Title: My Neighbors, the Janeways
Author: SaRa
Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I don't own it! :::kisses Paramount's rings which they unfortunately keep in their back pocket...:::
Author's note: This is a response to a challenge I issued in JetCJrSr. It's set in the summer of 2001 and told from my point of view. Everyone else has themselves knowing who Janeway and Chakotay truly are, but I'm being different and saying this is set in a universe where Star Trek never existed.



I love hot summer days like this when it's ninety degrees and the sun has warmed the pool water to nearly eighty. On days like today, I can relax in the pool by floating on an air mattress and listening to the sounds of the city or I can sink under the water and look up into the trees, imagining myself in the country.

Best of all are the days when Tara comes down and we stop by the Janeways' house, like we're planning on doing today.

"It's three o'clock, girls!" my mom calls from the porch where she's playing with CJ and Grey Guy. They're two of the feral cats that now live in our yard.

"'Kay!" I call back, and then I turn to Tara. "C'mon. I told Kathryn and Chakotay we'd drop by at three thirty. Let's change and grab something to eat before we go over."

Tara looks at me as if I've flipped my lid. "Whenever we go over there, they give us something to eat and you still want to have a snack first?"

Kathryn and Chakotay love us and spoil us beyond belief. They've always wanted to have kids, but couldn't for some reason or another, so we're the next best thing. It used to be Mary, Ryan, Tara, and me, but that was way back in '96 -- or was it '97? -- when they first moved in next door. A few years ago, Ryan moved away and Mary, well, she's drifting away. Ryan stops by sometimes and we visit, which I know Kathryn and Chakotay enjoy. Kathryn once told me if I drift away, she'll kick my skinny butt. I have a feeling she told Tara the same thing.

Everyone loves the Janeways and they love everyone. That's Chakotay's doing, I just know it. He's that kind of person and it's rubbed off on his wife in the years they've known each other.

"Of course I want a snack first!" I say as we walk barefoot up the hot sidewalks.

Twenty minutes later, we're finishing off our sodas and she's slipping her sandals on. I have no problem with going barefoot, even out in the alley with the nails, painfully hot blacktop, and broken glass. Walking barefoot out front is typical for me, even if it's not too intelligent.

After I make my necessary remark about Tara's blue plastic sandals stinking to high heaven, I ask, "Want to take CJ with us?"

Tara nods, her mouth full of Pepsi.

I call to my mom that we're leaving, grab the sleeping orange tabby from the wicker chair, and we hurry out the front gate and over to the green and white stucco house next door.

"Could you open the door?" I ask Tara, my hands busy with a dazed CJ.

"Sure," she replies, flinging open the screen door.

The familiar smell, a combination of strawberries, spice, coffee, and burnt food (Kathryn's latest attempt at cooking, undoubtedly.), greets us when we walk in.

"Yo, we're here!" I, one of south side's loudest, call.

"We're in the bedroom," Chakotay responds.

Tara and I grin at each other, communicating the same thought: they're the cutest couple in the whole city.

We walk down the hallway of the old-fashioned house that's decorated with modern furniture, pictures, and so on with a few Native American things thrown in here and there. Their house is something that would give Christopher Lowell, Mom's favorite interior decorator, a stroke. I like it because it looks and feels like a home. It reflects the people who live in it, just like it should.

Tara and I cheerfully bound into the room and flop down onto the huge bed with Kathryn and Chakotay.

It turns out that their room is the only one with a working air conditioner, so they've been in there all day, watching Godawful soap operas and talk shows.

Chakotay notices CJ and says, "You can set him down, you know. Kath and I don't mind if he wanders around."

Upon hearing this, CJ wiggles out of my arms and the little flea bag wanders over to their laundry basket. Naturally, the basket was filled with freshly cleaned clothes. I can't help but notice Chakotay's light blue "hug me" boxers are on the top of the pile.

"Damn," I say, while Tara says, "Figures."

Kathryn and Chakotay are really relaxed about things. They're also really open, though I imagine it took some work on both their parts. We can swear around them, tell dirty jokes, and discuss anything. Absolutely nothing is taboo at their house. They're adults we can talk to like they're close friends about our age.

"That's okay; he doesn't know better," Kathryn says, shrugging.

"Would you girls like to eat here tonight? We were thinking of ordering pizza for dinner," Chakotay invites.

Kathryn immediately jumps in with, "And we have some ice cream in the freezer."

Tara and I look at each other and I say, "Sounds cool. Let me call my mom and tell her."

Kathryn hands me the cordless phone that she keeps on her night stand and I tap my number in after Tara reminds me of what it is. When I hang up a few seconds later, I say, "It's fine with her!"

At seven thirty, the four of us (and CJ) walk back to my house. Tara's dad is already there and he, my mom, Kathryn, and Chakotay start talking about this and that. While they're talking, Tara and I slip into the living room to discuss the Janeways.

No matter how many times we talk about them, we always end our conversation the same way: by saying what a great relationship they have and how it would be wonderful to be involved in something half as good.

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