For Susan, with affection. Happy Birthday.

Thanks to Sharon and Sheryl for their comments, feedback and support.

*** *** ***

So different from last year.

As he walked into the Raven, he couldn't help but compare it to one year ago. The people. The decorations. The food and gifts and music... Last year there had been people everywhere. Music had filled the room. Schanke had eaten too much pizza.

And now, a year later, only silence.

Nick walked slowly across the empty dance floor, scuffing his feet a little, and rested his back against the bar when he finally reached it. Looking around the room, it was hard to imagine it full of noise and laughter. It looked almost like those cliche, deserted streets in old Westerns, with the tumbleweed rolling down the middle and dust blowing everywhere.

"Hello, Nicola."

He hadn't felt her approach, but there she stood. Janette, in the middle of the dance floor as if she'd simply appeared there. Exquisitely dressed, as always, but more simply than before-- an unadorned black silk dress, hair
soft and loose around her face, and those eyes ... looking at him, through him, with shadows that Nick didn't want to name.

"Janette."

Her eyes left his and she walked past him, the silk of her dress brushing against him. She set a wrapped package on the bar-- Nick hadn't even noticed she was carrying anything. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice rough.

Her chin tilted slightly, and her eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?" Janette challenged in response.

Nick shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. "It's Susan's birthday. I know that there isn't a party this year ..."

Janette laughed, and Nick caught his breath at the sound. "You know? How would you know, Nicola?"

Nick glanced at the package Janette had set on the bar. "There is a party?"

"Of course." Janette tucked a wayward lock of hair behind one ear. "Why would there not be one?"

Nick's mouth twisted. "Because of everything that's happened since you left. You don't realize ..."

Janette's voice was firm, though it held neither censure nor absolution. "But I do."

He took a moment to consider that statement. "And there will still be a party?" Nick ran one hand through his hair, pushing away the memories.

Janette raised her eyebrows. "How like you, Nicola, to think that because of your traumas everything must stop." At his exclamation, she lifted one hand. "I am not implying they are trivial. I, more than anyone, understand the impact of your choices."

Nick was quiet.

Janette closed her eyes for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was soft. "Despite everything, we go on. It is what we do, after all." She turned and walked around the bar, trailing one hand along it as she went. "It looks different in here," she murmured to herself. "So much has changed."

"I was thinking the same thing." Nick watched as Janette began to pull out small plastic bags full of balloons and streamers from some hidden drawer, setting them on top of the bar in a neat row. "Janette..."

"Start blowing these up," she commanded, cutting him off. "Make yourself useful."

"Can't we hire someone to do this?"

"You are such a child, Nicola." For the first time, he heard something approaching the old affection in her voice. "We don't have time. Blow."

With an aggravated sigh, Nick pulled open one of the bags and began to stretch out a violently pink balloon. "Why <are> we still having a party for Susan, Janette? With everything that has happened?"

Janette was still and quiet for several long minutes, her hands resting on the edge of the bar as if it was all that kept her upright. When she spoke again, her voice was soft and sad. "You know why." She picked up several rolls of streamers, then paused and looked at Nick. "We are here. We will always be here, no matter what happens."

Nick nodded his head slowly. Janette seemed lost in thought. "Where else can we go to tell our stories?" she asked of no one in particular, and her voice echoed through the room. "Who else will hear us?"

"Who indeed."

Nick and Janette turned to see LaCroix standing in the doorway, watching them with his arms folded. His face was solemn as he regarded the pair. Nick should have been surprised to see him, but LaCroix's presence made perfect sense. Somehow, Nick felt no pain or anger as LaCroix approached them. He nodded at Nick, then took Janette's hands in his and kissed one gently.

"Bonsoir, Janette. You're looking well."

"Merci." She squeezed his hands before releasing them, their eyes locked. "Il y a longtemps."

"Oui."

LaCroix gestured around the room. "It does not look much like a party in here. Surely you plan to decorate? Make it a bit more festive?"

"You're the one who re-decorated," Janette reminded him with a touch of malice, smiling to soften the sting. "If Nicola would hurry up with the balloons ..."

Nick ignored her.

"Who is coming this year? The same group as last?"

Nick blanched-- it was possible for him to get even paler-- and Janette coughed delicately to cover what might have been a laugh. "For the most part. I did not invite... certain individuals, no matter how much they wished to attend."

"Such as?"

Janette frowned slightly. "Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. If he wasn't asking me intimate questions, he was-- occupying the back room with Dana. Very inconvenient. Very loud."

LaCroix looked uncomfortable for a moment. "You didn't invite ..."

"No. Neither of the two Jills are coming this year." Janette made no attempt to hide her laughter at this. "They are both busy." She raised an eyebrow, as if asking what could possibly be more important than this event. "You should be safe."

"I was not worried," LaCroix stated with false bravado.

"Of course not," Janette said smoothly.

LaCroix looked at his watch and sighed. "I should leave. I doubt that I am welcome at this party, and you have things to prepare."

Janette glanced down at herself. "First, I must change. Susan, especially, will expect something more elaborate than this." She touched LaCroix's hand, briefly, then ran one finger gently down Nick's cheek. "You, Nicola, should be careful this year. I do not think that everyone will be quite so happy to see you. Of course, this means the pajama debacle will not recur, which is a good thing."

Deliberately, she turned and disappeared into the back of the Raven. LaCroix looked after her, a half-smile on his lips, then nodded at Nick and started to leave.

"Wait."

"Yes?" LaCroix looked over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised.

"I don't think..." Nick paused. "I don't think Susan would mind if you stayed."

LaCroix turned slowly and was silent for several minutes. He looked around the room, taking everything in. For one moment they saw the Raven as it used to be.

Before.

"I would like to stay," said LaCroix, breaking the silence. "Perhaps I could help keep the guests in line."

Nick shook his head and walked behind the bar, pulling out a few more bags of decorations. "If you can keep that annoying starship captain from following Janette around all night, it would help. Since you won't be getting dragged off into a closet this year..."

LaCroix picked up a roll of streamers, ignoring Nick's comment. "Let me take care of these."

"Thank you."

Nick watched as LaCroix began to carefully tape one of the brightly colored streamers to the wall. It would be a very different party this year, Nick realized. New faces mixing with the old. New alliances. Old truces broken, and some reformed. Some faces missing-- and those losses deeply felt.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Nick set off to get ready for the party which, despite everything, would go on.

And it would be a very good party.

***