyone's heading back to the launch.

Cmdr. Ford wants to know if you're joining us?"



   If anything Jim was looking more and more embarrassed as he thought about his friends wandering through the city looking for him while he sat in the park. He agreed to return with them, but asked, as they climbed into the jeep, "Can we stop somewhere? 





I'm starved."



* * * *  



To be continued in Part 2





------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Deanna Toxopeus          | A *very* angry |       !!!!!SAVE SEAQUEST!!!!!

Carleton University      |    seaQuest    | Bring back Roy Scheider and Darwin

dtoxopeu@ccs.carleton.ca |      fan       |email: maryflr@best.com for details

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

      There are people who can talk sensibly about a controversial issue;

                        they're called humorists.

                            Cullen Hightower

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part 2/7



   The shuttle trip back to seaQuest was a quiet one. Jim had

apologized profusely when he and Miguel and Tim had reached the dock,

but on taking his seat in the shuttle he had withdrawn again, staring

fixedly out the porthole. But despite his continued s ilence, his

friends noticed that he at least seemed more relaxed -- his woeful

expression had vanished and he was no longer hunching his shoulders

forward. Several times people tried to coax him into conversation, but

his answers were monosyllabic and one by one they gave up. Upon

reaching the seaQuest, Piccolo was intent on getting a poker game

going despite the lateness of the hour. The others were enthusiastic,

but Jim excused himself with a smile and a quick shake of his head and

headed for his cabin. 



   Brody was in fact feeling a little better and was entirely

flattered that his friends, his family really, had come looking for

him, but while he appreciated their concern, the craving for solitude

remained upon him. Once back in his cabin, Jim immediately changed out

of his uniform into a T-shirt and sweat pants, brushed his teeth and

washed his face. His body wanted to crawl into bed and pull the covers

over his ears, but his mind refused to let him rest. Without really

knowing why, he found himself dragging his footlocker into the middle

of the cabin and dropping to the floor in front of it. He threw back

the lid, and began removing layers of odds and ends he had collected

throughout his UEO years until he reached a large box sitting on the

bottom. Sitting back, he contemplated its top for a moment and then

reached in and lifted the box out. He slowly opened it as if expecting

to find everything turned to dust, but everything was exactly as he

remembered it.



   The box contained almost his entire childhood starting with the

tired-looking stuffed elephant he had had since his mother's death.

Jim grinned sentimentally on seeing his old friend and set him on the

floor beside him. Basketball, baseball and football cards remained

encased in their own plastic containers beside a jar filled with

marbles that his grandfather had given him. His first compass, a

signed baseball, a model airplane missing part of a wing, and a bag of

action figures joined the other items on the floor. He had reached the

lowest layers of items now and found a stack of old comic books his 

Uncle Charlie had given him, and below them a stack of old books that his 

mother and then his grandparents had read to him -- Curious George, Max 

and the Wild Things, The Stinky Cheeseman. He became absorbed in 

re-reading the hilarious adventures of the Stinky Cheeseman and didn't 

notice the single volume remaining in the box until he was about to lay 

the book back on top of it.



   He set The Stinky Cheeseman aside once again and drew out the small

book bound in green leather and edged with gold. Opening the cover he

instantly recognized his grandmother's handwriting. He had found one

of her old journals, the others were packed in boxes stored back in

Delaware. He checked the first dated entry -- April 16, 1995 -- and

then the last -- March 3, 2000, and realized that the journal covered

five of her most difficult years. 



   He wondered which of his grandparents had snuck the book into his

box for his journey to the academy eight years ago as he gently laid

it beside him and began re-packing the box. He decided to put the

footlocker away in the morning and tossed the elephant onto the bunk

as he picked up the journal and climbed into bed. Propping a pillow up

behind him, Jim began to read and was soon immersed in his

grandmother's words. He could almost swear he heard her speaking to

him though she had died almost seven years ago. 



   He read first of her hopes and fears at Alison's decision to become

a single mother at age 21, then of his own successful conception

several weeks later. He flipped ahead to 1996 and the day of his birth

and noticed the tell-tale splotches of Gran's tears as she had wept

over the entry. His first steps and words, silly things he'd done and

said -- all were recorded in Gran's neat hand. And then he reached the

entries for October 1999 and her tears once again marked the pages

recording her only daughter, Alison's, sudden illness, coma and death.

Jim's eyes smarted -- he's been holding back the urge to cry for days

-- but at the sight of his grandmother's unfaltering hand- writing and

her profound grief the pages finally blurred . . . 



* * * *



   At about the same time, Piccolo came to the sad conclusion that the

poker game was not going well.  Lt. DuMont and Lucas had said good

night after Brody's departure from the launch bay, leaving him to play

with Dagwood who still had no idea how to play, Loni, who seemed

distracted and kept folding, Tim, Miguel and worst of all, Cmdr. Ford,

who kept winning! The guy has a great poker face, Piccolo had to admit

to himself, and losing to the commander was at least better than

losing to Dr. Smith and her psychic powers. 



   Wendy had joined what was left of the search party in the lounge

about half an hour after their return. She had wanted to see how Jim

was doing, but stayed to play on discovering that the lieutenant had

gone off to bed. She was now seated between Loni and Tim, her brow

furrowed in concentration. After a moment of thought she sat up,

discarded two cards and said, "Two please," to Ortiz, the dealer, then

picked up the conversation where she had left off. "So he'd been

sitting in that park for almost four hours without moving?" 



   Tim shrugged. "That's what he told us on the way to the launch. He

said he'd walked for awhile, found the park, sat down and the next

thing he knew there we were."



   "He wasn't exactly talkative doc," Miguel added as he sent a card

skidding across the table to Tony.



   "And on the shuttle?" Wendy continued.



   "Pretty much the same," Loni answered, "I don't think he said more

than 10 words the whole time, but he seemed less depressed, just

really tired."



   Jonathan nodded in agreement as he took another card from the

dealer. "True, but he still didn't want to hang out with us. He didn't

want to play poker.  He said no to DuMont's offer of old movies

tomorrow night.  He also didn't want to go ashore with Loni or Miguel

tomorrow."



   Wendy sat considering their descriptions of Brody's anti-social

behavior, and then said, "Isolating himself from his friends when he's

usually so gregarious is troublesome, but now that the investigations

team has left and his other meetings are over he should snap out of it

soon. We just need to find a way to distract him."



   "But Wendy," Jonathan broke in, "It is quite clear that Jim doesn't

*want* to be distracted." 



   She smiled confidently at the XO. "We'll think of something," she

said. "We just need to remind him how important he is to us, and that

we really care about how he's doing. What are his favourite memories

of serving on seaQuest?"



   "Bunking with Cmdr. Ford?" Piccolo offered with a straight face. 



   Everyone laughed and Jonathan threw a pretzel at the seaman in mock

anger. Piccolo was about to offer another ridiculous suggestion when

Loni began bouncing up and down in her seat. "I've got it!" she

exclaimed. "Like Spyridon's birthday party! He didn't stop talking

about it for days and he's got that picture of all of us on the steps

. . ."



   Tim nodded, remembering that night. "You're right Loni. He said it

was one of the best parties ever. He really liked the Cove."



   Miguel laughed. "Well, you gotta admit the lieutenant gets pretty

enthused about any party."



   "We're having another party?" Dagwood asked, tossing his card into

the air in his excitement. "Can I help? I want to blow up the

balloons!"



   Miguel patted the big GELF on the shoulder. "Sure thing Dag. We'll

have lots of balloons, plenty of music . . ."



   "And plenty of food!" Tony concluded.



   Jonathan grinned at their growing enthusiasm and laid his cards

down. "Looks like we're having another party!" he pronounced and at

that poker was forgotten as they set about planning Jim's belated

birthday party. The date was set for two days hence at the Cove. Loni

and Miguel would make the arrangements tomorrow while upworld and

Piccolo set about concocting a menu for them to take along. Balloons

would be secured for the festivities and Ortiz would make sure there

would be lots of loud music. All they had to do was make sure everyone

got there and decide on the perfect gift for the birthday boy.



* * * *



   Oblivious to the hubbub he had stirred up in the lounge, Jim

remained in bed going through his grandmother's journal. His tears had

subsided a while ago leaving him drained but content and he continued

reading, re-living the weeks following his mother's death through his

grandmother's eyes. The holidays had been difficult that year, but Jim

was pleased to see Gran's numerous references to frequent visits from

friends and their touching generosity in the face of the Brody's

tragedy. They had meant a lot to her. He smiled then, realizing that

his friends had done a lot of the same things for him over the last

week or so. Jim returned to the entry open before him, December 31,

1999- January 1, 2000. Gran seemed to be in good spirits as she

described a small dinner party at the house . . .



       *I wish the Ericksons' could have joined us this evening --

Janet and Rob have been so good to us in the last months, but they had

to be at her niece's wedding tomorrow. We'll have them to dinner

another night. At least everyone else could be here tonight. It's

terrible to think that it took loosing Alison for us to realize how

much we are loved by these people -- and this little supper can never

truly express our gratitude, but Tom and I think it's the least we can

do. Jimmy's been an angel the last few days helping me in the kitchen

. . .*



   Jim couldn't remember the party that they had had that New Year's

to thank their dearest friends for their love and support after his

mother's death, but the idea struck him now. He replayed the last week

in his mind, recalling everything his friends had done for him. Tim

agreeing to do the DNA test, Lucas spotting that fake scientist, Loni

tending to his mother as Ortiz and Piccolo chased the guy through the

ship, Ortiz and Dagwood coming to see them at the hospital, Ford and

the away team risking their lives to help him rescue his mother. . . A

party could never express his gratitude to them, but it was a start.

Jim put the journal aside and reached for a pen and paper to start

planning.



* * *



To be continued in Part 3!!!



------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Deanna Toxopeus          | A *very* angry |       !!!!!SAVE SEAQUEST!!!!!

Carleton University      |    seaQuest    | Bring back Roy Scheider and Darwin

dtoxopeu@ccs.carleton.ca |      fan       |email: maryflr@best.com for details

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

      There are people who can talk sensibly about a controversial issue;

                        they're called humorists.

                            Cullen Hightower

------------------------------------------------------------------------------





Part 3/7



   Old man Fontaine really did a smart thing when he built here Jim

thought as he caught sight of the Cove. The rambling wooden building

stood alone on the spit that separated an isolated bay from the ocean.

Verandas ringed the structure, and diners could face either the secluded

cove or the ocean. It was a little far from the main part of the city,

but it was beautiful.



   He pulled his small powerboat into a parking place and tied it to

the wharf. From the number of similar crafts it was clear the place

was jumping. Brody took the steps to the main veranda two at a time.

He waved to few of the regulars he recognized and then headed for the

main door. He reached out to open the door and narrowly missed being

rendered unconscious as someone came through it at an unhealthy speed.



   "Lieutenant!" Miguel Ortiz exclaimed, reaching out to steady the other

man. "Sorry about that!"



   "Are you all right?" Lonnie Henderson asked.



   "Sure," he assured them. "You guys here for lunch?"



   Miguel and Lonnie exchanged a guilty look. "Nooo . . . uhmm . . .,"

Ortiz began, but Lonnie interjected hastily, "Yes! -- I wanted to get

off the boat so Miguel suggested we come here. Isn't that right Miguel."



   Miguel looked at Lonnie, then nodded his head earnestly. "Right!"



   There was silence, then Brody asked, "Do you guys mind if I join you

then?"



   "Actually Lieutenant," Miguel explained looking first at Lonnie then

at him, "We've already eaten."



   "And we should be going if we're going to get any shopping done." Lonnie

added as she slipped her arm through Miguel's and gave a slight tug. And

with a quick wave to Jim they hurried towards the pier.



   Well that was strange Brody thought to himself. They couldn't wait to

get out of here. Something was up, but what? Brody pushed open the door to

the restaurant. What were they hiding?



   "Hey Jimmy!" the hostess, Marg, said, greeting him with a dazzling smile.

"You're in luck -- I just had a booth  open up. Follow me." She pulled a

menu out of the stand and motioned for him to follow her down the stairs

into the main dining room. She seated him at a booth that faced the ocean.

"Wanda will be with you in a minute," she said and then hurried off to

greet more customers.



   Jimmy turned and looked out the window after watching her walk away.

It wasn't a great day he thought watching cloud banks form. Waves danced

under the grey sky. They'd have rain by the end of the day. Jimmy felt

despair creeping in again, and shook his head as if to ward if off. He

was *not* going to give into that again. He was here to thank his friends.



   "Good afternoon Lieutenant," Wanda said breaking into his thoughts. She

flashed him her biggest smile as she filled the glass in front of him with

water. "Can I get you something to drink?"



   Brody thought for a minute and then looked at the young woman. He knew

he was her favorite customer so he flashed her his best smile and asked,

"Is it too early for a beer?"



   She cocked her head to one side flirtatiously and placed a hand on her

hip. "That depends on what kind of mood you're in."



   He still had it. "I don't think I'm quite up to it," he said with a

laugh. "Better bring me a Coke."



   "All right Lieutenant -- but you do *not* know what you are missing."

She sauntered back to the bar, leaving Jimmy alone with his thoughts.



   He turned his eyes back to the ocean while his thoughts turned back to

the mystery of Miguel and Lonnie. There was more going on than a casual

lunch between friends. They'd behaved like two teenagers caught necking

in their parents' basements. Maybe, he thought, they were seeing each

other and didn't want anyone to know? Then why did Lonnie wrap her arm

around Miguel's? How was he supposed to interpret that? No, romance

wasn't the answer. Something was up but an illicit romance was not it.



   "Stop thinking so hard Brody," Wanda said placing his Coke on the table

beside him. "You're steaming up the windows! Now, have you decided what

you're going to eat?"



   "Chowder," he answered automatically.



   "Someone must've had a big breakfast." She scribbled the order down and

turned to go back to the kitchen.



   "Wanda!" Jimmy called after her.



   She stopped and looked at him over her shoulder. "That was a joke

Lieutenant."



   "I know that." Sometimes, he thought, there were disadvantages to being

a regular. "Can you ask the boss to come see me?"



   "Sure, as long as you promise not to complain about the service."



   "No, I just want to see about booking the restaurant for a party."



   "You too?" She sounded surprised. "First Henderson and Ortiz, now you.

They must pay you UEO guys better than I thought."



   Brody missed her parting comment about Henderson having been to the

restaurant with half the boat. They'd been here to book a party! he thought

to himself. It didn't take a genius to figure out who the party was for.

They were doing it again. His friends were trying to be there for him and

unfortunately beaten him to the punch. Well I'm not going to ruin their

fun, he told himself knowing how much they all loved throwing parties.

I'll play dumb. He laughed to himself -- It's what they'd expect from me

anyways. And besided I can still have some fun of my own.



   Brody looked up to see Old Man Fontaine wiping his hands on his apron

as he crossed over to the booth. "It's okay Joey -- I know about the

party." The Cove's owner's eyes bugged out of his head. "Don't worry. I

won't ruin it for them. But I want you to do something for me . . ."



   Sometimes there were advantages to being a regular.



* * * * 



To be continued in Part 4



------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Deanna Toxopeus          | A *very* angry |       !!!!!SAVE SEAQUEST!!!!!

Carleton University      |    seaQuest    | Bring back Roy Scheider and Darwin

dtoxopeu@ccs.carleton.ca |      fan       |email: maryflr@best.com for details

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

      There are people who can talk sensibly about a controversial issue;

                        they're called humorists.

                            Cullen Hightower

------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Part 4/7



	While Miguel and Lonnie had gone to book the Cove for Jim's

birthday party, various other members of the crew had remained aboard

the seaQuest working their designated shifts and making their own

preparations for the party.  Captain Bridger had been informed of

their plans that morning and had enthusiastically endorsed them.  He

had even offered to get Lieutenant Brody to the Cove at the designated

hour.  Tim was in charge of choosing and ordering a birthday cake,

while Tony supervised the general party menu and beverage selection. 

Lieutenant DuMont was taking care of transportation for all of their

guests, Miguel was overseeing the evening's entertainment, and

everyone else had been drafted to help with the decorations.



	Jonathan was mulling over gift ideas as he ate lunch with

Lucas and Dagwood.  Their brainstorming session had failed miserably,

with all of them agreeing to "think it over" a bit more.  His visit to

the storeroom with Dagwood earlier had a similar result.  He was

signing for the box of party supplies when Dagwood a stack of colorful

party hats, two almost empty bags of balloons, a spool of tape and a

roll of red streamers were all that were left inside the box. 

Definitely not enough to decorate the wardroom.  The beeping of his

PAL unit woke him from his trance.



	"Commander -- I need a day pass!" Piccolo's shrill, hyper voice

sqwauked at him from the receiver. "Everything's falling apart

upworld! They just told me they can't get enough beer and root beer

for the party!" 



	Great -- not another problem Jonathan thought as he spoke into

the PAL. "Calm down Piccolo -- where are you? We have another problem

to discuss." 



	"You're kidding me!" was Tony's response to this information

before saying, "I'm on my way to the mess."



	"Good you can join us." He and Lucas exchanged a "one of those

days" looks.



	When Tony arrived at the table, he pulled the fourth chair out

and dropped into it wearily.  "So what's your story," Jonathan asked.



	Tony shook his head in frustration. "I called the Cove about

half an hour ago to make sure they'd gotten the menu and they said

they can't get hold of enough of the beer and root beer I'd asked for

for the party -- so I made some calls. Turns out there's a distributor

of the root beer just outside town but they can't deliver, the

Fontaines' can't spare anyone to pick the stuff up, and I can't reach

Ortiz and Henderson.  Meanwhile I found a store willing to sell us all

the beer we can handle -- same story with them. To make a long story

short Commander -- I gotta go upworld and get the stuff myself! What's

*your* story -- sir?"



	"To make a long story short -- the decorations are gone. The

balloons and everything else we were gonna use have been totally

depleted." 



	"And," added Lucas woefully, "We still haven't thought of a

decent gift for the lieutenant."



	The four sat in silence as depression settled over them.  "Hey

guys," Tim's bright and chipper voice intruded upon their silence. 

"Mind if I join you?"



	A chorus of "No", "Sure", "Have a sear" answered him as they

shifted to make room.  Tim put his tray down and stole a chair from a

nearby table.  "Why all the long faces?" He asked as he sat down.



	Jonathan related the whole sordid story.  "So you see Tim," he

said as he finished the tale, "I will not be surprise if you had

problems getting a cake."



	The communications officer shook his head, "Not a one -- the

bakery will even deliver it to the Cove early tomorrow." He paused,

"But after the luck you guys seem to be having something's bound to go

wrong."



	Jonathan nodded his head in agreement -- they didn't seem to

be having much luck getting this party together. "Well looks like Dag

and I need to make an impromptu trip upworld Piccolo -- you'd better

tag along. I'll clear it with your shift commander and the Captain and

meet you in the launch bay in about an hour. All right?" He shoved his

chair back from the table and stood up. "I hope this cheers Jim up."



	"Yeah," Tim said.  "I can't imagine getting back a mother you

thought was dead, only to loose her again."



	As Tim's words sank in, Lucas sat straight up.  "That's it!"

His yelled caused every head in the mess to turn towards the table. 

"Commander," the young man said as he jumped up, "I'm going to need

the rest of the day off.  Can you get me a replacement?" He began to

head towards the door.



	Jonathan was a little surprised.  "Why Lucas?"



	"I know what we're giving Brody!", the young man yelled over

his shoulder as he left the mess.



* * * *



To be continued in Part 5



------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Deanna Toxopeus          | A *very* angry |       !!!!!SAVE SEAQUEST!!!!!

Carleton University      |    seaQuest    | Bring back Roy Scheider and Darwin

dtoxopeu@ccs.carleton.ca |      fan       |email: maryflr@best.com for details

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

      There are people who can talk sensibly about a controversial issue;

                        they're called humorists.

                            Cullen Hightower

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part 5



   Nearly 24 hours later Lucas stepped over the threshold of the Cove,

a brightly wrapped box held in his hands. His eyes were a little

bleary -- he'd stayed up nearly half the night and then gotten up

early in the morning to finish Jim's gift -- and so didn't register

Crys' wave of greeting. Instead he walked into the centre of the

room mesmerized by the transformation taking place in the Cove's main

dining room. Multi-colored Christmas lights and papers streamers

festooned the walls and exposed rafters of the room, while outside

balloons tied to the terrace railings bobbed merrily in an early

evening breeze. The Cove was beginning to look like centre stage for

Carnivale.



	About 20 people were still scattered about the room and

terrace diligently adding more decorations. From where he stood Lucas

could see Hoo, Courtney, Fallon hanging a large banner that read

"Happy Birthday Brody" across a doorway, while most of the others

including Commander Ford, Dr. Smith, Piccolo and Ortiz were still

busily blowing up more balloons on the two helium tanks in the middle

of the floor. Lonnie sat on the floor with Jules tying curled

ribbons to the balloons while Dagwood stood on a ladder taping more

balloons along the edge of the wall.



   The GELF looked like he was having the time of his life, but when

he noticed Lucas he waved excitedly for him to join him. "Is that

Brody's present?" he asked as he climbed down the ladder to better

inspect the wrapped box Lucas still held.



   Lucas put the gift in Dagwood's big hands. "Yep. It's all done. Now

we need a good hiding place for it."



   Dagwood grinned mischievously and hunched his shoulders. He winked

at Lucas. "I know a good place," he whispered.



   Lucas grinned back. "Okay Dagwood. You hide the present." 



   "Then you'll help put balloons up Lucas?" he asked as he started

walking towards the back of the restaurant.



   "Sure Dag," he called after him as he dropped to the floor beside

Lonnie and began helping tie the ribbons on.



* * * *



   Two hours later all of the decorations were up and the room was

filled with party guests -- all that was needed to complete the scene

were Capt. Bridger and the birthday boy himself. Tim approached

Commander Ford who stood chatting with Lieutenant DuMont and Meirs

at the beverage station.  "Get you something to drink O'Neill?" Ford

offered when he spotted him. "Piccolo's provided an assortment of

beers, root beer, and there's water."



   Tim lifted his bottle of root beer. "Already got one -- thanks

Commander. But," his face took on a slightly concerned look crossed,

"I was just noticing that Captain Bridger's late. That's not like

him." 



   Jonathan glanced at his watch. Tim was right. The captain and Brody

were nearly half an hour late and people were starting to get hungry.

"I'll see if I can reach him on my PAL," he said.



   A moment later they heard the captain's distinctive voice over the

unit. "Bridger here."



   "Captain -- it's Ford."



   "Ah, Jonathan. I was just going to contact you. We're running a

little late as you can see."



   Jonathan smiled at the captain's tone. "We were just noticing that

Captain. We've got a lot of hungry people here -- when can we expect

you and the guest of honor?"



   "I've still got to get Brody off the boat. He was working out and

lost track of time, but he's showering now . . . Give us about 40

minutes." 



   "I'll try and hold them off the pizza and sandwiches Captain,"

Jonathan replied. "Ford out." He turned back to the others, "Guess we

can tell Dagwood to come inside. He won't have to give the alert for a

little while." 



* * * *



   Dagwood was still outside watching and waiting for Captain Bridger

and Lt. Brody to arrive. He had refused to go inside forty-five

minutes earlier when Commander Ford had asked.  Screened by the bushes

lining the path to the Cove's entrance he peered out unblinkingly

until the car finally pulled up.  Dagwood glimpsed the familiar

profile of the guest of honor through the leaves. He swung around and

dashed into the restaurant taking the steps three at a time. "They're

here!" he announced and then hid behind a conveniently placed potted

palm as Wanda, the Cove's hostess hit the lights. Mr. Fontaine already

awaited his guests in the foyer. 



   As he stepped from the car Jim noticed the unusual quiet hanging

about the place and wondered if it was just his sense of expectation

or if the entire place was waiting for the party to begin. He was a

little worried he wouldn't look surprised enough a nd he didn't want

to disappoint his friends. He'd been practising his surprised look the

entire time he'd been stalling in the shower so that they would have

plenty of time to prepare for the party. Walking beside him Bridger

wondered if his second officer was harbouring suspicions behind his

quiet demeanor, then chided himself for worrying -- how could Brody

know what they'd been up to!



   Old Man Fontaine met them fondly at the door, shaking their hands

and telling them what a pleasure it was to see them again. "I have

your table ready downstairs Captain," he told them and then led them

down the steps. He stopped before reaching the bottom. "Oh!" he

exclaimed, "I forgot to check how the grilled salmon goes! Captain

please go ahead -- it's your regular table." He then bowed regally out

of their way and watched their entrance from the landing. Jim had to

suppress a smile at Fontaine's shenanigans -- he was obviously

enjoying his role in their little drama -- and then stopped when they

found the dining room in darkness. He noticed only that Capt. Bridger

had left his side before the lights went on in a blaze of brightness

and his ears rang with shouts of "SURPRISE!!!" as he blinked back

tears not from the sudden explosion of lights but from the scene that

met his eyes. 



   Nearly everyone was there! Everyone he knew and cared for on the

seaQuest filled the large room decked out in its party finery. Captain

Bridger had gone to join Jonathan, Wendy and Lucas and Jim saw Lonnie

blinking back tears of her own from where she stood with Tim and

Miguel.  DuMont grinned at him from a knot of his security team and

Tony and Dagwood were part of a large crowd hovering near a table

laden with fresh pizzas.  Irish, Hoo, Spyridon and Crys waved

at him from a table, their beer bottles held high. His favorite

waitresses at the Cove Shelia, Rufio and Marg were in the

crowd and he noticed most of the others as well. He was simply

overwhelmed by the sight of so much love focused entirely on him that

he needn't have worried about looking surprised. He may have known

about the party but he could never have prepared himself for the

emotions flooding through him as he took it all in.



   Wendy generally avoided reading people whenever she could, and

establishing psychic connections on land was almost impossible anyway,

but she couldn't help but read Jim right now, his confusion and joy

were almost tangible. She stepped from beside the captain and walked

to Jim's side, regarding him quietly for a moment before she kissed

his cheek and said, "Happy Birthday Jim."



   He looked at her still a little in shock and asked, "This is for

me?" just to be sure.



   Everyone laughed at his question and Wendy smiled. "It's all for

you," she told him as she took his hand and pulled him into the group.

Miguel pressed a cool bottle of beer into his hand as he was deluged

by birthday greetings and hugs and kisses, and in no time the shock

wore off and he began to feel like his old self, laughing and kidding

with his friends and basking in the warm emotions of the evening.



* * * * 



To be continued in Part 6





------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Deanna Toxopeus          | A *very* angry |       !!!!!SAVE SEAQUEST!!!!!

Carleton University      |    seaQuest    | Bring back Roy Scheider and Darwin

dtoxopeu@ccs.carleton.ca |      fan       |email: maryflr@best.com for details

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

      There are people who can talk sensibly about a controversial issue;

                        they're called humorists.

                            Cullen Hightower

------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Part 6



	Jimmy looked around The Cove.  The party was *finally* winding

down.  DuMont was herding the last of the rowdy seamen to the front

door.  She had volunteered to act as designated driver tonight. Just

like her, he thought, the mom of the security section.



	"DuMont," he called to her as she gave the final one a shove

towards the door.  "You coming back after this?"



	"In about an hour.  I'm driving the drunk shuttle."



	"Good."



	"Why?"



	He didn't want to give anything away.  "I just don't think the

party's over yet."



	She fixed him with a penetrating glare.  There was something

about her eyes that made it seem she could see right through you, he

thought.  Maybe it was their colour.  Maybe it was their intelligence. 

DuMont knew something was up, but was obviously not going to challenge

him on it.  "All right let me get these party machines back to the

boat, and I'll come back.  Even if it is only to pick you drunken sods

up." An airhorn began to sound from the wharf.  "Merde," she said

under her breath.  "I've got to go." She strode out the door.  "Hey

Irish!  I'm driving!  Get out of that seat!"

 

	He turned back to the large circular booth at the back where

his friends had gathered.  They had all agreed to stay, thinking that

he just wanted to thank them.  Little did they know.



	"Well, Lieutenant," Captain Bridger said as he approached the

booth, "we're all here like you asked."



	"Yeah," Tony added, waving his rum and coke in the air.  "Even

though Sue wanted to show me her tatoo!" Obviously Piccolo would be a

passenger on the DuMont shuttle before the end of the night. 



	"The dragon?" Tim asked.  Tony nodded.  "I've heard about that

one."



	"Both of you hush," Wendy scolded.  She then turned her soft,

dazzling smile on him.  "Go ahead Jim."



	She still made his heart skip a beat.  Pushing all thoughts

about her and the backseat of his car out of his mind, he took a deep

breath and launched into his prepared speech.  "I want to thank you

guys.  Not just for tonight, but for the last week as well. 

Although," he said looking around the brightly decorated room, "this

was impressive, what I will remember most is the way in which all of

you have helped me, and my mother, make it through this very tough

time.  I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you."



	"Jim," Jonathan said softly, "you don't have to repay us." Nods

greeted his statement.



	"I know that.  But you can't blame me for trying." Jim placed

his middle finger and thumb in his mouth and whistled loudly.  The

kitchen doors flew open as both Nancy and Jen appeared, pushing a cart

laden with brightly wrapped packages.  "These," he said as the two

women stopped beside him, "will never match what you guys did for me,

but I had to get you something.  Thanks ladies," he said to the

departing waitresses.  He took the topmost gift off the cart and

handed it to the captain.  "For you, sir."



	Captain Bridger ripped the red and blue paper as he opened up

his gift.  There was a sharp intake of breath as those closest to him

realized what it was.  "Coffee?  Is this real?" Jim nodded.  "Brody, I

can't take this."



	"Yes, you can sir."



	"Not at $250.00 a pound, I can't."



	"It's only half a pound, sir."  



	Bridger opened his mouth as if to say something further, then

looked at Brody.  "Thank you, Lieutenant," he said finally. 



	Brody smiled.  Now that the Captain had accepted his gift,

none of the others could decline.  He picked up two envelopes and

handed one to Dr. Smith.  He passed to the other one to the person

sitting on the other side of the captain; Lucas Wolenczak.  The former

picked a knife up off the table and used it as a letter opener.  The

latter nearly ripped the envelop in two.



	"Cool!" Lucas exclaimed.  "A kyteski rental from McCullogh's

marina.  Thanks, Brody."



	"I thought you needed to get out from behind the computer," Jim

offered by way of explanation.



	"This," Wendy read from the gift certificate in her hands,

"entitles the bearer to one free full body massage from Nibor's mobile

massage therapists.  Thank's Jim!"



	"Apparently the best in the business.  And they will come right

on to the seaQuest to do the work."



	"That's the kind of gift I want!" Tony cracked from the

opposite side of the booth.



	"Uhmmmmm, I don't think so Tony," Jim said.  "Nibor is a man. 

But I think you will like that." He pointed at a small box on the

lower section of the tray.  Tony reached over, picked the gift up and

placed it on the table.  With almost childish enthusiasm he ripped the

paper off the gift.  "Playboys!!!" Tony yelled when he say the twine

wrapped stack of magazines.  "Woooowweeeee!  Hey and they are classics

too.  From the 60s, 70s and 80s." He pulled the twine off the stack

and began to flip through them.



	"Look!  It's the Vanessa Williams issue!" There were groans

from around the table, and Brody knew he was getting the laser glare

from Lonnie and Wendy.



	Instead, he ignored them and handed a package to Jonathan

sitting beside Tony.  seaQuest's XO opened the gift in silence,

careful peeling off the tape so as not to rip the paper.  He examined

the gift for a few minutes before he spoke.  "The Complete - Wagner's

Ring Cycle."



	"It's got a separate vid and audio," Brody explained.  "It even

has a commentary done by a woman named Anna Russel.  They lady in the

store said it is hilarious."



	"It's brilliant," Ford agreed, with a bright smile.  "I've seen

it.  This is great!  Thanks Jim."



	Brody smiled in return, then handed a box over to Dagwood who

sat looking expectantly beside Tim.  "For you Dag."



	"Thank you, Brody," Dagwood said politely.  He opened the

package very carefully mimicking Commander Ford.  With an equal amount

of care he removed the oddly shaped object that was inside.  "What is

it?"



	"It's a lava lamp, " Jim explained.  Dagwood looked confused. 

"It's a light that has blobs of . . . " He was at a loss for words. 

How did one explain a lava lamp?



	Dagwood looked at the lamp again, and said "it's pretty," and

then began to watch floating colours.



	Brody pulled the next package off the pile and tossed it to

Miguel who was sandwiched between Lucas and Lonnie.  As the sensor

chief caught the package and began to open it, Brody handed a larger

gift to Tim, who was sitting between Lonnie and Dagwood.



	"Hey!" Miguel exclaimed from the corner "Guns N' Roses and

Meatloaf!" He looked at Jim.  "Thanks!  My originals went down with

seaQuest I."



	Tim started to unwrap his present in the same manor as

Commander Ford, but when he caught sight of a bright coloured book

cover his enthusiasm overcame him and he ripped the remaining paper

off.  "Gaughin!"



	"That's the one you like, right Tim?" O'Neill only nodded

already engrossed in the glossy pages of the coffee table book. 



	Brody laughed.  "Last, but certainly not least.  Lonnie," he

said as he picked up what was by far the largest package, "this one is

for you.  Be careful it's heavy." He handed it to her.  Lonnie ripped

the yellow paper to reveal a cardboard box.  With a slight giggle,

Lonnie opened the box.  Her squeal of glee carried across the

restaurant, as she dove into the box and pulled out a large leather

belt full of tools.



	"Oh, Lieutenant!  It's beautiful!" Her exclamation caused Tim

to look up from his book and exchange a confused glance with Miguel. 

Jim smiled softly to himself.  Both of these young men obviously did

not know what they were getting into.  "Thank you!"



	"I'm glad you like it!  I'm glad all of you liked your gifts. 

And thanks again for the party, it was per . . ."



	"Wait a minute, Lieutenant," Captain Bridger interjected. 

"We're not done with you yet.  Sit down." Not wanting to argue with

his commanding officer, Brody slipped into the booth beside Dr.

Smith.



* * * *



To be continued in Part 7





------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Deanna Toxopeus          | A *very* angry |       !!!!!SAVE SEAQUEST!!!!!

Carleton University      |    seaQuest    | Bring back Roy Scheider and Darwin

dtoxopeu@ccs.carleton.ca |      fan       |email: maryflr@best.com for details

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

      There are people who can talk sensibly about a controversial issue;

                        they're called humorists.

                            Cullen Hightower

------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Part 7



	"Now, Lucas?"  Dagwood asked.



	"Now, Dagwood."



	Dagwood reached behind the booth and pulled out the box he had

hidden earlier among the fake ferns, placing it gently in from of Jim.

Brody looked mutely at the gift for a moment than began tearing the

paper and ribbon away.  He lifted the lid away to reveal another box,

this one black, carefully cushioned in tissue. Wendy held the box

steady for him as he lifted the black cube out and set it down in

front of him. "Lucas said that you're supposed to push the red button

on the side," Dagwood said helpfully.



	Brody did as he was bidden, and the image materialized in the

centre of the table.  It was a head and shoulder picture a beautiful,

young dark haired woman.  His mother.



	"Mom?!?" His trembling voice was barely above the level of a

whisper.



	"Hi, Jimmy!"  She smiled warmly at him.



	"Lucas made it," Dagwood explained.  "He said that this way you

would always have your mom to talk to." Brody could barely see the

GELF sitting across the table, his eyes were so full of tears.  It

took him a minute before he could fully thank his friends.



* * * *



	"How did you find out about the party, Jim?" John asked later

as the two shared a beer at the bar.  Brody laughed and proceeded to

tell the tale of the interrupted date.  "So that's why you got the

gifts."



	Brody nodded as he took a sip of his beer.  "I still wanted to

thank you guys for every thing."



	"Hey Jim, that's what friends are all about." John took a swig

of his beer.  "Besides, I know you'll be there for me the next time I

move." Brody nearly choked on his beer.  "I noticed that there is one

gift left," Jonathan asked.  "Who's it for?"



	"DuMont," Brody explained.  "I'll give it to her when she gets

back."



	The two turned away from the bar to watch as the Captain

choose a slow love ballad from the Jukebox.  Bridger then asked Wendy

to dance. Lonnie, made even bolder then normal by the amount of

alcohol she had consumed, pulled Miguel out of his seat and on to the

dance floor.  Lucas had Shelia, one of The Cove's waitresses, as a

partner.  Donna, one of the other waitresses was trying to convince a

depressed looking Tim out on the dance floor.  I'm going to have to do

something about that, Brody thought to himself.  Tony was explaining

the importance of Jessica Hahn to Dagwood, who seemed to be much more

interested in the shifting blobs of the lava lamp. "Hey, Mr.

Fontaine," John waved at the white haired owner of the cove who had

just come out of the kitchen with a tray of clean glasses.  "We have a

bill to discuss."



	"No," Jim protested, "I'll get that."



	"No, Jim," John said, using his best Commander Ford voice. 

"It's your birthday . . ."



	"Gentlemen!" Mr. Fontaine said softly.  "Tonight is on the

house." He waved off the protests from both men.  "There was a cash

bar, and once the girls found out who the party was for, they

volunteered to work tonight for free.  So you see gentlemen all I have

to pay for is the food." He began to hang the glasses above the bar. 

"It is the least I could do for a regular.  Besides, I've had fun

watching all of you trying to out wit each other."



	Both men were about to argue the point further when the front

doors to The Cove opened.  "All right," Lieutenant DuMont yelled. 

"Last drunk shuttle leaves in five minutes.  If you miss it, you're

walking, as well as AWOL."



	"Get going," Mr. Fontaine chided.  "Before the young lady

arrests you."



* * * * 



The end :)





------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Deanna Toxopeus          | A *very* angry |       !!!!!SAVE SEAQUEST!!!!!

Carleton University      |    seaQuest    | Bring back Roy Scheider and Darwin

dtoxopeu@ccs.carleton.ca |      fan       |email: maryflr@best.com for details

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

      There are people who can talk sensibly about a controversial issue;

                        they're called humorists.

                            Cullen Hightower

------------------------------------------------------------------------------



This is an addendum to the seven part fanfiction birthday story that
appeared on the seaQuest mailing list in September of 95.  It could not be
sent to the main list as it contravened round robin regulations. Comments
should be sent to one (or both) of the authors Deanna Toxopeus
<dtoxopeu@ccs.carleton.ca> and Jessica Wong <jrabbit@ucla.edu>

Happy Disclaimer:  Only one of the people in this story is the property of
Amblin, Universal and NBC.  Although slavery was a bolished years ago,
please ensure that you return him to the appropriate person by bedtime. 
The other person belongs to Deanna, and what was done to her in this story
is copyright 1995 Jessica Wong and Deanna Toxopeus.  Steal her or this
story and you will have the unique pleasure of holding an intellectual
discussion about the future of the Ugandan economy with a panel of economists.

The Secret Lost Ending to Jimmy's Birthday
by Jessica Wong and Deanna Toxopeus

	"DuMont," Brody said quietly after the others had left the
shuttle.

	"Yes, Lieutenant," she answered while finishing off her final
check-off.

	"I have something for you." He pulled a small purple package
from his pocket and gave it to her.

	She looked at him questioningly, then open the package. 
Inside were several hair combs, some studded with fresh water pearls,
other with seashell.  "Sir," she asked, not understanding. 

	"You have beautiful hair, Gabrielle," he said, using her first
name.  "Maybe if you showed it off more, someone might take notice."
Even when she was off duty, she had worn it in the same severe
military braid.  Her eyes glinted a dangerous green as the
implications of that last statement sunk in.  "Don't worry, I haven't
told him.  But," he leaned forward, took her hand, and stared straight
into her eyes, "as far as I'm concerned, he's the only man on this
boat who is worthy of you." There was an awkward pause as two people
not used to showing emotion tried to think of something to say. 

	"Well," Brody said, finally breaking the silence, "I've got a
shift tomorrow so I'll say goodnight." He got up, "don't stay up to
late DuMont."

	"I won't sir.  Good night, sir."

	"Good night, DuMont."


                                          /        Deanna Toxopeus
Numquam obliviscaris tua tela fact      /      Carleton University
ab eis qui minima liciti sunt         /   dtoxopeu@ccs.carleton.ca
                                    /   St. John Ambulance Brigade
Never forget your weapon is       /  MA Student - Canadian History
made by the lowest bidder       / Questie, Sentinel, fanfic author
                              / http://www.carleton.ca/~dtoxopeu/