"Invitation To Attend"
By: Lt. Saavar, Science
Ensign Shirik Lektar, Operations

Location: Lektar's quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.27, 00h15

***

Saavar once more stood outside Shirik's room. This time he was dressed in his Class A uniform, and he had just gotten off shift. The chime rang out and he hoped that this time he did not have to begin a silent count.

The door slid open and Shirik stood in the opening, dressed in a simple sweater and pants. She took in the change of his uniform without comment, and said simply, "Hello."

The tall Vulcan smiled. "May I come in?" he asked with his hands clasped behind his back. "I am glad you choose to be sociable... " His eyes were a steel grey, and fathomless as he looked into her violet eyes. There was an air of expectancy about him, and the way he looked at her displayed a total fascination. "I...have missed your company," he said with a slight hesitation.

She stepped aside with a small smile. "Certainly. Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you anything?" Her gaze watched him curiously. Had he come only because he missed her? Was he lonely, perhaps?

He walked forward and past her but turned, his hands still clasped behind his back. "I require nothing," he smiled, "but your company. I was considering the formal ceremony to bestow promotions and commendations, and as I am required to attend, I thought that I would ask if you would accompany me. I would greatly appreciate your company."

Her expression darkened once more. She knew who else would be there. "Why are you required to attend?" she asked.

"It is my place to do so. It is a duty. I would enjoy your company, Shirik." He reached out a hand and touched her cheek lightly, the brushing contact sending sensations of the meld whispering in their minds. It was almost electric. She could feel the echo of his mind and the memory of what had gone before.... His eyes told her that he wanted to meld, but his fingers betrayed the yearning for it.

"I don't want to go..." she said, her eyes closing momentarily as his touch awakened the bond once more. She reached up for his hand and held it in hers. "Let's sit," she smiled slightly, gesturing at the sofa.

He followed her, but on the way he said, "You cannot escape functions of this magnitude. I certainly cannot, and as I said, I would appreciate your company as my official escort." As they sat, her hand's touch established the surface bond. ~I missed your company,~ he thought, and the words accompanied by the true meaning of it reached her.

"I certainly can," she said. "I'm not required to attend, that I know of..." She sat with him, and was mildly surprised by the emotion behind his words. They brought a more genuine smile to her lips. "I just don't feel up to being in a room full of people just yet." She knew he'd understand, she was still hurting inside, and the last thing she wanted was a roomful of people to see it.

The Vulcan nodded. With almost infinite care he reached up to brush a finger along her jaw. It was a barest touch but it held that same whisper of desire. His eyes were deep black irises and steel grey bands that seemed almost hypnotic.

She looked away. Intimate contact was the last thing she wanted from anyone at the moment. "Not now..." she whispered, her smile fading.

He drew his hand away. "I am sorry," he said gently. "You are behaving illogically, even for you. You have loved him for a while now, and yet you still enjoyed our bonding. You still enjoy the attentions of Sorg Jurell. What has the sudden unavailability of T'Kal to do with the denial of your own desires. He was as unavailable a month ago as he is today, yet you mourn as if it is a sudden loss."

"I don't know... I only know that for me it is a sudden loss. I almost feel as if he's died, and maybe that is illogical, but I am illogical, too. I'm not a Vulcan. and at the moment, I don't have any desires, for anyone." She sighed. "Don't be sorry...you didn't do anything wrong."

"I know," he stated matter of factly. "Perhaps you should behave as if he truly is deceased."

She regarded him. "What do you mean?"

"It is the only way to get over the emotional attachment you have formed. Sever the ties that bind. Get on with your life. As a Drokari, your family would be most concerned that you have formed such an attachment for a male, let alone an off-worlder. You are acting contrary to your whole belief system. Why?"

"It's not as if I chose this, Saavar. You can't understand, because it's never happened to you, just the way I couldn't have understood it a month ago. But some day, you will. Someday it will just happen, and you won't have any control over it, and then you'll understand. I can ignore it, I can bury it, I can pretend it doesn't exist, but it's still there, and I don't know if it will ever go away."

"I can assist you," he offered. "S'at training."

"S'at training is not the answer to everything," she said. "It certainly didn't do you any favors. You're so much more free now... you're relaxed, you're enjoying yourself at times... S'at training doesn't allow for that."

"But it will assist you to put aside your feelings until you are ready to take them up again.."

"That's already what I'm doing," she said. "I just... I just need to get through it in my own way, at my own pace. I know you want to help, but... I have to do this on my own." She took his hand in hers once more, and gave it a grateful squeeze for his offer of help.

He nodded, the bond between them strong with their skin contact.

She relaxed as he let the subject go, and turned her violet gaze to him. "All right.... I'll go with you."

---

"Incomparable Moments"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla - Executive Officer
Lt.Commander Benedict T'Kal - Chief of Security

Location: Lyrr and Ben's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.27, 06h45

***

The steady throb of his heartbeat, the rise and fall of his chest, against which her head swayed synchronously, tranquilly; the security of their legs twined perfectly as she lay half atop him, with one arm draped over his shoulder, upon which rested the long, tanned fingers of his hand in contrast to her pale flesh; his other hand cradled the slope of her hip beneath the heavy, wrinkled sheets which kept her exposed frame protected from the cool air of their quarters, but most of the true warmth she derived all night had come from her body curled against his; it was the tangibility of the moment, including the latent pain of her sliced palm and the more pleasant ache localized between her legs, that convinced her this was no dream she would soon be forced to wake from.

Lyrr Tayla never wanted this moment to fade from memory, or the night leading up to it. She'd achieved little sleep, despite her exhaustion, but the excitement of reaching such a momentous turning point in her grim existence imbued her with more than enough stamina to run a circuit of the ship...twice. Lyrr chuckled, blushing, and buried her face into Ben's chest upon recall of just such a feat of endurance displayed the previous night. There was no suspecting she was capable of such voracity, but she'd proven differently, and wondered when next she would do so again with Ben.

There was still time before shift, and Lyrr had deactivated the computer's automated alarm to avoid disturbing Ben's rest. Now, she was free to watch him, study his angular features that had softened considerably following their near terminal argument. What had she been so afraid of when Tagliesh taunted them about their engagement? Why had she been so ashamed? She knew, now. It had been Oresh, always Oresh. There was the nagging doubt that she could ever be good enough for Ben, not when she'd willingly lain with a Card assian. But had it been so voluntary an act? She'd been programmed, Ben told her - that Oresh may have tortured her, but by securing her for himself and protecting her from the other Cardassian brutes at the camp, he had gained her trust and devotion.

She had done anything to retain it, anything and everything Oresh had asked for. What was truly the most disheartening was that in many instances, he hadn't even needed to ask. There'd been jealousy when his eye strayed to the other young girls toiling at the camp - she never knew for certain, but always suspected that on those nights he was absent from her bed, it was another girl lying beneath him. Those nights, Lyrr had often cried herself fitfully to sleep.

"You are my favourite," he would frequently insist, though with little conviction, and much condescension in his tone. And Lyrr sought to maintain that position by pleasuring him, much as she had pleasured Ben. Even the jealousy she experienced when Ben devoted attention to another, the fierce possessiveness she felt towards him - they, too, paralleled her time with Oresh. The thought made her cringe and clutch Ben tightly. She refused to compare the two, a monster and the man she loved. But not so long ago, the two had been one and the same. Long ago, she reminded herself. But not any longer, not ever again.

Her love was true this time, and not an artifact of misplaced gratitude for a man who was afflicting more suffering upon her than he ever saved her from. She wasn't sixteen any longer, and wasn't a prisoner of war. She was with Ben of her own free will, and loved him with just the same. He'd gently peeled away her barriers and exposed the root of her fear. He'd saved her from a life of despair and she would forever be indebted to him for that.

But her love for him... Lyrr could not yet qualify it, but it was there - simply peering up at him as he slept, dark hair framing his strong face and cascading over broad shoulders, the most imperceptible of smiles curving his lips.... All of it told her it was so, and her heart was declaring it just as loudly. But, she wasn't much for trusting her heart, not when it had lied to her times before. She trusted Ben, though, and he would not have offered her a marriage vow if he didn't believe her affections for him were sincere.

"A safe deduction, isn't it?" she whispered to him, then smiled and craned her neck to kiss his chin. A safe deduction, she hoped.

The caress of her lips woke him. He smiled even before he opened his eyes and tightened his hold on her as he sighed half-asleep yet half-awake, only conscious of her warm body fitting so snugly against him. His arm ached from where her weight had pressed upon it for so long, but that was a cheap price to pay for how he felt. Was it all a dream? He hoped not. Her body pressed against him was smooth and strong, and she moved with him as he half rolled, clutching her to him and snuggling into her neck. He made a contented sound deep in his throat as he kissed her neck, and they were twined together. He didn't want to separate, or wake fully. He was so content being where he was: in her arms.

"Sleep," she murmured, stroking his hair to lull him back into slumber. Her lips grazed his forehead, then she turned her cheek to press against it. They'd come far in the short months they'd known one another, but it was the perfect moments like this that brought everything into focus. "I love you," she declared in Bajoran, the words so much more lyrical and carrying more depth spoken in their mother tongue. Her fingers swam through his long hair, and continued downwards to stroke his spine. The fearsome tiger's eyes, faceted chips of gold, stared back at her, and with a soft laugh she affectionately petted its head. It wasn't so intimidating after all. "And I love you as well," she told it, and smoothed her hand over its arched back.

Benedict heard the words, spoken in Bajoran and he felt the soft caress of her hand against his back and knew that it was okay. He was awake enough to know that she was happy, and contented. He felt elated, contented, and fulfilled. He smiled against her neck, his fingers stroked her hip. "I love you," he said in a soft whispered Bajoran. He'd lain awake long after she had slept in exhaustion in the night. He'd worried himself sick at the thought of what would happen in the morning, how she would react to what they had done. He felt such relief that he held her a little tighter with his admission of love.

He'd reacted so badly the previous day. During the night he had come to realise that he was in a completely different relationship to any he had known. He wasn't with a Klingon any longer - the standards of honour and guarded words no longer applied to Tayla. His relationship with Tebrianne had been based on a complete understanding through another medium entirely from mere words, and that had mitigated much. They had understood. He had to lay his strictness aside for her. He had to if he hoped for their relationship to avoid such clear disasters as yesterday. He felt shamed by his actions, or overreactions. Never again.

So he took a moment longer to totally enjoy her closeness. "I love you," he whispered again.

"I know," she assured him. "And I won't doubt it anymore. All we need now," she sighed, slipping both arms around his shoulders, "is to slow down a bit, and enjoy it."

He chuckled against her skin, her warm scent and pliant body felt wonderful. "Yes," he agreed in a soft lilting Bajoran, "Beloved, my Love, my future wife...let's slow down...and enjoy it."

Lyrr grinned. "Good idea," she said. "And to kick it off, how about you just call me...Tayla."

He chuckled again. Yes, he thought, the new status will take some time to get used to. "Okay, Love," he whispered. "Tayla it is." He kissed her neck and stroked her back, his lips travelling across her throat and down in soft touches against her flesh.

The rolling tingle between her thighs was quick to arise, and Lyrr's laughter came in sighs as he progressed further downwards. "It's...it's not time again, is it?" she asked. "If so...I don't think I'm fully recovered yet."

He did laugh at that - softly against her skin as he rolled onto his back, bringing her above him. He held her there, and kissed her. "The time, my Love...is anytime you desire."

She smiled curiously. "You mean...it's all up to me?" Lyrr paused, studying her fingers splayed against his chest quizzically. Glancing up sidelong, she asked, "So...I decide when the next time is? Even if you're...you know...ready?"

He looked at her seriously, stilling his attentions, reaching up to stroke her cheek. "Always," he said softly. "You decide, it's up to you. Yes or no, when or where...whether you are ready to make love again or not. It's a lot to get used to...and maybe you're not ready to...explore this again for a while. That is okay, Love. I understand." He smiled tenderly, still caught up in the wonder of how she had been in the night. "I love you, and that's the way it will be."

It was nearly difficult to fathom, being in such control, but he'd offered it to her, and now Lyrr had no idea how to use it. She sighed pensively and lay her head upon his chest. "That's a lot to take," she whispered. "I'm not the kind of woman to just...be so forward about those things. How will I know, if it's time for me, that you're feeling the same way in that moment? Or...or how will I know if it's even appropriate depending on the circumstances?" Lyrr looked up again, perplexity creasing her brow. "Ben...I've never had this before: normal. I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing."

He laughed gently. "Oh you know what to do alright...and when the mood takes you." He grinned and stroked her back. "I don't think you've had any kind of problem being forward...and as for appropriate...any time it suits us both is fine. Just never on duty...and never in a turbo-lift."

She smiled wanly. "Yeah...I was pretty sure those were off limits. I just...I don't want to do anything inappropriate. My...my teacher didn't exactly have very high moral standards." Lyrr sighed and nestled her head beneath his chin. "I don't want to do anything shocking or depraved... That's all I'm worried about."

That did make him go cold. He was glad she wasn't looking at his face, but he continued stroking her back, and he had to wait a moment to be sure that his voice was steady. "What is between us is between us," he whispered lightly. "I won't ever hurt you...pain has no place between us, and you have a different teacher now. Don't think of those things."

"But I have to," she told him. "I have to worry about those things because I want this to be perfect, Ben." Her head rose, and she was smiling now. "Don't worry, he's nothing now, nothing at all," she whispered. "All I mean is that...I want to do this the right way, and I want us to take our time to do that. That means we might be doing a little more talking than" --she grinned demurely-- "other things for a time...but I think we'll be better for it in the end. Right?"

He smiled at her, cupping her face in both hands. "You belong to me now. You are everything I want and everything I need. It will be perfect. I promise."

That was all the reassurance she needed, especially coming from Ben. All concerns banished, she grinned and offered him the 'good morning' kiss he deserved. "Come on," she murmured, planting kisses slowly down to his throat, "I think we're due for a shower."

Chuckling as she evaded his lips seeking her own, Lyrr rolled out of bed. Before he could follow, her eyes narrowed mischievously as, with a single quick jerk, she pulled the covers clear of his body and the bed. Lyrr examined his bared form briefly, and clucked her tongue at him. "Just as I thought." She grinned. "Cold, very cold." And tossing the balled up sheets at him to delay pursuit, she laughed and darted for the refresher.

"I'll give you cold!" he laughed, rushing after her.

Despite earlier threats, the shower water was set to a steaming, luxuriously hot temperature, though even if it had been frigid, Lyrr and Ben would have been too engrossed in kissing and caressing, lathering and teasing to notice. He gingerly tended to her wounded hand once they'd stepped out, saving her a trip to sickbay, and after it was patched up, she returned his affectionate ministrations by combing through his endless stream of raven hair for him, though not without stealing a kiss or three in the process.

When they were both dried, coiffured, and clothed, they attempted with great difficulty to drag themselves from their bedroom. Lyrr was breathless from kissing, and flushed with desire by the time they made it into the living area; she very nearly pulled him back into the room after one look into his fiercely passionate eyes.

"I can see mornings are going to be a struggle for us," she commented, her voice thick with arousal.

He chuckled as he held her. "Now...this is an inappropriate time," he nearly growled in her ear. "We have to be on the Bridge in five minutes." He kissed her again, the hunger she had aroused was difficult to deny. "Come on." He took her hand and led her to the door, giving her one last kiss as the door opened, to once again stride through the corridors of deck three hand in hand.

There was no insecurity this time, even on the turbolift ride where many an inquisitive eye was upon them. Lyrr hardly noticed them, not while Ben whispered into her ear an endless string of passages devoted to love, written by some obscure Bajoran poet. She was blushing and withholding a smile the entire ride up. When the lift did halt, they were the last to exit, and their hands detached only when they stepped onto the bridge. She watched him longingly as they drifted further and further apart - she to the command well, he to his tactical station. Lyrr mumbled a greeting to Matt, but her eyes refused to focus on him.

Benedict stepped up to Taylor Bennett at the Tactical Station and smiled a greeting, promptly taking over the station and dismissing her off shift. As soon as she was on her way he glanced at the command well, just as Tayla stepped into it. He met her eyes for a brief second and his smile broadened. He looked away before the rest of the Bridge crew saw him, but as he looked around again he caught a sly grin from Ensign Sanchez as the Operations Officer headed off the Bridge. "Morning, sir," the man nodded as he passed.

And it was an incomparable one at that.

---

"The Breakfast Club"
Ensign Shirik Lektar, Operations
CPO Calyca Boothroyd, Engineering
Crewman Sorg Jurell, Security [NPC+]
Ensign Kate Hansen, Security [NPC]
Crewman D'Naal, Security [NPC]
Crewman 2nd Solomon Rush, Security [NPC]
PO Marion Herald, Security [NPC]
PO Robert Daly, Security [NPC]
PO 3rd Mitchell Mullens, Security [NPC]
Crewman Kaven Lucas, Security [NPC]

Location: Boothroyd's Quarters; Mess Hall, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.27, 06h55

***

Shirik stood outside Calyca's quarters, dressed for duty in her uniform, her hair braided. She was setting in motion the plan that had sparked in her head only the day before. Whether it worked or not, she was going to have mixed emotions about it. So she'd just see what happened. She rang the chime.

Caly was ready and waiting when the chime rang. "Come," she called out as she brushed an imaginary speck of lint from her uniform and shouldered her pack as the door whooshed silently open. "Do I pass inspection?" she grinned at Shirik, holding her arms out and even opening her mouth for her to see, stifling a laugh as she did.

Shirik folded her arms and gave her friend a critical look-over. "Hmmm... acceptable," she smiled. "Just try to mind your manners," she teased. "Come on, I told Sorg we'd meet him in the mess hall, so he's probably already there."

"Hey now... I have impeccable manners. I don't scratch in public or anything," she grinned and fell in with Shirik as they left her quarters. "I've told you before...I could hold my own, even in your court," she teased, the joke old between them.

"I may make you prove it some day, be careful," she grinned. "No burping or talking with your mouth full, either."

Caly rolled her eyes at Shirik and placed her hand over her heart. "You wound me," she sighed dramatically. "And my mother would have kittens if I ever did anything like that in public.... Although there was one time..." She grinned.

Shirik laughed as she entered the turbolift. "I knew it. Mess Hall," she ordered the computer, and fell silent once more for the ride. She wondered if she'd ever be comfortable in a turbolift again.

Caly leaned against the lift wall and grinned over at Shirik. "It was a drinking party, and I had to defend my department's honor," she told her, trying to lighten Shirik's mood.

"Oh, don't let that get around... Farrell will have you at a margarita party next, to defend Engineering's honor," she laughed. The doors opened and they stepped out into the mess hall. Shirik looked around and spotted the table with Sorg and the other security officers. "Come on, there they are." She led the way to their table, casting a smile at those who saw them coming.

"Mmm... My lips are sealed," she grinned at Shirik and stepped off the turbolift. Wide, sparkling green eyes scanned the room and settled on the table her friend indicated. "Sure you don't want to check my uniform again?" she whispered to Shirik as she followed her, clearly teasing. She had a ready smile for those at the table as they approached.

Sorg stood as usual as the two women approached his table. His eyes took in Shirik's smile and he was glad that she was feeling better. The woman behind her stepped into view and he took in the short red hair and the deep green eyes and the impish expression, and he nodded and smiled at her.

"Hey." Kaven Lucas stood beside Sorg and his tattooed face split into a grin as he regarded Shirik Lektar. He was tall and his hair pulled back tightly in a cue. He looked frightening with half of his face covered in the tribal markings of his culture. His chest was broad and muscular. "Welcome back darlin'....er...sir." Kaven was on Beta shift, but he preferred to stick with the normal cycle.

Shirik shot him a look that was somewhat less than amused, but let it go without comment since he amended it.

Sorg gave him a sideways look but laughed.

At the table Kate Hansen leaned back and regarded the two women with a frank stare. Alternating between Shirik's slender body and midnight skin and the Calyca's deep green eyes and red hair she smiled. Her dark eyes settled on Calyca: green eyes. She bit her lower lip and gave a slight wave.

D'Naal, always the perfect Vulcan simply nodded a greeting, her fingers holding a handless cup of Vulcan tea.

Solomon Rush and Marion Herald both grinned and nodded, though Marion said, "Glad you're okay, Miss Lektar, ma'am," in his slightly gravelly voice.

Robert Daly stood and made room next to him, pulling a couple of chairs around. He grinned at Calyca and said, "Hi, there.... Please, join our merry band. The more the merrier."

Shirik nodded a greeting to everyone. "This is Chief Calyca Boothroyd, engineering and my very good friend." The last was tacked on as a subtle warning to some. "This is my friend Sorg Jurell," she introduced him to Caly, and let the rest make their own introductions.

Caly smiled at each of them, nodding in return, the impish look growing a bit with the banter of some. She moved around to where Robert had pulled out the chairs, nodding her thanks but not taking a seat yet. "Gentlemen, and ladies. Ma'am," she acknowledged Hansen's rank and offered a hand to Sorg. "It's a pleasure to meet you all, and you I've heard about." She grinned impishly at Sorg, green eyes watching him curiously.

Sorg shook her hand and smiled warmly. "Hi," he said simply, a little embarrassed by her dancing eyes. He turned slightly and pointed at each face, introducing them by name. Then sat as everyone resumed their talking and eating.

Caly's impish smile widened a bit at his simple 'hi' and she turned to look and smile and nod at each in turn as Sorg introduced them, committing faces and names to memory.

"I didn't know Shirik had a friend in engineering," he grinned, looking at Shirik with reproval. "How did you meet?" he asked the red haired engineer.

"We met on the Exeter," Caly told him as she settled into one of the offered chairs and secured her pack between her feet. "We were roommates. She objected at first. But I grew on her. I tend to do that," she grinned, her gaze straying to her friend.

Kaven leaned over the table. "Can I get you anything?" he asked Shirik.

Shirik shrugged at Sorg and took a seat. She eyed Kaven, but decided to take him up on his offer. "I'll have some French toast with sausage links and a tall chocolate milk, please." She added a smile on the end.

Kaven grinned and nodded as he went to get her breakfast from the replicator. For an officer she was a decent sort, and making up for his past foolery with her favorite drink he thought doing her a few favors would suffice.

As he left the table Kate Hansen leaned forward, one hand holding a piece of sliced pear. "I heard you almost died," she said in her soft lilting accent. "What was it like? Did you have any of those experiences?" Her dark eyes were intense and she smiled slightly at the Drokari Princess.

Shirik glanced sideways at the woman as she waited for her breakfast. "No, not really. I lapsed into a coma and was taken to sickbay, where I was revived." She glanced over at Sorg. "It's a good thing I wasn't alone when it happened."

Hansen looked disappointed. "Iceman's always cold under pressure...he's good like that. Always knows what to do. He should get promoted soon." Kate watched as Shirik's eyes flicked to Sorg Jurell. "You still carrying a torch for the Bossman?" she smiled.

Before she could ask about the nickname, the rest of Hansen's words hit her, and all humor was gone from her face. The glare she lanced the woman with could have melted titanium. "Excuse me?" she asked in a low dangerous tone. The kind of tone that said it was a subject best dropped.

"Hey, sorry." Kate lost her smile for a fraction. "I didn't mean anything.. it was just the way you're watching Sorg...it seemed...like you were interested."

"We're just friends." she said tightly. She seemed to be saying that an awful lot lately, and was getting kind of tired of it.

"Good," Kate Hansen smiled. "Maybe we could go for coffee sometime."

Shirik eyed her warily. Not another one, she thought. "Maybe," she answered neutrally.

Kate seemed satisfied with the neutral answer and turned her attention to her breakfast. She ate in silence as she glanced at Shirik and at Boothroyd, watching the interplay with interest.

"I believe you," Sorg said to Calyca as he laughed. "She's never talked about you, so I have nothing to go on. So what's she been telling you about me?" he asked conspiratorially as Shirik started talking to Hansen.

Caly turned her gaze and focus back to Sorg, the interplay between Shirik and Hansen there in the back of her mind. She was still worried about her friend, and was probably keeping tabs where she didn't need to. She laughed softly at Sorg's question, the sound rather melodic as it slipped from her lips, and she leaned closer to answer him just as conspiratorially. "She says you're a good guy and covers her ass," she grinned. "Now, would you like something to eat?" She sat back. "I'm starved and am about to go get something."

He laughed. "And it's a very cute ass too," he quipped. "Yes I'll join you." He stood with her and waved her ahead of him, following her to the line at the replicator. He noticed that Ms. Boothroyd was similarly endowed. He glanced back at Shirik but she was conversing with Hansen, and Hansen had that look in her eyes. He turned back to Calyca as she moved forward. Standing in line they were fairly close.

Caly couldn't help but laugh again at his quip. "Yes indeed it is," she agreed, clearly teasing. Although Shirik really did have a cute ass. "Especially when she pours it into her exercise gear." She looked up at him and grinned. "And she calls you a friend," she added on a more serious note, turning to the replicator when they reach it and ordering a surprisingly big breakfast for someone her size. "I think that's a good thing." She stepped aside and let him get what he wanted.

"Wow you eat well. I like to see that in a girl," he grinned. "Those who eat salads in public and gorge on chocolate in quarters...." He shook his head in disapproval. As his fingers tapped out his choice of menu he said, "I wish we were closer than just friends...but it'll never happen." He smiled at Calyca. "Yeah, I think it's a good thing too." He lifted his tray laden with his own breakfast of steak, eggs and Bajoran Breakfast Cake, and a mug of Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee. "After you, ma'am," he nodded to the table. "So..." he said as they walked, "what do I call you? You can call me Jurell."

"I'd die on salads," she told him. "I tend to be a bit hyperactive so I burn it off." She watched him critically for a moment and nodded. "Well, anything's possible," she smiled a bit of encouragement, not that she wanted to encourage him really, but she didn't want to see him discouraged either. Besides, anything was possible. Or so she believed. "Jurell's a nice name. Most everyone calls me Caly, or Booter. A few call me Llew. I'll answer to just about anything. Don't call me ma'am though." She smiled and glanced over at Shirik as she retook her seat, making sure her friend was alright before turning her attention back to Sorg.

Lucas returned to the table and slid a laden tray before Shirik. "There ya go, sir," he grinned and shot Kate Hansen a look.

"Thank you," she said, grateful for the interruption in the conversation with Hansen. She began shoveling food hungrily.

"Booter?" Sorg grinned, as he set out his dishes. "I like Caly...."

"Yeah, a shortened, bastardized version of Boothroyd." She held her hand out for his tray when he was done, to add to her own and set them aside. "It started as a joke when I used to hang out in my father's lab all the time and just stuck," she explained. "Caly's fine. Have you been on the Sulu long, Jurell?" she asked as she started to eat.

"Since her commission," he nodded. "Before that I was in the Bajoran militia. I've been in uniformed service most of my life." He took a sip of the black coffee and savoured the taste. "I love human coffee..." he smiled. "How's it in Engineering? The last few weeks had to have been a little hairy for you."

Caly watched him and smiled. No wonder Shirik liked him. He was nice. "Hectic, hairy, the pressure was definitely on," she agreed. "I didn't mind. I do my best work when I'm under pressure, I think. Thaine's good. And he runs a tight ship. I'm impressed with how well everyone works together. I like it."

Sorg nodded. "He's a likeable sort. Though I think he puts up a scary front. I don't have much to do with engineering as a whole, but I'm glad you like it. I'm glad you have such faith in your boss too, that speaks well of him more than anything else can." He grinned. "I like pressure too," he agreed. "Standing post in the Computer Core isn't that thrilling." He leaned forward and whispered, "But don't tell Shirik that."

"He is scary," she laughed teasingly. "But he handled himself well during the crisis. The man has a cool head. I like and respect that." She grinned when he whispered and leaned in to whisper back, eyes sparkling mischievously, "I think she already knows."

He laughed softly as he took a bite of steak. It was good and he smiled as he ate. "A cool head is very important," he agreed. "What happened to you during the crisis? Did you evac or stay?" His eyes weighed her, and her response.

"Indeed it is." Caly thought this was good. If Shirik had people around her that laughed and smiled easily, then perhaps she'd get over T'Kal more rapidly. And Jurell seemed like he could do that easily enough. "After everyone got out of engineering I stayed and helped the Lieutenant with the core," she told him. "You?"

"You did?" he looked impressed. "So you stuck it out." He nodded as he took another bite. That was impressive. She'd stayed during a core breach incident. That would have been hairy indeed - because he knew just how close it had come. "You've got what it takes." He smiled. "Me...I just helped out in medical. Making sure everyone got into the pods." But he'd stayed too. If he'd died it would have been doing his duty. That was important.

Shirik's keen ears were listening to Caly and Sorg's conversation while she ate and conversed with Hansen. Her expression darkened a bit when talk turned to the evacuation, and everyone else dying while she was hauled unconscious into an escape pod. She hadn't had a choice in the matter, and that was a sore spot with her.

Caly shrugged a bit and smiled. "Wasn't my time to go," she admitted. "And really, I didn't do much besides keep the boss company. He did all the work." She watched him quietly for a moment, her eyes doing their own share of being impressed. "That's a big thing. I'd be all thumbs in medical. And I know it was hectic and hairy in there. I'm glad you were there. I didn't even know Shirik was on board till after the crisis."

He smiled wanly. "I was only there because I took Shirik there after she.... After the lift. Then I was assigned to sickbay because I've got advanced medic training. I'm glad I was there...to be with her...." He looked a little saddened. "Did she tell you I deserted her?" He looked up into her wide green eyes. "She won't forgive that...that I couldn't face seeing her dying." His voice was soft so that it went unheard by the others.

"Hey...." She reached a hand out and lightly touched her fingertips to his forearm. "She didn't. But I'm not sure I could have watched it. Don't blame yourself, Jurell. Someday Shiri will understand," she tried to assure him. "Thank you for saving her life. If not for you, she'd be gone now."

He grinned at that. "True. I must admit it was the longest kiss I've ever had to give." He laughed and looked down at her hand that touched him. He felt warmed by her, and he was glad that she was Shirik's friend. A feminine perspective, and Calyca didn't look like she could share Shirik's depression. "Thanks," he said more softly. "That means a lot." He nodded and took another bite, chewing thoughtfully.

Caly laughed softly. "I'll bet. And a heady kiss it must have been too." The pressure of her fingers increased slightly and for a mere heartbeat before her touch was gone and she smiled at him. "You're welcome. Now just help me keep her smiling," she whispered conspiratorially again, leaning close so only he could hear her.

He nodded. "I'll do my best," he whispered, gazing into her eyes. His smile was slightly bemused.

Across the table Solomon turned to Marion Herald and chuckled. "Man, and I thought Davies was fast.."

Herald grinned. "Give the boy a break, Sol, he doesn't get out much."

Shirik shot the two of them a warning look to silence them. Herald chuckled and Soloman winked back at Shirik.

Caly blinked at that slightly bemused smile and smiled back, her gaze going over to Solomon and Herald when they spoke and she smiled at both of them. She looked at Shirik then, and it wasn't hard to tell from the look on her face that she held a deep affection for the Drokari Princess. "Corny stuff makes her smile," she turned back to Jurell and told him in a low voice. "That or she's humoring me. Probably the latter," she grinned.

"I'll remember that," he grinned. "What makes you laugh?" He sipped his coffee, ignoring the chiding from across the table.

Shirik turned her attention to watching them as she ate. They were getting along well, as she knew they would. It was only a matter of time now, she thought.

"Who, me?" Caly blinked and couldn't help the soft laugh that sprang to her lips at his question. She leaned in and whispered, "Corny stuff." And then she sat back up and asked him, "What makes you laugh?"

"Many things," he nodded. "You're making a good start." He grinned. "Stand up comedians. I love that...corny stuff?" he chuckled around his coffee mug. "What do you call corny stuff?"

"Oh, stand up comedians are good," she agreed with a grin. "I just usually never take the time to watch them," she admitted. "You know... Corny stuff. And silly things," she added. "Like listening to Shirik's comments about my corny attempt to make her smile. And I think you're flattering me."

"Of course I am," he laughed easily. "Pretty girls need to be flattered every once in a while."

Herald turned to Solomon. "The boy's good, I'll give him that," he whispered

"Has he been taking lessons recently?" Solomon asked with a grin.

"He's coming out of his shell...the Iceman is thawing out." Marion chuckled.

Shirik took some pride in that, thinking she was probably responsible for some of that thawing. She tried to silence the others with looks as she ate.

Caly almost started to say something smart, but didn't. Instead she smiled at him, definitely not missing the gist of the banter around them. "Thank you," she offered graciously. "And why do they call you Iceman?" she finally asked.

Both Herald and Rush took the cue from Shirik's dagger-like gaze and grinned but turned to converse with Daly and Mullens. The recent topics at the breakfast table were the new shift rosters, the creation of a new Tactical team and the surprising engagement of the XO to the Security Chief - although that conversation was in hushed tones and not for ears outside of security.

Shirik could hear it, though, and she stared moodily into her plate as she forced the rest of her food down her. She tried to listen to Sorg and Caly instead.

Sorg Jurell sipped his coffee. "Iceman is my com callsign if we're in hostile territory. We're not allowed to choose our call-signs. They're given to us by consensus...mine is Iceman," he smiled. "They say I'm cold under fire...like ice." He chuckled. "It's hard to explain. I get this unreal sense of calm...it's weird. Like everything slows down." His eyes took on a dreamy look, cold blue.

Caly nodded in perfect understanding. "I know exactly what you mean. Something similar happens to me." She watched his eyes and smiled a little. "Only my eyes don't get quite that blue," she teased. There was a note of respect in her voice though. Her gaze turned from Jurell to glance at Shirik, concern clouding her eyes a bit as she watched her.

"I'd hope not," he quipped. "Your eyes are green...very green." He looked at Shirik too - the Drokari woman was focused on her plate, seemingly disinterested in the conversations around her. "Hey, just a thought...." He looked back at Calyca. "Shirik is going to the awards party with Saavar... Would you go with me?"

Caly blinked. Shirik was going to the awards party with Saavar? Oh now, that was interesting. "She is, hmm?" Those green eyes had followed Sorg's gaze and turned to rest on her friend in curious contemplation. T'Kal would be there with the XO.... Shirik was going to have to get used to seeing them together. It wasn't like she'd be able to avoid it for the next six months, but... She frowned and her eyes were clouded with worry when they turned back to Jurell. "I can't. I volunteered for duty," she told him quietly, offering him a wry little smile. The fact that he'd asked her on a date got lost somewhere in her worry for her friend.

"Oh...okay." He smiled and nodded. "Someone has to work I guess. I might volunteer as well."

Shirik shot her friend a definite glare. "If I have to go, you'd better go, too," she said.

"I...." Caly started to answer Jurell, but turned to look at Shirik when she spoke up. She quirked a brow, a definite grin curving the corners of her mouth as she tried not to smirk at the glare. "You have to go?"

"Do you think I want to go? Saavar wants me to go, and I know if I try to say no, he'll be ringing my door chime all night long." She rolled her eyes.

Caly couldn't contain her laughter, but it was short-lived and good-natured, and affectionate. "I could disconnect it for you," she offered with a grin.

"Believe me, it wouldn't help." She smiled. "So, you have to go too, or I will come looking for you with Saavar, and we will both drag you to the party."

Caly sat back in her chair and cradled her mug of coffee in her hands, green eyes dancing impishly as she glanced around the table at the others before her gaze settled back on Shirik. "You know... I think I'd pay to see that," she commented idly and took a sip of the dark brew. A visual of the Vulcan Science officer dragging anyone popped into her head and made her grin.

"If she's volunteered to work, you shouldn't bully her, Shirik." Sorg gave the green-eyed girl a smile. It sounded like Shirik was trying to bully her into going with him, and it irked him that she'd step in like that. If she didn't want to go with him, he could understand it. There was no reason for her to be pressured into going with him. He turned to Calyca. "It's okay, if you don't want to go, no one will make you."

Shirik just shrugged and fell silent, looking around for some coffee.

Caly watched her friend for a moment and turned to smile at Jurell. "Shirik knows I hate these things," she told him quietly, as if imparting a secret, although she wasn't really whispering. She leaned forward and offered Shirik her mug. "I just think you want me to come be a foil to your stunning beauty." She winked at her friend, clearly teasing and trying to lighten Shirik's mood.

"I'll come," she announced as she sat back in her chair once again. "Providing I can find someone to cover for me."

Sorg Jurell just nodded. He wasn't going to ask twice and get turned down again. He concentrated on eating, finishing his meal quickly.

"And assuming Jurell's still willing to let me tag along with him 'cause I'm certainly not tagging along with you and Saavar," she told Shirik and looked over to Sorg with a slightly arched, questioning brow.

Jurell nodded. "That would be okay," he smiled, "You can tag along." His eyes were mischievous, but he held her eyes for a moment. "I'd really like that," he added more seriously. "Thanks."

"No, thank you for saving me from shadowing Shirik and Saavar. It would remind me of all those functions I was forced to attend with my parents"," she grinned at him, clearly teasing Shirik in her tone and glancing over at her friend.

Shirik snorted. "Don't worry, it'll be fun. I don't know about the rest of you, but I for one do not plan to wear my dress whites any longer than absolutely necessary. After the awards ceremony, we can slip off to change into something more...comfortable..." she grinned slyly, the gears in her head turning. "And there must be dancing of course." She grinned. "Jurell's a very good dancer...."

He blushed crimson at that. "You're trying to embarrass me aren't you?" he asked Shirik.

"Me? Nonsense," she said with her best innocent look, but it dissolved into a grin before long.

Caly quirked a brow at Shirik's sly grin. "He is, hmm?" She smiled at Jurell, giving him a look of total understanding at turning crimson.

"Dress whites are required at the ceremony, but I guess I could wear my tux again. You'll have to put me on your dance card before any of these jokers fill it!" He flicked his head at the others at the table.

"Oh, and he does look good in a tux...." Shirik drawled.

Kate Hansen grinned. "Save one for me," she said in a sly tone. "You can't let the boys have all the fun."

"Hmmm...very true. I'm sure there's enough of me to go around."

Kate grinned and chuckled. She'd heard that the Princess certainly did get around. She decided that she'd better glam it up too - though classic black was always stylish. Then again she didn't have any other color...except maybe a splash of red.

Caly finished the rest of her meal as she listened to the banter around the table and cast a speculative glance towards Hansen when she asked Shirik for a dance and grinned at her friend when she agreed. "We're going to have to divvy you up," she teased.

"An arm here...a leg there..." Shirik chuckled.

"I know what I'd--" Kaven started, but he was cut off by Sorg.

"Don't start." Jurell grinned. "I already have dibs on my favorite piece." He gave Shirik a suggestive grin.

That actually got Shirik's face to darken just a bit, although those who didn't know her well probably wouldn't notice. "I won't even ask which piece that is."

Caly's brows arched and she looked from Jurell to Shirik. "Oh hell, I will," she grinned and looked to Sorg. "Which piece?"

"We already discussed that," he grinned at Calyca. "You know...you said she pours herself into the exercise gear...?"

Shirik rolled her eyes. "I'd like to see what you wear to exercise," she said to Sorg, and then she grinned. "You should see what Caly wears..." She gave her friend a sly look.

"Oh right. Thhaatt piece," Caly grinned and laughed at Shirik's eye roll. "I'm so gonna be watching your hands, Jurell," she teased. "I wear boring stuff that clashes," she told him and blew Shirik a kiss.

"Clashes and reveals," Shirik teased back with a grin.

Sorg chuckled and looked between the two women. There was something about Calyca that brought out a much happier Shirik - almost a girlish Shirik. He liked it. Calyca had an infectious humor. He found himself looking forward to her company, and it looked as if Shirik wanted that too. "I'm sure that your advice on her wardrobe will create quite an impression," he said to Shirik.

"No doubt it will. Together, we'll have to beat the men off with sticks." She gave Caly a smile.

Now it was Caly's turn to roll her eyes. "Oh, Pll-ease. I'm perfectly happy with what I wear. And it doesn't reveal anything. Everything worth covering is covered," she snorted softly and tossed a grin at Shirik. "You are lucky I even have a dress. Two to be precise. Or I'd come in my uniform," she nodded sagely.

Shirik winked at Sorg. "Not everything." She grinned back at Caly. "Even if you didn't have any we could replicate one for you."

"I think I have something in neon purple," Caly smirked at Shirik.

"Please leave me out of this." Jurell sat back with a bemused smile. "Whatever you wear will be perfect I'm sure," he said to Calyca. To Shirik he said, "Don't worry about beating anyone away with a stick. Saavar has the strength of at least three men - he is Vulcan. I doubt that he'd let you get mobbed, and if there is a mob we'll just call Ops for backup."

Solomon Rush and Marion Herald both grinned and chimed in as a chorus as Sorg said, "Coz we all know: Ops looks after its own." There was general laughter by the security detail, and even Caly joined in with a wink at Shirik. D'Naal looked as if she'd swallowed something bitter. The Vulcan woman gave Shirik a disdainful look as if she was an enemy in the midst of security.

"You should never tell me that, Jurell," Caly teased him. "Hard telling what I'll wind up in."

Shirik rolled her eyes. She met the Vulcan's gaze with a challenging look, just daring her to say anything.

D'Naal simply looked away totally expressionless again.

"I don't care - it'll still be perfect." He remained gallant and gave her a smile and a friendly wink.

"I think you took diplomatic lessons from my mother," Caly grinned at him. "You did, didn't you?" she accused teasingly.

Kaven Lucas leaned in close to Shirik. He whispered so that no one else could hear. "D'Naal was phasered three times by Farrell in Ops. He shot her before she could do anything to stop a mob. She's a little bit sensitive about it. I'd tell Farrell to stay clear of her if I were you...just so you look after yer own...not that anyone in security does any looking after...." He smiled grimly. "Perhaps you might remind him that we usually die protecting ops people too - and we don't have any mottos that segregate us from the rest of you." He eyed her seriously. "Just advice, from one concerned crewmember to another...okay?"

She glanced over at Shirik and Kaven, watching the chummy looking pair and smiling softly as she did. Wasn't he the one who called her 'darlin'? Hmmmm....

Shirik's face registered understanding and she nodded. "Not all of us are like Farrell," she whispered back, offering him a small smile.

He nodded once and his smile was more genuine. "Yeah I know that, sweetie...sir, but the word going around isn't good. It needs to be nipped in the bud in ops before it gets outta hand. Take care of yer own, before someone takes care of it for you. Not everybody likes hearing bad things about the captain. It pisses me off."

Shirik raised an eyebrow at that, but decided to let the topic drop for now. She simply nodded.

Kaven turned away, nodding, sharing a sentiment that most of the security officers in the department shared. Nobody disses the captain - it's just one of those rules. One you just don't break. Or else the world crumbles. Doubt sets in. Somebody fails to follow an order..."

"And 'sweetie'..." Caly's smile widened into a grin and she turned her gaze back to Jurell. "Do you all do this often?"

"Every morning," Jurell replied with a grin. "You're most welcome to join us." He looked into her eyes.

"Hmmm...." Caly smiled at him and after a moment, pulled her eyes from his to travel around the table in thoughtful contemplation. "I think I might like that," she admitted softly and her eyes settled on Shirik for a moment before turning back to Jurell. "It's a nice way to start the day, isn't it?"

"Sure is. The crowd changes a bit," he motioned to Hansen, "she's not usually here. Mostly it's non-coms."

"Speaking of which, we have to get going soon," Shirik reminded them all. She raised her mug to her lips to finish off her coffee. "And I have a meeting this morning..." She frowned. She wasn't looking forward to that meeting.

Jurell nodded. "Been a real pleasure, Caly." He extended his hand over the table.

"It has," Caly admitted and took his hand. Her handshake was firm and warm. "Thank you all for letting me join in," she smiled.

"I'll meet you after shift for our run," Shirik reminded Caly as she got to her feet.

"See you later," he smiled. "Enjoy your run."

"Roger." She grinned at Shirik and gave her a thumbs up. "You're welcome to join us if you want, Jurell," she offered as she shouldered her pack and started to head out.

"Love to, but I'm busy." He smiled. "I have a few things to take care of." He shrugged. "Maybe next time."

Caly nodded and smiled. "That's fine. Later, Jurell." She waved and waited a moment to see if Shirik was going to walk with her before heading to Engineering.

"I'll meet you in the core." Shirik smiled to Sorg. "Later, everyone." She nodded at the others, then moved off to join Caly.

Sorg Jurell watched them go and grinned.

"You went on a date with the Princess, right?" Marion asked leaning over the table.

Sorg nodded.

"And you just got a date with the red head?" Solomon grinned.

"I think so...." Sorg shrugged.

Solomon clapped him on the shoulder. "The Iceman cometh."

"Damn she's cute." Kaven watched Shirik's ass disappear into the distance.

---

"Lions, and Tigers, and a Date... Oh My!"
By: CPO Calyca Boothroyd, Engineering
Crewman Sorg Jurell, Security

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.27, 10h00

***

Calyca was laying on her back in a Jefferies tube, running a diagnostic check on one of the EPS conduits for the Aft Shield Array. She'd been working steadily since breakfast and hadn't given much thought to the upcoming party after finding someone to take her shift so she could go like she promised Shirik she would.

Breakfast had been an interesting time, congenial and fun. It was a nice way to start the day she decided, and her mind naturally ran back through the conversations. She couldn't help laughing at a few of them and couldn't help wondering if Hansen was going to seriously put the moves on Shirik, which would be an interesting twist to the relationship problems she seemed to be having at the moment. She popped her gum and checked her tricorder readout, satisfied with what she saw and continuing with the next diagnostic in line.

She hadn't planned on going to the party. Didn't even want to, really. She'd gotten her fill of parties and functions growing up, and they usually just took her away from something she'd rather be doing. Those thoughts brought her to Jurell and she smiled. She liked him and honestly thought he could be good for Shirik, although she doubted if anything would come of it, no matter how he felt about her. And then the thought finally struck her. Had he asked her out on a date? An actual 'date'? "Well damn," she muttered and popped her gum as she activated her comm unit.

"Boothroyd to Jurell. You there?"

"Please identify your communications recipient," the computer replied.

Caly snorted and popped her gum again. "I need to get Shiri to program you a sense of humor and a little less anal-ness," she commented. "Chief Boothroyd to Crewman Sorg. Better?"

The chip signalled the comlink had established. "Sorg here."

"It's Booter. You got a minute?" she asked as she continued to work.

"Hey, yes." The smile was definitely in his voice. "Of course I have a minute. What's on your mind?"

"Well... I know this is probably going to sound strange," she started. She wasn't smiling exactly, because she was trying to figure out a diplomatic way of asking him. "And if I say anything really dumb, or insensitive, I apologize ahead of time and just want you to know I didn't mean it. Alright?"

He laughed, the clear sound of his laughter echoed in the Jeffries Tube. "Okay - I won't take any offense. What's on your mind?"

Caly couldn't help but smile at his laughter. She really did like hearing people laugh. "Great! Oh.... And keep in mind that I really suck at this shit, okay?" she asked and lightly popped her gum. She didn't wait for him to answer before plowing right on ahead. "Did you ask me on a date?" She emphasized the word. "I'm kind of slow picking up things like that. Ah hell, usually I miss it totally, but I was laying here and it struck me that you might have and I just thought I better ask," she continued. "Am I rambling? I tend to do that sometimes if I'm a bit nervous and I honestly won't take offense if you tell me to shut up," she rambled.

His laughter started again, but this time he sounded quieter. "Yeah, Caly," he eventually admitted. "I asked you on a date," he emphasised. "But if you don't want to...I understand."

There was a moment of dead silence. One of those pregnant moments that seem to stretch out forever but in reality they're really only a couple heartbeats long. She finally let out an audible breath and he could hear the smile in her voice when she spoke. "Well then... Thank you, Jurell. Never said I didn't want to. Next time, could you poke me or something?" she asked. "Well, assuming there is a next time, which is usually doubtful. Actually, come to think of it a first time is pretty unusual. You're alright, aren't you?" she asked after a moment's thought. "I tend to be rather frank," she warned. "And I can be really abrasive sometimes. And I have a rather warped sense of humor." She was rambling again. "And I forget time, get totally caught up in my work, forget to eat, a real date, huh? Do I have to wear makeup?"

"I think you're pretty enough without it," he smiled and chuckled. "And if breakfast is any indication...I think there'll be plenty of next times...and I prefer frank, it's honest. Honestly, I doubt if you could ever be as abrasive as Shirik, and as I can handle her - you'll be fine." He went silent for a moment. "You know how I feel about her, don't you. I don't want to be unfair - but I like you, and Prophets know, there's never going to be anything between the Princess and I."

"You did take lessons from my mother," she accused again, much as she had at breakfast. "I'm abrasive in a different way than Shiri," she grinned and softly popped her gum. "Yeah, I know how you feel. But like I told her... Anything's possible. Oh, did I warn you I was an eternal optimist?"

"I'm not," he laughed. "I'm a glass is half empty kinda guy. I'm facing reality, Caly. Shirik is hooked on someone, and she's intimate with another - and neither of them is me. So - I'm going to forget all about Shirik. I can't afford to get involved in someone that doesn't love me back - or can't love me back. I like you...that's a start."

"Careful now, or you're going to have me thinking like a female," she warned with a soft laugh. "She'll get over the one she's hooked on. Just might take her a wee bit. She's pretty stubborn. As for the intimate.... I haven't met him yet and really don't have a handle on that situation. But it wouldn't surprise me if it didn't go anywhere. Then again, it wouldn't surprise me if it did. You're probably right to move on," she finally agreed with a soft pop of her gum and a muttered "ow" as she absently tried to sit up after she closed the conduit panel and prepared to move to the next. "On the other hand, you might consider toughing it out," she added. "I like you too, Jurell. Shiri was right. You are a good guy."

There was silence again for a few heartbeats. "I can't tough it out, Caly. She's beautiful, and I enjoy her company, but she's just not right for me...that's the truth."

Caly quirked an ear towards that silence until he broke it. "Ahhh. Well then, probably best to cut your losses and move on," she agreed as she shouldered her pack and started moving down the Jefferies tube. "She is beautiful, and good company, you're right about that. Too bad I don't swing that way," she grinned and popped her gum.

"Thank the Prophets." He laughed. "I'd have no chance!"

"That reminds me," she grinned. "I got someone to cover my shift. Or did I tell you that already?"

"I think you said that," he laughed. "So...we still on a date?"

"Hmmm... You know I don't usually do dates, right?" she asked and then answered before he could say anything, her voice softening a bit as she did. "Yeah. A date. First time for everything, right?"

"Well okay then. I'll pick you up at your place...say twenty hundred?" His voice sounded softer, but it still held a hint of laughter in it.

"Twenty hundred. Right, got it." She nodded and rolled over onto her back, grunting softly as she opened up the next conduit in line. "Oh... Better remind me just to be safe, okay? Nineteen thirty? That's enough time, right?"

"I think I'll call Shirik, she'll make sure you're ready in time...or you could order the ship's computer to remind you...but I'll call at nineteen hundred."

"Oh right. I'll do that," she agreed. "But, uh... Yeah, better call, just in case. Oh, and Shiri's a good call. She's worse than my mother," she grinned and her tone was definitely affectionate and teasing.

"I'll see you then...then." He laughed. "I'm glad we could have this little talk. Thanks, Caly. I'll look forward to tonight. Oh...and I definitely get the first dance...okay?"

"I'm glad we did too," she grinned at his laughter. "I'm looking for-- Oh wait. Dancing...." There was a slight pause and then, "Oh, right. I can do that, no problem. They don't become outdated or anything like that, do they?" she asked.

"Retro is always in fashion," he replied. "Besides, all you really need to do is hang on." He laughed.

'Retro?' Caly mouthed the word and blinked. Hoh-boy. "Right," she grinned and popped her gum. "Hanging on, now that I can do. Fingers of steel, yanno."

"Yeah...that'll do." He grinned to himself, and unseen by Calyca he shook his head. "I'll see you tonight."

"Twenty hundred," she agreed, nodding. "Don't forget my reminder," she laughed softly. "Booter out."

A date... Hoh-boy.

In his quarters Sorg Jurell laughed softly to himself. Damn she made him laugh...he needed that. He walked through to the fresher to start getting ready for the award ceremony. In the mirror his smile was firmly in place, it was a grin, a Cheshire Cat grin. He chuckled. Damn he felt good.

---

"Forced Apologies"
By: Lieutenant Commander T'Kal
Lieutenant Tagliesh

Location: Chief of Security's Office, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.27, 10h15

***

Her lips were set into a permanent pout and arms were stubbornly crossed; she'd made a promise to do this, but it didn't mean she had to like it, and she didn't. It was hardly her fault most of the officers aboard the Sulu were excessively sensitive and couldn't appreciate her caustic wit. Her sense of humour had served her well in the past, even if much of the time the joke was at the expense of another.

But in this instance, it was simply a grave misunderstanding. Who knew announcing one's engagement was such a blunder? And how long was it to be a secret? Until Lyrr was wandering the ship, attempting to conceal her distended abdomen with an overly large jacket?

Snorting, she rolled her eyes and veered around the corner at a petulant pace. She wondered when the dear commander would grow up. But, she would refrain from saying that to Lieutenant Commander T'Kal; the point of an apology was not to create more to seek forgiveness for.

It was a first, but she would simply have to avoid shooting her mouth off. The task was going to be a difficult one. Digging her heels into the deck to halt herself, while the rest of her wished to continue walking, she exhaled deeply. "The things one does for love," she muttered, and stalked towards the chief's office.

Any greetings offered by personnel in the corridor were ignored or brushed off. It was only when she covered half the distance to T'Kal's office that she remembered her vow to Matt: to stop being such an unpleasant bitch and at least smile once in a while. Chiding herself, she made a conscious effort to do so, though when the next officer passed, her cheerful smile formed something nearly akin to bared teeth. She would have to start practicing in the mirror, just as she did in front of Commander T'Kal's door when she reached it, while reciting the apology she'd scripted in her mind.

"Come." T'Kal's voice sounded distracted. When the door opened he was still reading his terminal with a slight frown. The footsteps into his office brought his head around and he was surprised to see Xayella Tagliesh. More surprising for her was the broad grin Benedict bestowed upon her. He didn't look displeased to see her at all. "Morning," he nodded amiably as he came to his feet. He waved her to the chair opposite. "What can I do for you, Lieutenant?" His violet eyes were direct and there was a distinct amusement there, and a relaxed good humor.

"Well...for starters, you can give a girl a compliment, Commander. You know, 'You're looking flawless this morning, Lieutenant.' " She grinned. "That sort of thing." Xayella folded herself into the chair, bare legs crossing at the knee and elbow resting atop the chairback. With her free hand, she languidly gestured at him. "Go on. If you do, I'll tell you how you're absolutely cheerful-looking this fine day...which is surprising considering what happened at the game last night."

"Giving girls compliments gets me in trouble," he smiled. "Hell, smiling at one gets me in trouble." He sat and leaned back. "I'm sorry about the outburst last night." He looked serious for a moment, although his good humor didn't change. "Tayla shouldn't have reacted like that, and neither should I. If we ruined your evening I apologise."

"You apologize?" Xay raised an eyebrow. This was interesting. "Well...seems you beat me to it, Commander. I promised Matt I'd come here to apologize for creating conflict between you and Commander Lyrr last night." She grinned slowly. "So...is the wedding off, then?"

Benedict nodded, as she explained the reason why she'd come to see him, but at her last question he laughed softly and shook his head. "No...it's not off. It wasn't really your fault about the conflict between us. I got upset at what she'd said, but I also misunderstood what she was saying. I took it entirely the wrong way." He looked at Tagliesh seriously. "We did have a fight. But we made up." He finished with a grin.

Intrigued by that roguish smile, Xayella leaned forward, chuckling. "Oh? I didn't think you and the commander did 'make up.' " Her wink was suggestive.

He blushed, cleared his throat and said, "So...seeing as we're both in a good mood this morning, how about we try to make it last." His direct gaze was more like a challenge, but his lips were still smiling. "We're both in very similar positions, and you know what I mean. I think that it would be in our best interests for us all to get along." He leaned forward, resting both hands on his desk. His violet eyes were friendly, not a hint of their previous hostility toward her present. His voice grew softer. "If we don't get our act together soon, and start being a team rather than at each other's throats all the time, this crew will start doing the same. Everything will fall apart out here. I can see it happening already. It wasn't good for the captain to have to relieve you of your command...that would have been difficult. I don't want to have this continue - for all our sakes. So...can we be friends?"

"Commander," she drawled, "that's a little presumptuous of you, isn't it? Now, you're an almost likeable individual, but don't get it into your head that I wish to fraternize with you on my off-time." Xay sighed, remembering her manners and her promise. "However...I think civility is an option. My behaviour directly affects the captain, and...I don't want him losing this command because his girlfriend can't watch her mouth, and because his senior staff are constantly at odds." Refraining from rolling her eyes, she muttered, "So...truce."

He nodded. "That's a start," he said with a smile. He wondered why she was so stand-offish with everyone. "I didn't presume for us to socialise other than times like last night, which I would suggest we try again at some other time. It's our duty to get along, and you know, I'd rather be relaxed about it. Civility only goes so far. It doesn't build an effective command team. There's nothing wrong with having friends. You never know, Xayella, at some point you might need them. I know I do. So whether you like it or not, I'm going to be a friend from now on. It's up to you how you handle that." His direct gaze offered the challenge.

She snorted - it was an uncontrollable reaction, but she followed it up with, "Won't your wife grow jealous? You know Lyrr Tayla hates me - despises me! And I think we also both know she is one unforgiving--" She caught herself before the derogatory title left her mouth, and instead replaced it with, "woman. But...I wouldn't be opposed to another hockey night...for Matt's sake."

"You know, it might help matters if you don't refer to her as my wife, she's my fiancée, and Tayla doesn't like you because you tend to go out of your way to upset her every chance you get. Like now. I don't think you'd like it if I talked about Matthew Salinger in the same terms you're using with me about Tayla." He kept his voice even and still the smile remained. He realized that Xayella and Tayla were very similar women. Both kept everyone at a distance using a barrier of hostility. It just took perseverance to win them over. He grinned. "I'm not going to go away, Xayella. We're stuck with each other for the next six months at least - and as I intend to try to get on well with Matt too...well, let's see. You never know what might happen."

She sighed, relenting, and gave a half-hearted shrug. "If that's what you want... But don't expect me to feed you hot dogs, too." Grinning slyly, she said, "We'll leave that to your" --she thought of many terms, most offensive to Lyrr's delicate sensitivities, and by extension T'Kal's-- "darling," she settled on.

"Hell, I once showed Lieutenant Scott how to eat with chop-sticks and Tayla still hasn't forgotten." He laughed. "Thank you, Xayella," he said seriously. "The one person that would suffer most from all this is Matt Salinger. His command is riding on it. He's not much of a captain if he can't control his senior staff - that's how Starfleet Command will see it, and that's exactly how every member of the Sulu's crew sees it. My duty is to protect him - and I will. We are on the same side, Xayella, we owe him that." She could see that he was serious. He was trying to appeal to her loyalty to Salinger as common ground.

"I know," she admitted, all trace of humour forgotten momentarily. "I'm not going to give anyone any valid excuse to complain from henceforth." She rose, confident her apology had been accepted. "Do you think Commander Lyrr is still too enraged to see me?"

He thought about that for a moment. Then smiled. "You might find her in good spirits." His eyes were filled again with amusement. "Keep it simple though."

She nodded conspiratorially and chuckled. "Just an apology...got it." Sauntering towards the door, Xayella spared a glance over her shoulder at T'Kal to add, "And might I say, Commander, you truly are glowing today." And with a wink, she was off.

Benedict sat back with a grin. With his office once again empty he nodded and sighed with a great deal of satisfaction. "That went well," he observed to his desk.

---

"Dismissal"
By: Lt. Cmdr. Benedict T'Kal, Chief of Security
Ensign Shirik Lektar, Operations

Location: Security Office, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.27, 11h00

***

Shirik had not been overly thrilled when the response to her report filed to T'Kal had come back, summoning her to a meeting in his office. She'd hoped not to have to see him again for a while longer. She had gone back on duty that morning, and her uniform felt strange after having been out of it for almost two weeks. She'd meditated in the turbo lift, and spent the entire walk to the office composing her thoughts and carefully filing away any but those related to duty.

Finally she stood before the office door. She took a deep breath and released it, clearing her thoughts one final time, straightening her back, and entered the room.

Benedict looked up and smiled. She was right on time, not a moment sooner. When he'd received her curt message about computer safeguards and the attached encryption algorithms he had almost let it slide, but he knew that if they were to work together at all, he would have to get this meeting over with sooner rather than later. So he'd summoned her to his office.

Now as she stood in his doorway he felt his mouth go dry. She had that same predatory look about her, the lithe grace that exuded confidence and was totally in control. Regal. He caught her eyes and that same recognition was there, and he knew that it was unconscious and uncontrolled, but real all the same. He stood, and nodded. "Come in...Ensign." He used her title to keep distance though he'd almost called her by her name. The slight smile on his face was impossible to diminish, for he was glad to see her. "Thank you for coming." It was an unnecessary courtesy, but he owed her that.

She nodded, avoiding eye contact with him as she took a seat. "Commander,." she greeted him, her tone impassive. Just the sound of his voice cut into her, and her jaw tightened imperceptibly as the pain threatened to resurface again. Stubbornly, she forced it back down, forced her thoughts onto the reason she was here. Security protocols. Encryption algorithms. Nothing more.

He remained standing for a moment. "Can I get you anything?" he asked, noting the avoidance of eye contact now. "Klaas perhaps?" He motioned to the replicator.

"No, thank you," she said. She'd already resolved not to drink klaas in public any more, since he and Sorg's comments about her breath after drinking it. She sat stiffly in the chair, and had a PADD in her hands. She'd brought one with her whether it was needed or not, simply to keep her hands occupied, lest they fidget.

He nodded. Without another word he made a mug of coffee and sat behind his desk. He took a sip of the strong brew and set it aside, watching Shirik across the desk. He tried a smile but it held no weight. "You sent me some computer systems algorithms for a new security protocol," he said softly. "I don't really have the expertise to review them properly, though they look impressive enough. I'll make sure Commander Sam reviews them, and on his recommendation, I'll put them into effect."

She nodded, her gaze resting on his coffee cup rather than him. "They are just some preliminary suggestions," she said, "and I'm sure they could be modified and expanded upon. I will be continuing to work on them, and will send any updates as necessary. But I think they will prove more secure than what was in place before, if only by virtue of being new and different."

He nodded. Her voice was distant, and he didn't much like it. But that was the road upon which they both trod now. "Thank you for working on it. I recommended you for a commendation," he smiled. "You deserve one."

"I know, you mentioned it...before." At dinner. Before he got engaged. She couldn't keep it from popping into her head. "If you say so." To her mind she didn't do much of anything to deserve one, but then Starfleet seemed to like handing out awards, like the one she got as a Dominion War veteran, simply for being in Starfleet as the war ended. She did not return his smile, her expression carefully neutral. Her gaze strayed to the hand holding the coffee cup, the fingers wrapped around its handle.

He brought it up to his lips to drink.

Her gaze followed the hand only until it neared his face, then she found something on his desktop to watch instead. She tried very hard not to fidget. She wanted to get the hell out of the office. "If there's nothing else...?" She wasn't even sure why he had called her there to begin with. To say thanks for the code? To let her know she was up for a commendation, which she already knew? Maybe he just wanted to get a look at her, see how she'd react. She didn't dare look him in the eye, she didn't think she could hold her composure if she did. She would not let him see the hurt in her again.

It wasn't like her at all to be so meek. He'd expected a challenging gaze, a headstrong woman who could stare him in the eye and care less. He felt disappointed, though that surprised him. She couldn't even meet his gaze. It was as if it was another person sitting before him. He sighed heavily and nodded. "Dismissed," his tone was almost abrupt. She wasn't as strong as he'd imagined.

The tone was what got to her. Dismissed, like a servant... Her gaze came up then, and locked onto his. The fire in her gut consumed everything else she might have thought or felt at the moment, and was mirrored in her eyes as she rose imperiously to her feet, which also gave her the advantage of looking down on him. "Thank you..." She paused, then added, "..sir." as if it was an afterthought.

He smiled then and held her gaze. "You're very welcome. Ensign."

There was still no returning smile. She had the urge to insult him, but restrained herself. Instead she turned her back on him as if he were no more important than a bug, and strode from the office.

He watched her go. Finally he leaned back and smiled to himself and nodded. She'd get over it. She'd probably end up wanting to stick her kemla in his gut - but she'd get over it.

---

"Making A Plea"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla
Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal

Location: Lyrr's Office, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.27, 11h20

***

Reports were neglected, as was the tea long gone cold atop her desk. The ceremony that evening consumed much of her focus and most of her energy; even now, hunched over the datapad, she was barely able to hold up her head. Lyrr was quickly reminded why she hated parties so fiercely.

Grumbling in agitation, she tossed aside the padd, and as it clattered against the desk's metallic surface, Lyrr ground the heels of both palms into her tired eyes. And It was still only noon.

"Computer, dim lights," she muttered, and sighed as the lighting's intensity weakened. She was again able to open her eyes without strain, and at once they drifted towards the couch in her office, the soft, comfortable, beckoning couch....

As her legs flexed to push her to her feet, the chime sounded its jarring signal. Lyrr grumbled, her intentions to nap thwarted. "Come," she called wearily, and returned to rubbing at her eyes.

"You look tired," Benedict said as he stepped through the door. He gave her a smile. "You've been over doing it again," he chided softly. "Don't worry I won't tell," he said as she looked up at him with narrowed eyes. "I wouldn't expect anything else of you."

"That means I've averted the punishment of being assigned a spy from security to ensure I'm taking it easy?" Lyrr smiled and sank back against her seat.

He dropped into the chair opposite hers and leaned back, one hand straying to the surface of her desk. "How's the party shaping up?"

"I think it's almost there," she answered with a satisfied nod. "It'd better be. We've only a few more hours to go." Lyrr grinned slyly and lightly brushed her fingers over the back of his hand. "Care to be my date?"

He grinned. "Try and stop me." He turned his finger over and enjoyed the softness of her hand against his. "What's the theme going to be? Dress Whites?"

"Of course." There was a detectable frown now. "Better than skirts, though, hm? The ceremony begins at 18h30 in the auditorium," she told him, "then we move to the lounge for drinks and food and music...and that's the point where I beg the Prophets to make it end."

"We'll leave as soon as it's polite to do so." He smiled and squeezed her hand. "You're probably right about the skirt...there's too much competition anyway." His eyes held a hint of mischief. "I actually came to talk business. I'd like your advice on something."

She nodded at once and removed her hand from his to fold both together, in as business-like a fashion as the situation deserved without yet hearing his piece. "Okay," she said, sitting up straight. "What's on your mind?"

"The security incident during the crisis." She knew the one he was talking about. "I've been compiling reports and after-action summaries and it appears more complex than a simple riot to get to life pods. Lieutenant Gui and Crewman D'Naal submitted reports on the incident, and I have other eye-witness accounts. It may be more than likely that the evacuation was actually ordered, and my security staff were a little over-zealous. It appears that Lieutenant Natalia Druschev ordered both Beta and Gamma watch science officers to evacuate while she was securing the labs. Taking into consideration that she was utilizing Alpha watch, that was a reasonable two step evacuation of unnecessary personnel. It seems that communications were down across deck 8 and she passed the word through runners. The officers involved in the 'riot' were mostly science and a few ops personnel. I think my security team hadn't received word and tried to force them back - and in the confusion Ensign Farrell stepped in and solved the crisis with a phaser and stunned everyone - including my security officers."

He sighed and drummed his fingers on the desk. "What we have here is a monumental error in communications. If we follow up with those officers that left their posts in a Red Alert, we'll end up causing more harm than good. Morale is already low, the counselors are attending to the matter with those who were identified, and I have Case attending to the matter of the phaser that Farrell had in his possession. I want to keep it off-the record." He looked into Lyrr's eyes. "If it goes through channels and up to Salinger, he's got to report it to Starfleet Command as a matter of procedure. We'll end up with Captain's Mast hearings for all concerned. I'm willing to consider that in the confusion a valid evacuation order was given by the Acting Chief of Science...and that will go a long way to keeping the heat off the captain. What do you think?"

"I think you want me to participate in a cover-up," she stated disapprovingly. "You want me to let those officers get away without repercussion. Commander, that is hardly the precedent we want to set aboard this ship, and that you could even consider it--" Lyrr held her tongue, keeping the indelicate remark from escaping. She sighed. "I can't believe I'm hearing this...especially from you."

He narrowed his eyes slightly as he asked, "Did you understand the context of the situation? There were no clear lines of communication. The Acting Chief Science Officer gave a valid evacuation order. My security team did not get the word and reacted as if it was a riot. Ensign Farrell shot everyone! I'm not covering up anything, Commander, I'm simply saying that on the surface what looked like a panicked scramble for life pods, most likely was misconstrued by everyone in the confusion. That happens in battle. Mistakes happen. People die. I don't want this to turn a bad situation into a worse one, when we are out here away from the Federation and we have a major morale problem. If we go by the numbers on this - then we will need to clarify other things. Why the captain left his bridge station in a crisis to a junior lieutenant. Why the Chief of Science was stripped of her command and the acting officer wasn't even on board when she was handed the command. Why the XO was absent during Beta shift.... It's a can or worms, Tayla...a nasty one."

"So we simply sweep this under the carpet to protect my reputation and the captain's?" Lyrr shook her head. The situation was all too surreal, especially with T'Kal the one suggesting subterfuge. It would have been more realistic coming from Ensign Farrell. "They were belligerent," she said quietly, "no matter what the circumstances. They panicked and Starfleet officers do not panic, Ben. What happens in the future, when the call isn't made? Will they do the same?"

"Were you there?" he asked. "Did you see what happened?" He sat forward. "I'm telling you, Commander that what was called a 'riot' probably wasn't. I have the after-action reports and I'm telling you that I think my two security officers acted out of inexperience and misunderstood the situation, thus making it worse. The fact that Farrell of all people showed up with a phaser and point blank shot everyone? Would it be more likely that he said it's a riot simply to avoid getting into trouble for using a phaser? There were no communications. Internal sensors were down. There is no proof that it was a riot at all. There was a valid evacuation order given, and that is backed up by a report by counselor Chambers whom Druschev conferred with when she gave the order. There's no sweeping anything under the rug, Tayla - and if you think that's the case - then you follow it up!"

"What else would you have me do!" she snapped. "Close the case here and now? Convince the captain that it no longer requires investigation, without speaking to the officers involved and only to save my reputation and the captain's?" Lyrr exhaled a calming breath and leaned forward to whisper, "Is that what this is about? You trying to protect me? Or do you really believe this was one big misunderstanding?"

He sat back and his face showed complete disapproval for what she'd just said. "If it had been twelve Starfleet Officers losing their minds and panicking at the same time, during a red alert, I would recommend Captain's Mast and a Court Martial for the lot of them!" He slapped his hand on the desk for emphasis. "When you put all of the reports together and you see the big picture you will get a clearer idea of what actually happened." He frowned. "Doesn't it seem unlikely that that many Starfleet Officers just deserted their posts in a crisis and fell into a mob mentality? I've never seen that happen before - even during the war. Not even at Wolf! Starfleet training is better than that! I just can't believe that we have so many deserters. Now a valid evacuation order being turned around by a couple of inexperienced crew...that I do believe. Just ask Lieutenant Commander Sefton - who was turned away herself from a life pod by Crewman Smith! At the point of a phaser no less! No...I think the error lies with my department screwing it up. So I'll take care of it. I will take care of it."

"And the Captain and I shall just sit back and do nothing?" Lyrr inquired dully.

"Is it your job to take over in instances of departmental censure?" he asked her seriously. "Do I get to manage my own people, or are you saying that I won't do the job effectively?"

"Dammit, Ben, don't put words into my mouth!" she exclaimed. "I just think that we need to at least look into the situation ourselves, even if we pursue nothing. Is that not our responsibility?"

He sat back, nodding. "I didn't expect you not to," he said with a half smile. "Sorry, of course you do. I don't expect you to take my word for it."

Lyrr sighed with an admixture of disgust and exasperation at his intolerable sarcasm. "If you can't be serious about this, Commander, then this meeting is over." She said it with a finality that was difficult to miss, and already she'd pivoted in her chair to face her computer. "I want all reports on the matter delivered to me by 13h30 today, Commander."

Benedict raised an eyebrow at her reaction and more gently he said, "Commander, I was serious, I don't expect you to take my word for it. You're the XO - you have to review this. I think it's in your job description." He grinned. "I wasn't being difficult. Sorry if it came out that way. I'll have the reports to you in a few minutes, I've already compiled them." He leaned forward. "Have you eaten anything?"

Lyrr's stiff demeanour relaxed, her tension escaping through a long sigh as she shook her head. "I've been too busy. I'll get around to it." She looked sidelong at him and smiled to relieve any remaining awkwardness. "I promise."

"You need to relax. I'll get Sikara to send you something." He stood and smiled down at her. "After the party I'll give you a massage."

"After the party," Lyrr replied, "I'm going straight to bed." Her smile came more easily now, and she reached out a hand to Ben, who met it halfway. "I'll get something from the replicator, don't worry. If I have to face Sikara now, I'd likely snap at him, too." Guiltily, she added, "Sorry. I was being defensive again. It seems Farrell's been recruiting those in his department to spread word of dissatisfaction with the performance of this ship's command staff and it has me rankled."

"Ahhh...yes." He nodded. "I heard similar rumblings. It seems that if we aren't on the Bridge we're not doing our jobs...even if the Bridge systems are useless at the time, and the job requires direct access to the Computer Core...." He squeezed her hand. "Don't put much effort into Farrell. The Ensign isn't worth it."

Lyrr grudgingly nodded, but she still felt little comfort. "I'll look out for your reports," she said, diverting the subject back to duty. "I'll let you know my decision once it's reached."

"Fair enough." He let her hand go. "I'll see you later, Commander." He nodded, taking her words as a dismissal.

She watched him go as abruptly as he had come and chuckled wryly to herself. "Well...so much for that nap," Lyrr muttered and turned back to her computer, awaiting the reports that would likely consume most of her afternoon.

---

"Speech"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla
Lieutenant Commander Jabari Zareb
and Lieutenant Mark Thaine

Location: Main Engineering; Auditorium, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.27, 11h35

***

Successful at long last, the warp core thrummed with life once more.

A few cheers, and then a spontaneous round of applause filled Main Engineering with noise; engineers clapped each other on the back and congratulated each other on a job well done. Even the gruff Chief Engineer of the Sulu gave a small smile and commented on his relief they'd got it all running again.

As Thaine returned to his office, to retrieve his duty jacket from where he'd left it, hung over the back of his chair, he tapped his comm-badge, opening a channel to the First Officer of the vessel. "Thaine to Lyrr." One arm went in his jacket.

"Lyrr here," was the reply. "Go ahead, Lieutenant."

Realising he'd got the wrong arm in the sleeve, he struggled out of his jacket, and tried again as he talked. "We've got the warp core back online, so I guess that's that. All the major repairs are finished, and we can get underway any time the Captain wants." Duty jacket finally on successfully, Thaine rubbed his chin, and realised, as per usual, he'd forgotten to shave that morning.

"Good work," she commended. "I'll tell him. And now that you're free.... We have ceremony preparations to discuss. I enlisted the help of Ensign Farrell and his department for some of the minor details - food, decorations - but you and I need to go through the finer points...such as your speech." By the teasing aspect of her voice, it was clear Lyrr was grinning.

"Speech? You're kidding, right? I figured the last thing you'd want me doing is talking about Zareb loudly and in public." There was an mocking aspect about Thaine's voice too, as he sat himself on the edge of his desk, finishing off a half-drunk coffee he'd found in the room.

"Talk all you want," Lyrr allowed, "but keep it polite, or at least mask your hatred with sarcasm."

"Hmph," responded Thaine. "Guess I can manage that. Maybe."

Lyrr chuckled. "Good. I'll meet you in the auditorium at 17h00, in your dress whites, if you would, Lieutenant. We'll go through a dry run of the ceremony before it begins, and it'll give me a chance to edit out any offensive remarks from your speech."

"Aye, Commander. See you then. Thaine out." Shaking his head in a mixture of amusement at Lyrr and dismay at having to put on his dress uniform, Thaine left his office to get ready.

***

"I hate this uniform," declared the Chief Engineer to Lyrr, by way of greeting.

Clean shaven, his hair tidy for once, and wearing his dress whites, Mark still somehow managed to maintain the appearance of a man far more at home in a Jefferies tube or reactor port than any sort of formal function.

"Don't worry," Lyrr assured him, chuckling, "I do, too." Her eyes were unmovingly fixed to Thaine's as he drew nearer, and her smile was curious. "Brown," she stated, finally and with a decisive nod.

"What?" said Thaine, looking at Lyrr as if she'd gone mad.

"Your eyes," she clarified, gesturing towards them. "They're usually covered by those unruly bangs of yours, so I had no idea they were brown." Lyrr stared at them for a moment longer, seemingly committing the colour to memory, then smiled and turned away towards the stage.

Thaine raised his eyebrows in puzzlement at the odd exchange, and then shrugged.

"As you can see," she spoke aloud, "the carpet's been laid" --Lyrr gestured to the red swath of fabric running a line from the doorway to the stage-- "and there's the podium. That's where you'll be giving your speech."

"Stop me if I get too excited about all this," Thaine said, in a perfectly serious tone.

"Oh, believe me, Lieutenant, I will. We can't have you expressing false sentiment during such an solemn occasion." She stopped alongside the stairway leading to the stage, both hands - one holding a datapad - at her waist. "Go on. The stage is yours...after the Captain's opening speech, of course and the promotions section of the ceremony. Zareb's award will be last, which means you'll have plenty of time to grumble and fidget in your seat before you're up."

"You've really planned this all out, haven't you?" It was more good humoured statement than a sullen question.

"We can do it your way if you've got a better idea," she offered with a teasing smile.

"Alright," the engineer said, looking very out of place on the stage, standing behind the podium. From his pocket, he pulled out a small data PADD, which held his notes. "What's a good start then?" he asked. "I've got 'ladies and gentlemen' here...always a classic."

"I think," Lyrr replied, thoughtfully making her way onto the stage, "the key is to be yourself...excluding any vulgar, offensive remarks, of course." Standing beside him now and glancing over the contents of his datapad, she added, "No...how about you just jump right into it? Something humourous like...." Lyrr reached past Thaine and began amending his introduction directly onto the padd. She ended with a decisive tap. "...that," she finished.

Thaine read it, looked at Lyrr, and then looked back. "Alright," he said slowly. "This award goes to an engineer so talented he can re-align a power coupling conduit, re-buffer the plasma injectors...and all before he's had his morning coffee." He paused. "Are you sure about this?"

Lyrr chuckled, and admitted, "No. I've never been great at humour or speeches myself." She gazed up at him uncertainly. "Not good?"

"Well...I don't know." He rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. "What about: 'This award is given the name of Cochrane, a name all of us here know, to demonstrate the high standards of engineering needed to achieve this award.' "

Pausing to think, the engineer looked down at his PADD, and then continued. " 'In 2063, Cochrane changed space travel forever. Now, in 2379 we're here to honour a man whose work has continued that advancement of space travel and exploration...' "

Glancing toward Lyrr, awkwardly, he shrugged. "Any good?"

Lyrr smiled and companionably patted Thaine on the back. "You know...I think you like Zareb better than you're willing to admit."

"I don't like him," said Thaine, bluntly. "Or the way he thinks he's better than everyone else, just 'cos he's come from Starfleet HQ to test out his new gadgets. But just 'cos I don't like him, doesn't mean he's not a good engineer." Then, after another moment's thought, and so as to not surrender all pride, " 'Course, it's not as if he's the only engineer who could have come up with those new designs."

"Oh, of course," Lyrr played along, smiling conspiratorially at the man. "Perhaps in time, he can repay you the favour by giving you a speech for your award ceremony when next the Cochrane medal is awarded to you." Offering him a teasing wink, Lyrr stepped away, descended the staircase, and stood before the stage with hands clasped behind her back. "Okay, Lieutenant," she called up to him, "let's hear the rest of it."

The rest of the speech continued in much the same style: short and to the point. Lyrr suggested a number of changes, most of which were to do with delivery style and public speaking, and Thaine took almost all onboard whole-heartedly. By the time they had finished, they had something that, as Thaine said, "Might be just about passable."

"You think this'll help with crew morale, then?" he asked the Commander, sitting down on the end of the stage, legs hanging down beneath.

"If there's truly a problem with morale," she answered, "then hopefully it will." Lyrr, leaning her hip against the stage, studied the tops of her boots in reflection. "Mr. Thaine?" she asked. "Do you trust me?"

Thaine regarded her curiously, but obviously was puzzled by the question. "Y'know those three pips on your collar?" he began. "That means I really should. Doesn't always mean it, of course. But so far, you've seemed pretty decent. So yeah...I guess I do."

Lyrr chuckled dryly. "Very comforting, Mr. Thaine. Now, shall we have one final read-through? And this time," she advised, "try not to grit your teeth so much."

Thaine sighed, stood up and wandered back over to the podium. "Alright. Last time." He cleared his throat. "This award has been given the name of Cochrane..."

***

"...and so, I present the Cochrane Medal of Excellence to Commander Jabari Zareb." The audience's applause filled the auditorium as Thaine shook Zareb's hand, and handed him the award in its attractive presentation case. Mark didn't smile as he did it, but he did look him in the eye and yield a nod of respect to the fellow engineer.

"Thank you, Mister Thaine." Zareb offered, nearly unheard in the din of the auditorium. As the Sulu's Chief Engineer stepped away, Zareb held up the award and said something about 'not bad for a boy who never even heard of a warp reactor until he was fifteen.' The out-of-character folksy comment drew a general laugh and renewed the dying applause.

Thaine descended down from the stage, looking rather relieved the ordeal was over, and sank back down into his seat next to Lyrr.

Her expression was neutral, though her eyes were twinkling with a suppressed grin. Before the applause waned and before Zareb could begin his acceptance speech, Lyrr nodded thoughtfully and quipped, "I could just barely hear you grinding your teeth. Good job, Lieutenant."

"Hmph," responded Thaine, non verbally. "Just don't make me do that again."

"Thank you," Zareb said again once the applause had fallen a bit. "I have to say that this was somewhat unexpected...although my nomination was pending for these last two months, I doubted my chances. My specialty area is hull and structure and I'm not a research warp engineer." Zareb paused to let that sink into the assembled crowd. "However, it is somewhat comforting to see that the SCE does recognize sound warp theory in spite of its origins." Zareb's chest puffed ever so slightly. "So I can say it was somewhat unexpected...but not particularly surprising."

From their respective seats, both Lyrr and Thaine arched eyebrows at the immodest statement and shared small smiles as they settled in for more of the same.

---

"Mutual Friend"
By: Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal - Chief of Security
Chief Petty Officer Calyca Boothroyd - Engineers' Mate

Location: Main Engineering, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.27, 12h09

***

Benedict wandered into Main Engineering during a shift break. He cast his eyes about, and saw several engineers looking busy. He walked in with a slight smile on his face, and didn't know who to approach. A cute red headed engineer happened to glance his way and he nodded, looking a little lost.

Caly looked up in time to see the Head of Security wander into Main Engineering. She recognized him from Sickbay when she'd seen him exiting Shirik's room and she watched quietly as he looked around and smiled a little when he nodded at her. She had mixed feelings about him, but was keeping an open mind for now. "Can I help you, Commander? You look a wee bit lost."

Benedict grinned and nodded. "I need a bit of assistance," he said easily, "but I don't want to interrupt important work. It's a personal matter." He looked slightly embarrassed. "I need to get something fixed."

Caly wiped her hands on a rag she pulled from her back pocket. "I have a break coming, sir. I could take a look at it for you if you'd like," she offered. She didn't even attempt to clean the smudges from her face and seemed unconcerned that she might even have any. Ignorance is bliss. Not that she didn't take pride in her appearance. She was always neat and tidy... Except when she was working and then she tended to be... Smudged a bit. The smile she gave him was an effort to alleviate his slight embarrassment. "It wouldn't be any trouble."

"You sure?" he asked and she readily nodded. The smile made him feel better about asking and he reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out the long strand of metal chain that was cut neatly in half. "I need this repaired." He showed it to her, the Betrothal Bracelet was three interlinked chains of metal: gold, silver and platinum in the design of vines and leaves. Tiny red gems dotted the bracelet - Bajoran Fire Stones. "It's very old, can you fix it so that you can't tell it was cut?"

"Positive, sir," she smiled again. Small hands reached out to take the bracelet and she looked at it more closely. "I think so," she told him as she studied the ends. "How'd it happen? If I might ask...." She glanced up at him and motioned towards her work area, leading the way there and setting the bracelet on the counter while she got a set of small annealing tools out.

"I cut it," Benedict said. "It was an accident." His tone said that there would be no further explanation, but he smiled to take the edge of it. "It was a vibro-blade, so the edges are sharp." He still sounded worried about the damage.

Caly was pretty quick as a general rule. She glanced up at him again, picking up on his tone immediately. "I see." She nodded and smiled back. She wouldn't ask any more questions. At least not about what had happened. "Aye sir, that they are," she agreed with him. "It's a very beautiful piece," she complimented as she pulled out one of the tools and began the delicate repair. "Very unique," she added and lightly popped her gum as she worked.

"Yes," he agreed softly. "It belonged to my mother. It's been passed down through fifteen generations of my family so it's precious to me. It's my Betrothal Bracelet. If you can repair it, I'll owe you one." He frowned. "I didn't ask your name, I'm sorry..."

"Calyca, sir. Calyca Boothroyd," she supplied, without looking up at him, green eyes remaining steadily on her work. "Are congratulations in order, sir?" she asked, even though she knew they were. One strand was now repaired and she studied it closely for any flaws or sign of the weld. She looked up at him then, once she was satisfied with her work, her eyes studying him curiously.

He grinned. "I guess so, Calyca, but it's not very common knowledge, so I'd appreciate you keeping it to yourself. Commander Lyrr is a little sensitive about it and we haven't made it public." He saw no harm in telling the engineer, besides the fact that he was bursting with it anyway. Anyone who saw the bracelet on Tayla's wrist would know anyway, and she'd worn it openly for two days.

Caly laughed softly then and nodded. "Then congratulations, sir. But I fear you're probably not going to be able to keep it secret for long." She grinned at him and set to work on the next strand. "Would it be out of line to ask why the Commander is sensitive about it?" she asked curiously, eyes once again not lifting from her work.

"Yes it would," Benedict grinned. "But you're right. I don't expect it to be a secret for long. Not when she wears it. Not that I'm particularly good at keeping it." He grinned.

Caly laughed again, her eyes staying on her work. "It's the sort of news that begs to be shared, sir," she agreed with a soft pop of her gum. "The curse of people in love." She looked up at him then, smiling a little. "They need to share it with everyone." Her worry for Shirik was growing deeper with each passing moment. Commander T'Kal's happiness was clearly written on his face and ringing in the tone of his voice and sparkle of his eyes. "Two down..." she murmured as she examined the second strand, once again looking for any flaws or signs of the repair.

He nodded as she resumed her work. "Acute observation," he smiled. "Very true."

"Mmm..." She began work on the third strand and couldn't help but wonder if Commander Lyrr had that same look and air about her, and that same need to share. "Love is one of those things that tries to spread and propagate itself. We have a mutual friend, sir," she announced out of the blue, eyes still on her work as she finished the last strand and examined it closely.

"We do?" Benedict raised a brow.

Her delicate looking fingers slid over the bracelet, their sensitivity honed and feeling for any irregularities as she looked up at him. "Aye sir. Ensign Lektar." She held the bracelet up to him. "It will never be the same, but it's as good as new again. No one will ever know it was cut..." She hadn't, and wasn't going to ask how a bracelet like that got accidentally cut. It wasn't her place, and would be clearly overstepping her bounds, despite her friendship with Shirik.

Benedict nodded. "Aye, she's not mentioned you...and I know her fairly well." He didn't doubt her though; she spoke levelly with no hint of deceit. He could pick a lie. The girl didn't lie, and by the looks of her she probably wouldn't ever consider lying, she had that feel about her. Trustworthy. If she said she was a friend of Shirik's then she was. He smiled. "But then she probably hasn't mentioned a lot of things."

He was right in his assessment of her. It never even occurred to her to lie. "She does that a lot," she smiled. "Not mentioning things. We were bunkmates on the Exeter." Her eyes sparkled with a hint of suppressed mirth and everything that was left unsaid in that simple statement.

"Well then...you'd know her better than I," he smiled back. "I'm glad she's got another friend on the Sulu," he said seriously.

Caly sobered at his words and nodded. "Aye, sir. I think she's going to need one," she said candidly and offered him a small smile.

He sighed rather heavily. "So do I, Calyca...so do I."

She watched the Chief of Security for several heartbeats before finally drawing in a soft breath and offering him a smile of encouragement. "Be happy, Commander. You have all that cheer to spread, remember?" It was a gentle tease to help lighten the mood. "It's like an unwritten law somewhere." Her smile widened a bit. "May the Prophets smile on you, Commander. Or is there some traditional Bajoran congratulations that I should have used instead?"

"No...that about covers it." He nodded and gave her a grin. "Thanks. I appreciate your concern." He looked into her green eyes for a moment. "Take care of her will you? The heart always does as it will. Sometimes it's a hurtful thing...and I love who I love and that can't be helped for either of us." It was a strangely intimate truth to be telling a stranger, but he could see in her eyes that Calyca Boothroyd already knew the why of it. As he'd already surmised, he felt for some reason he couldn't discern that he could trust her. Perhaps it was instinctive, but she had said much simply in her eyes without need to resort to words. It had been days since he'd seen Shirik. The truth of it was that he missed her company, but he knew that she would avoid him now.

Her eyes were bright and clear if a bit darkened with the concern she felt for her friend. "Aye sir, I will," she assured him. "And I think she knows that. They're not so dissimilar, your hearts. Each loving who they love. She'll be alright." She hoped.

He nodded. "I hope so, Calcya. I'd rather not have lost a friend."

"I don't think you will," she tried to assure him, much as she'd done for Shirik after she'd found out about the engagement.

"I have though," he said candidly, "and that's a sad thing." He held the bracelet and nodded at the engineer. "Thank you, Calcya. I really appreciate your help. With both."

"Maybe just temporarily for the one," she offered and smiled a little. "You're welcome, sir."

He nodded, the concern was clearly in her eyes and he felt a stab of guilt. He pocketed the bracelet and gave her a return smile. There wasn't anything else he could say and so he left Main Engineering to the engineers and headed back to the Bridge.

---

"Recommendation"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla
Captain Matthew Salinger

Location: XO's Office; CO's Office, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.27, 16h20

***

Ben's reports were thorough, and all accounts of the incident on Stardate 57908.20 recorded in full detail. She'd read through the summaries and novella length statements given by the officers involved, following Ben's intensive questioning, and still she had to review them three more times before she could reconcile in her mind what had happened the morning in question. From what she could ascertain, Lieutenant Druschev gave the order to evacuate on Deck 8, after which runners were sent to relay the order due to a deck-wide communications outage. Six officers from Deck 8 were without pods and crawled to the next deck equipped with them - Deck 4.

Lyrr paused to re-examine the details following, still trying to fully come to terms with what had gone wrong. Thus far, it seemed the officers had been acting under direct orders from a senior officer, but the testimonies of the four Operations officers she'd spoken to at Rett's request indicated otherwise. On the surface, it appeared to Lyrr they had been informed of the evacuation call by the runners on Deck 4...but by their own admission and sworn statements, they presumed the six officers they saw scrambling for escape pods were abandoning ship, and they panicked. Lt. Gui could not be faulted for her intervention - she had no knowledge of an evacuation order. Ensign Farrell, as difficult to avoid criticising his actions as it was, appeared to have acted as any officer should have, though Lyrr would likely advise a little more restraint on his part in the future when she spoke to him next - a single burst aimed at a single officer would have sufficed to get his message across.

Those four Ops officers were what concerned Lyrr, and it was their actions that morning on which her recommendation to pursue a court martial would be based. For this, Lyrr set aside all the datapads containing the facts of the investigation, all reports compiled, and pushed out of her chair to stand before her viewport. Reflecting on the stars, she stared into their depths as if they were portals allowing insight into the minds of those four officers. If only she could experience their fear and panic for herself, if she could comprehend their mentality in that moment.... But she couldn't, not entirely. They had believed themselves abandoned by the ship's command staff; they - trained Starfleet officers - had deserted their posts, had struck fellow officers, and dared to think the captain would leave them to die while he enjoyed safety in an escape pod. It was nearly enough to have Lyrr hissing in disgust. Such thoughts alone were mutinous, and their actions were those of deserters.

It would have been easy enough to order a Captain's Mast and subsequent court martial for the four derelicts...but that was before she'd spoken with them, before she'd witnessed the dejection and hopelessness in their eyes, in their very demeanour - long before they'd inspired pity in her. She closed her eyes against the curtain of stars outside and wondered if she could truly make this decision with dispassion and objectivity, considering emotions were so inextricably tied to the events in question.

Sighing, Lyrr retook her seat and paused in her deliberation a moment to ask the hour. The computer responded to inform her there was but 30 minutes remaining before the ceremony rehearsal with Thaine. She would need to make a decision, one that might require leniency she was unaccustomed to practicing. Ben had advised as much, but she was resistant. Now, though, she realized the best interests of the ship might rely on her, for once, displaying an iota of sensitivity and good judgement rather than an impulse to punish any who were less than perfect officers. Ben had, much to her extreme chagrin, pointed out her own failings involving an empty bottle of Yridian brandy. She was hardly in a position to judge them, yet that was precisely her job now.

Ruminating the final analysis, while working at resolving the internal dispute being waged by the opposing aspects of her taxed mind - one seeking justice at all costs, and the other counselling temperance - Lyrr understood a decision would be forthcoming. Though, in whose favour, she knew not.

***

Captain Matthew Salinger stopped the recording, and turned back toward the starscape outside his ready room. How had everything fallen so far apart? How had the crew he'd left Deep Space Nine with become so demoralized?

"Three months is a long time without stepping into a holodeck," he said to himself. Her recommendations were harsh, but probably better than they deserved for their actions. It would be a long trip through the Gamma Quadrant with those restrictions, but perhaps they would learn from the experience.

And, then there was Farrell. Why did Mason Farrell's name have to be linked with every troublesome issue on the ship? Matt sighed. He could only imagine what it must be like for the Ops officer, though he wondered if Farrell had developed his own set of defenses to protect himself from the trouble he found himself in.

"Computer, replay Commander Lyrr's recommendations."

The computer chirped to signal acknowledgement, then Lyrr's voice filled the void of silence. "Crewman D'Naal and Lieutenant Gui, unaware of the evacuation order, acted according to protocol. It is my recommendation that they be excluded from punishment in this instance. As for Ensign Farrell" --there was a sigh, indicating the next words from her mouth were difficult to swallow-- "he, too, acted under the assumption that the officers were unlawfully deserting their posts and the ship. Although his methods were...interesting and perhaps slightly drastic, his ultimate goal was to prevent a breach of conduct."

There came a wordless pause in the recording while Lyrr gave final thought to her decision, alluding to the gravity of what she had concluded. "As for Crewmen Harlan Thomas, N'kruma M'benge, Vietcheslav Jaspovich, and Rhiannon Gregory, it is my opinion that, yes, they are guilty of dereliction of duty, that, yes, they had planned to abandon the ship without receiving an official evacuation order...but after having spoken with these men and woman, I don't believe they are deserving of the requisite Captain's Mast and court martial." She sighed. "They admit freely their actions, Captain, and it is clear they are repentant, but I truly believe they weren't thinking logically when they acted, and tarnishing their records and most probably ending their careers would likely accomplish nothing. That is why it is my recommendation that they be ordered to attend no less than three months of mandatory counselling, formal reprimands for each, loss of replicator and holodeck privileges for no less than three months, during which they will spend their time on Gamma shift."

After another long pause, one during which Matt had previously ended the playback, Lyrr's voice returned. "It is my recommendation, Captain, that the aforementioned decision be suspended in favour of a sentence I believe will benefit the officers in question far more than enforced privation. Instead, Captain, I'm recommending that, yes, they attend mandatory counselling for three months or however long it is necessary, but instead of withholding replicator and holodeck privileges they should instead be ordered to attend a three month long holodeck refresher course in Starfleet protocol and emergency procedures, and I'd like to head those sessions. Their fear management should be covered by the counselling sessions...." Lyrr again sighed and finished, "That is my recommendation, Captain. I hope it will aid you in your decision. End recording."

There was a lengthy period of silence as Matt debated his Number One's words. "Computer," he said, "forward report to Counsellor Scott. Acknowledge Commander Lyrr Tayla's recommendations and approve. Additionally, restrict Ensign Farrell's access to ship weaponry until he completes a holodeck course on the correct use of Starfleet weaponry. Enable Security Protocol 17A-3, regarding use of phasers aboard this starship. No personnel will have access to weapons without security approval, except during times of shipboard boarding actions. Authorization Salinger Theta Delta Sigma. Add copy of message to message buoy for next transmission back through the wormhole."

With a sigh, Matt sent the message. How much more could the ship take? Only time would tell, but hopefully the changes that had been discussed with the senior staff would help to alleviate the problems. If not, it would be a long trip through the Gamma Quadrant.

Matt turned his attention once more to the starscape. "We'll make it," he said softly. "We're still Starfleet."

---

"Lesson Two: Don't Bring Work Home!"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla
Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal

Location: Lyrr and Ben's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.27, 17h50

***

Benedict stepped out of the shower in time to see Lyrr walk through the door into their quarters. He smiled and called out to her, "I'm in here," meaning the fresher. He reached for the shave cloth and wiped it across his unshaven face, scrubbing the unwanted hair away with a few swipes of the specially treated cloth. It made the facial hair brittle and break when it was applied, and Benedict found it far superior to the laser shavers or the blades.

As he applied cologne Lyrr entered the fresher. He stood facing the mirror, a towel around his waist, and he looked into her eyes through the reflected glass. "Hey, how did it go?" She'd just been to the rehearsal with Thaine.

"Long, but I think he's ready," she answered, coming up beside him to open one of the drawers at the sink. Lyrr began rifling through it with her brow creased pensively. "Is your uniform ready?" she asked distractedly, having noticed his state of undress when she walked in.

"Hanging up...all pressed." He turned with a grin and reached for her, the golden tattoo on his back and upper arm and shoulder gleamed. "Everything will be fine," he said comfortingly. "You're the biggest worrier I've ever known." He bent forward to kiss her.

She chuckled and playfully shoved him away as his lips lingered near her cheek. "What does that have to do with anything?" she asked, and resumed burrowing through clutter. "I'm just anxious for this ceremony to proceed smoothly. Everything has to be perfect."

He let her go, giving up. "It will be," he said. "I want you to do something for me later." His tone hinted that he was asking her to do something she may not want to do.

She paused, her hands still buried in the drawer, and glanced aside. "Okay... What is it?"

"I want you to make a point of getting along with the Captain. Dance with him. You two have to talk, and you have to reach an understanding." He leaned against the sink and crossed his arms, the cords of muscle standing out against his chest. "Use the party tonight to break the ice with him."

"You're actually asking me to dance with another man?" Lyrr laughed and resumed compulsively digging through the drawer. "Fine...I'll dance with him if there is dancing to be had. Though, I don't think that will solve anything. Talking is the only thing that will."

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm asking you to do, and to talk you have to be in the same room and close enough to hear each other. Dancing will give you just enough space to open up a dialogue of forgiveness. It's very difficult to be mad at anyone when you're in their arms." He brushed her hair with his hand. "And you, my Love, are irresistible when you want to be."

Lyrr smiled. "Well, I'm not Matt's lover, so I hardly think that will work in the same way with him." Her rummaging stopped momentarily, and when Lyrr looked up, she was frowning, her expression puzzled. "I forgot what I was looking for..." She sounded a touch troubled by the revelation, but was next shrugging it off and pushed the drawer closed. No longer rushing like a madwoman, Lyrr turned aside to watch Ben, admiring the sheen of water still glistening over his broad chest. "Turn around," she told him softly.

He complied with a smile. "You underestimate the power of your smile, Lyrr Tayla. Make an effort with him, Love, you're the only one he can really trust to tell him like it is." That was a rather stark observation. "I wish I knew him better," he added. "Someone needs to let him know what's going on...and to point out a thing or two."

Lyrr retrieved a brush from the sink, and slid up behind Ben to ask, "A thing or two... What exactly are those?" She gathered a handful of his endless train of hair in one palm, and began passing the brush through it, starting from the top.

He smiled as he looked at her reflection in the mirror. She loved playing with his hair, it was something he remembered his father doing for his mother. As she brushed his hair his smile turned tender. Prophets he loved her.... "Giving Tagliesh a commendation for a start," he said quietly. "How he can justify stripping her of her command for the same incident as giving her a commendation is beyond me. I know she made a discovery, but to the crew? They see her being punished with one hand and rewarded with the other. It reeks of favouritism, Tayla. In his position he damned well can't afford that."

"I agree in part," she answered, running the brush through the same thick lock again. "But at least he wasn't so oblivious to the implications of giving her a commendation - he did award several others with the same. I don't believe he's as blind to what his relationship with Tagliesh means, the problems he can encounter because of it.... It's the same with you and I." She sighed as she replaced the comb with her fingers to gently rake through the tail-end of his mane and work out any knots. "He's aware, Ben - trust me, and him. And I'll be there to advise him, so it won't be so bad."

"Arthas was telling me he's been hearing some disturbing things." Ben's eyes caught hers in the mirror. "I trust Arthas, he's got far more command experience than I'll ever get - twice over, at least in memory. There's some ugly grumbling coming out of Operations...and I mean ugly. Apparently there's more than a few ops staff talking quietly about the absence of command. Have you heard anything like that?" he asked. He placed both hands on the edge of the sink while she brushed.

Lyrr was silent, only the soft rasp of bristles running through his depthless hair. She was looking away from his reflected eyes and lowered her head to disappear behind his shoulder. "I spoke to the four crewmen involved in the incident," Lyrr confessed quietly. "They explained things.... They didn't express a distrust in the command staff, Ben. It was fear...but if they feared we'd deserted them, isn't that the same as a lack of trust?" The brush stopped at the base of Ben's shoulder-blades and rested lightly against the tiger's own shoulders. She stared absently at its striated coat casting a distorted reflection onto the brush's enameled handle. "Ben...how can I get officers to trust me if I don't even know how to trust, myself?"

"They were operation staff - the four you spoke to, right?" He waited until her eyes met his in the mirror. "Well, the more I hear the more I'm convinced it's a command problem," he spoke quietly. "Starting from the lowest of the command rank to the highest. Sam...he's an android, and he may well know everything there is to know about being an operations officer, but I don't think he's capable of handling the morale issues associated with emotions. He doesn't inspire his people to work for him, or put their hearts into it for him as a leader. He's just an operator and that's all. So his command structure follows suit, by example, and morale in that department is zero. Then you have people like Farrell. He's a good operator too - he knows all the tricks and all the moves, and he's running around Sam, because Sam doesn't see it. There's a leadership void in Operations, Tayla. Farrell is just a symptom, and I'm beginning to understand why he's a frustrated officer. The man is smart, Tayla, and that kind of smart finds its own things to do when it's not directed properly. So he's mouthing off about an absence of command, and his people, who look up to him because whether you like it or not, he's actually got leadership ability - are saying the same things. It's the truth, Tayla - and I hate to admit the man might be right, but there is a command absence in Operations and it rests with Lieutenant Commander Sam. He's as friendly as a desk padd. His ability to lead is what's at question. It's your job to do something about it. If you don't, as XO, then you lose your ability to command. You're the eyes and ears of Salinger, Tayla, you're supposed to see what's happening and tell him straight. If you don't, no one else will."

"I know," she admitted tightly. "I'll order efficiency reports for each department...and a personal evaluation for the entire senior staff. Hopefully that will be enough to bring any departmental issues to light." Sighing, she passed the brush through his hair one final time, then reached past him to set it down upon the sink. "You should dress," she told him, and leaned forward to kiss his shoulder. "We're going to be late."

"Efficiency reports?" he shook his head in frustration. "Efficiency will be just fine. Efficiency isn't the issue. Sam is Mister Efficiency plus!" He turned around and placed a hand on each of her shoulders. "We know there's a problem. We know what the problem is. Don't get wrapped up in endless bloody reports - because a report isn't worth a damn in the middle of a crisis. We all saw that - and four crewmen in Operations may well suffer for their entire career because we sideline it to an efficiency report. You have the ability to lead, Tayla so bloody lead! Take the matter to Salinger and get something going in Operations. Appoint Farrell as Assistant Chief of Ops and see what he does with it. If he rises to the occasion then we turn a questionable officer into an asset. If he fails, then at least he'll shut the hell up!"

"And what if, in the process, he errs so badly this ship is placed in danger because of it?" she argued. "I'm not taking that chance, not on him, Ben!" Backing away from his hold and sidestepping past T'Kal, Lyrr moved again to the drawer she'd been scrounging through. "And I've already taken care of the four officers," she told him. "I recommended counselling...and a course in protocol. I'll be teaching it." Retrieving the lip balm she'd been endlessly searching for, Lyrr shoved the drawer closed and stepped out briskly.

"Don't walk away from me," he said with an edge to his voice, following her. "There's no way an assistant chief can err that badly. Sam can oversee him more directly, and he can put his leadership skills to good use. The title isn't a major promotion, Tayla - it's a little encouragement. It might do some good, and Prophets knows it can't get worse!"

Lyrr whirled on him. "Is it your official recommendation that Ensign Farrell be promoted to the position of Assistant Operations Manager - ahead of the many other, more qualified personnel, Commander T'Kal?" she snapped.

"Give me another name?" he asked. "Any name." He looked her square in the eyes. "Don't hide behind your rank here, Commander this is a private discussion between you and me, and I'm just giving you suggestions that a security chief wouldn't be able to...okay? It's not unheard of for an ensign to be allotted an assistant role. It's an assistant role for Prophet's sake!"

"But it's Farrell," she shot back. "It's Farrell, and you want him in that position so you can catch him in the act of screwing up and toss him into the brig after he's stripped of his uniform! That is not how I do things, Ben." She paused to moderate her volume, then added, "Now can you please dress so we can go to this party and be done with it?"

His eyes narrowed. "Does it sound like I want to crucify the man? He saved your ass on Bajor, I know that, so don't cloud the issue with accusations of what I might want to do to the man. The problem is a leadership vacuum in Operations. Farrell looks to be the officer - unfortunately - that many are looking up to. They do that for a reason - and maybe putting him where he can earn some real respect, and be personally responsible for leadership functions within ops will solve a few problems that that department has. It's an opinion. If you don't like it that's fine - but don't you dare accuse me of setting him up to fall! If he falls it's because he does it! Not me!"

"Don't yell at me!" she hollered at him fiercely. "If there's a void in Ops, then assigning him as Assistant Chief won't solve anything! If Sam's a problem, and can't perform effectively as a department head, then we'll deal with him!" Lyrr peered up at Ben, and her voice dropped to a near whisper. "Instead of focusing on Ops, why not pay more attention to fixing the problems in your own department? I think that would be a more useful expenditure of your time." Spinning away from him to stalk towards the door, Lyrr called back, "I'm waiting outside. I trust you can dress yourself without my assistance."

"Hey...." He put his hands on his hips in frustration and anger. "That was un-called for! Why does everything have to be a bloody argument with you? Why do you have to resort to those tactics? Is a reasonable discussion beyond you?"

"This isn't a reasonable discussion," she explained to him as she turned in the doorway. "This is you telling me how to do my job. You feel the need to constantly coach me and advise me on every aspect of this ship's inner-workings, and for once I'd just like you to give me options instead of dictating them to me. Can't you do that?"

"I am giving you options," he said more calmly. "It's just that you don't want to hear them. You're argument is BUT it's Farrell. Think about what I said. That's all I'm saying. I don't discard it out of hand." He nodded. "Okay, I'm sorry. If I sounded like I was doing that, I didn't mean it." He sighed. "You know...I think it'll be better for both of us if work discussions are left to your office or mine. From now on I won't bring it up in here. Okay? Please don't walk away angry."

"I'm not angry," she explained softly. "I'm just...frustrated and nervous...." Lyrr sighed and couldn't help the urge to seek his embrace. She was pressed up against him and wrapped in his arms before she truly realized it. "Everything just seems to be going wrong and I feel helpless to fix it," she whispered.

He held on to her and rubbed her back, relieved. "Okay, Love, I'm sorry. I don't mean to add to that." He kissed her cheek. "Everything will be okay. I'm here to support you, remember that." He smiled as he drew her up to look into his eyes. "Before I forget...damn you look hot in that uniform."

Lyrr laughed in disbelief, but played along by sliding her hands over his abdomen. "And I'd say you look appealing in that towel...." Grinning slyly, she tugged it loose and let it fall to the ground. "But," she whispered as her lips brushed his chin, "I prefer you without."

"We are going to be late," he whispered as his hand slid inside her uniform and he drew her against him.

"Not if you'd stop talking," Lyrr murmured against his lips, "and start helping me with this jacket." Her eyes expressed unbridled desire, as did her roaming hands, which produced a deep chuckle from T'Kal. "My apology," she offered innocently, and kissed him fully.

"I told you you should have worn the skirt," he chided as he lifted her jacket from her shoulders, and kissed her neck.

"And I told you," she nearly growled into his ear, "to stop dictating." Then her teeth closed around his lobe. She took the growing pressure against her stomach as a sign of his approval.

He groaned and almost tore the zip on her pants. "Prophets, woman...."

Lyrr grinned as she pulled her head back to regard him. "Begging me to stop?"

But as his strong arms lifted her from the ground and crushed her to his robust torso, she was certain he had instead been pleading for her to continue. So she did. Lyrr Tayla decided, then, that she certainly enjoyed arguing.

---

"Dressing Up"
By: CPO Calyca Boothroyd, Engineering
Ensign Shirik Lektar, Operations

Location: USS Sulu, Boothroyd's quarters
Stardate: 57908.27, 19h30

***

Caly was stretched out on her couch, on her stomach with the dancing robot half disassembled in front of her as she worked on it. Jurell had called her promptly at 19:00 hours, about the same time the computer reminded her to get ready. She just wanted to take a minute and finish this one thing, and then she was going to get ready. She didn't realize that a half hour had passed since Sorg had called.

The chime rang. "Caly, I know you forgot about the party...." Shirik called with a grin in her voice.

"Huh?" Caly blinked and looked up from her work towards the door. "Shiri? Come!" she called out. "I - uh- didn't forget. I've still got plenty of time. An hour even. Jurell just called a few minutes ago..." She carefully set the small robot aside and got to her feet. "Did Jurell call you or something? He said he was going to. You want something to drink?" She lightly scratched her bare stomach as she padded over to the replicator. She was still dressed in the running shorts and a sport tank from their run earlier.

Shirik walked in, took one look at her friend, and laughed. "You came straight back here and started tinkering, didn't you? It's a good thing you have me around to look after you. Go, jump in the 'fresher quick, and we'll work on your hair first."

Caly gave her a LOOK. "Shirik, in case you hadn't noticed, there's nothing to do to my hair," she reminded her friend with a grin as she got a mug of coffee from the replicator.

"That simply shows how little you know about dressing up," she smiled. "We will definitely do something to your hair."

"I had this idea for the robot and my fingers were itching to start on it," she added as if that explained everything. "Did you bring your things? You're getting dressed here, right?" She started for the refresher.

"Scratch them later," she teased. "Yes, I am." She indicated the bundle of sparkly gold material in her arms, which she set down on Caly's bed. On top of the pile were bottles of perfume and makeup, combs and brushes and other odd bits for doing up hair and faces. "Go, go...into the fresher with you, or do I have to climb in there with you?" She winked.

"Hey now... I know how to dress up," she grinned and rubbed her fingers against her hip in and effort to 'scratch' them. "Hah! You'll make Hansen jealous," she smirked and disappeared into the refresher. "You're going to sparkle tonight, aren't you?" she called out, her voice slightly muffled.

She laughed. "Hansen has a long line to stand in." She started sorting through her supplies, and untied the ponytail her hair had been in. "Damn right I am."

"Poor Hansen!" Caly laughed. "I need to decide between the Mother Approved dress and the Hovering Father one." She didn't dawdle in the refresher. She got in, got cleaned up and got out. "The Hovering Father one definitely doesn't have the Mother Stamp of Approval," she added as she stepped out into the living room dressed in a bright red short robe.

"Oh, definitely the not Mother Approved one," she said. She was looking at herself in the mirror as she tried different looks with her hair, wearing nothing at all. "I think I'll just let it hang," she murmured. "I don't have enough time to do anything really fancy with it... Maybe a gold clasp, to go with my gown..." She turned to look over at Caly. "Well, come on over here and let me look at your hair." She waved at her.

"What about some well placed braids?" She watched Shirik mess with her hair for a minute and laughed softly. "The Mother Approved one is very classy and flattering," she defended it. "And it makes a good impression," she had to add.

"Well, I'll have to see it. Bring them both out, let's have a look. She turned to brushing her hair out long and straight, and making sure the ends were even.

"I swear to god, Shiri, I'm the envy of all your admirers," she grinned as she sat down in front of the mirror and let her friend indulge herself with her hair.

"Well, it's not as if Sorg didn't get a look," she grinned. "I hope he savored it, he may not get another one." She took a golden clasp out of her things, and clipped it over her hair right at the back of her neck, after brushing her hair behind her ears, so the pointed tips were visible.

"Did you tell me about that? I don't think you told me about that," she admonished teasingly and got back up to head to the closet. "And I'm sure he did. You should let your ears show." She nodded to Shirik's ears. She dug around in the closet for a few moments and finally pulled two dresses out, one a pale, lace covered champagne and the other a deep midnight blue that shimmered when it moved.

"No, I don't think I did," she mused with a smile. "I am letting my ears show. So the earrings can be seen, of course." She reached into the pile and pulled out one sparkling dangling diamond earring, holding it up to her ear. "See?" She regarded the two dresses. "Which one is which?"

"Hah! I should make you guess," she smirked smugly and nodded towards the earring. "Ooohhh... Nice. I like that. Is Saavar coming here to get you? And tell me about Jurell seeing you naked." She plopped back down in front of the mirror.

"I'm not sure. If he's not here by the time we leave, we'll meet him at the party, I'm sure. Oh! You have to see this!" she grinned wickedly, and set the earring back in the pile, to put out a small sparkling diamond. She turned to face Caly, the diamond placed squarely in the middle of her navel. "What do you think?"

Caly laughed at Shirik's enthusiasm. "Ooohh... That is stunning," she breathed. "Especially against your dark skin. How are you going to keep it there? Gum?" she teased.

Shirik grinned at her friend's reaction. If she thought it was stunning, so should the males they'd be with. "Don't worry, I have ways...

"Oh, Sorg came to get me for breakfast one morning when I was still off duty... Actually, it was the morning after I found out...you know. And he was waiting on the sofa while I got changed, that's all."

"Shocked him with getting naked in front of him, didn't you?" she grinned. "Naughty wench."

"I'm not so sure he was shocked as much as surprised. He said he wanted warning next time." She grinned. "Come on, I'll help you with your hair. We have to get going soon."

---

"New Beginning"
By: CPO Calyca Boothroyd, Engineering
Crewman Sorg Jurell, Security

Location: USS Sulu, Boothroyd's quarters
Stardate: 57908.27, 20h00

***

Caly changed her mind. Or rather decided that she hadn't really decided. So the dress came back off and she stood in her robe, contemplating them as they hung side by side. She was sorely tempted to put on her dress uniform and call it good. She had fidgeted while Shirik brought some semblance of order to her finger-combed hair and even sat fairly still while she put a decorative clip or two into the fiery locks. And she even got rid of her gum and let her friend put a dusting of powder on her face and suffered through a hint of eye shadow. Except for being dressed, she was ready to go. In the end, she finally decided to let Jurell pick the dress. That decision made, she grinned and felt a marked sense of relief.

Her itchy fingers had her looking over at the partially dismantled robot and her body followed her gaze. Soon she was back to tinkering with the thing while she waited.

The chime rang. Sorg Jurell dropped his hand from the actuator and straightened his collar. He'd foregone the black tux. That was too boring, too classical for Calyca. He'd worn it for Shirik because she was a Princess, and more used to formal things. Tonight Jurell wore a burnt orange formal jacket in Bajoran style, zipped up the right side with the lapel crossing his shoulder up to a military collar. His white dress shirt just showed as a pristine ring around his throat and cuffs. The collar was cinched at the throat with an ornate pin that held a thumb sized orange stone that shone faintly as if a streak of fire was within the stone itself. It was a Bajoran Fire stone, and they were quite prized for their rarity.

His right ear was adorned by a Bajoran earring, a formal piece of silver artwork that displayed his family caste and his former military rank within the militia: Major. But that had been a while ago, and a long story. His matching trousers were draped over brushed suede boots that reached to his calf. He was reasonably happy with his attire, he just hoped Caly would be.

He had to press the chime a second time before rummaging sounds emanated from the other side of the door.

"Come, come," she called out, standing up, her fingers still in the robot's body. "I'm almost--" She looked to the door when it opened and blinked at the sight of Jurell. "Wow." What she'd been about to say was lost. "Holy cow.... You look great," she grinned at him, not seemingly worried in the least that she was in a short robe with her hands in the belly of a robot when she was suppose to be dressed and ready to leave. "Oh, not that I didn't expect you to.... But... Wow."

He blushed and looked down at his feet before back up at her. He quirked a brow at her. "You look great too," he said, taking in her long legs and the very short robe. Wow. "I'm not early am I?" he asked, knowing that he was exactly on time.

She looked startled at the question and her green eyes looked up and around as if looking for something. "Uhhh... I don't know," she finally admitted and looked at him a little sheepishly. "Honestly, I was all dressed," she told him, her fingers going back to what they were doing and she nodded towards the dresses hanging side by side. "But then I got undressed because I couldn't decided between the Mother Approved one, and the Hovering Father one. So I finally decided to let you decide."

One was a lace covered light champagne in a classic formal style dress. The lace on the torso and sleeves and the hem fell to mid calf. It was cut to show off her shoulders and upper arms and probably would display a healthy bit of cleavage. The back was a crisscross of straps.

The other was a mid-ankle length midnight blue thin strapped slip dress that was slit up both sides in a diamond pattern that would show skin all the way up to her underarms. The front would reveal a hint of cleavage and the back was bare to the swell of the hips. There was an overdress of tiny beaded fishnet that would hug her throat in a choker style collar. It had long sleeves that ended in points over the backs of the hands and the hem started about ten inches above the slip dress in a dripping staggered icicle style. The length of her spine would be glimpsed through a slit down the back of the fishnet that stretched from the choker collar to the swell of the hips.

"Hmm...Mother Approved, would be the blue one with the fishnet and the no back...right?" He grinned. "I like the champagne colored one," he said, nodding. "I think you would look classy and it compliments what I'm wearing." He looked at her. "Maybe you could wear the other one next time," he said with a smile. He'd never had a woman allow him to decide what she was going to wear before. It made him feel quite strange, in a nice sort of way. The fact that she'd allowed him to choose was remarkable, and found that he appreciated it. The blue one would be sexy as...but the other was perfect for the evening.

Caly finished up with the robot and laughed softly as she turned to regard him. "Nonono. The blue one is the Hovering Father one. The champagne one it is then. Good choice, and thank you for deciding," she grinned and wiped her fingers off on a rag before getting the dress down. "It'll just take me a few minutes to put it on. Help yourself to something to drink," she told him before slipping into the bedroom to get dressed. She liked his choice and he was right, it would compliment what he was wearing. She poked her head out after just a moment though. "Did you say 'next time'?"

He laughed and nodded. "You have two dresses - that's at least two dates...right?" He'd been sure Shirik would have gone for the one showing the most skin.... Damn, he'd chosen the same as she.

"Oh, right. Good point," she grinned at him and disappeared into the bedroom. She wasn't in there above five minutes and he heard her humming quietly while she got dressed, the sound stopping a moment or two before she appeared back out in the living area. She padded barefooted across the floor, her shoes dangling from her fingers. "I think I'm ready," she smiled at him. "I didn't acquire any smudges, did I?" Her free hand smoothed over the drop-waist lace and skirt. The only jewelry she wore was a thin gold anklet and a gold necklace with a teardrop emerald that matched her eyes, and small emerald stud earrings.

He shook his head. The slow smile appeared as her looked her up and down. "You look...beautiful," he said softly. He looked into her deep green eyes. "Definitely."

For all its simplicity, the dress looked rather elegant on her and enhanced her skin tone. Caly carried herself with an unconscious grace and fluidity of movement, and a very light dusting of color graced her cheeks at his compliment. "Thank you. It sounds quite different coming from you than it did my father," she smiled. She looked quite different from the ball cap wearing, gum popping, generally smudged engineer she usually posed as.

He grinned. "Shall we go?" He waved absently at the door. His eyes flicked over her again, coming back to those green eyes. "You'd better put your shoes on." He nodded at the shoes she carried, and down at her ankle where the thin gold chain sparkled. He put his hands behind his back to stop them fidgeting, and it made him stand to his full six feet two inches. He watched her; she was good to watch.

"Oh right. Shoes." She settled them on the floor and slipped her feet into them. "I hate shoes," she confided and smiled up at him, those green eyes of hers drawn to his earring. "Major.... I'd like to hear that story," she told him and her gaze met his.

He reacted with surprise. "You can read Bajoran House markings?"

"My mother," she smiled. "Her career is heading towards the diplomatic corps and she made me learn the insignias of all the different armies as she learned them," she explained.

"Oh." He frowned and considered what she'd said. He nodded and reached up and removed the earring. He slipped it in his pocket giving her a wan smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't think.... It's a long story, and not a very happy one. I shouldn't have worn it." He shook his head slightly. "Let's go," he said more seriously.

Caly blinked and watched him with a frown marring her brow. "Why are you sorry?" The eyes that studied him were confused and a bit worried. "Don't take it off... Please. I won't ask the story if you don't wish me to." She offered him a small smile. "I liked it," she admitted.

"I'll get another one," he said with a smile. "If you recognised it so easily, others will. I'll tell you all about it, some other time, I promise. I honestly didn't think about it. Maybe the Prophets guided my thoughts when I put it on." He stepped closer to her. "It's not a story for a first date, but it's not a scary story, and it won't change how you think of me." He held out a hand to her and his warm smile showed even white teeth. "Come on, I want to show you off."

"I don't think you need to be worried." She looked up at him and smiled back, slipping a warm hand into his. "I look forward to hearing it," she assured him. "Then keep your fingers crossed that I don't step on your toes or fall off my heels," she grinned.

"I can handle it." He smiled and looked down at their hands.

"Oh good. I'm not normally a klutz, but I can be on occasion," she said with a smile.

It had been so simple, casual, but surprising. He'd never have done that before meeting Shirik. He shook his head; she had affected him, it seemed, more profoundly than he imagined. Was this wrong? The way he still felt about Caly's friend made it seem wrong. But he knew without any doubt that nothing would ever come of that feeling for Shirik. He didn't want to hurt Calyca. He made a promise to himself that he wouldn't.

She watched him curiously as he stared at their hands. Hers looked so small as it was literally engulfed by his.

He looked up into her eyes again, and realised that he'd been staring at their hands. Embarrassed again. Her eyes met his when he looked up and she squeezed his fingers encouragingly at his embarrassed look. "Are you going to be alright?" It seemed that both of them were thinking about his feelings for Shirik.

He nodded. "Yeah." He grinned back at her to cover his lapse. He led her toward the door. It swished open and they were walking through the corridors hand in hand, and it felt rather good.

"Good. I hope they have food. I'm starved," she admitted and her fingers unconsciously found their way to entwining with his. "I think I could eat one of Shiri's Gunthars."

"What's a Gunthar?"

---

"Doting Fans"
by Captain Matthew T. Salinger - Commanding Officer
Lieutenant Commander Jabari Zareb - Engineering Consultant
Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh - Chief Science Officer
and Doctor Ilan Potts - Assistant Chief Counselor

Location: USS Sulu, Officer's Lounge
Stardate: 57908.27, 20h30

***

"I already told you," Xayella explained to Matt as he inspected her black cocktail-style dress once more before they reached the lounge, "I hate those dress whites. They take the radiance away from my skin."

"Of course," Matt said, his jaw flexing. He looked down at his own dress whites, then to her, and finally shook his head.

"If you'd prefer," she murmured against his ear, "I'll remove the dress."

"If you happen to have a regulation uniform under there," Matt said, "certainly."

Xay rolled her eyes, both of which came forward once they were within the lounge, and in plain view of all the other officers not wearing regulation whites. She grinned. "Now, what were you saying about that regulation uniform?"

Matt looked at her, clenched his jaw once more, and looked back into the lounge. As they started further in, he wasn't certain if anyone would hear the grinding of his teeth or not.

Xayella was on the brink of confessing that she could, when a humourous, pitiable scene from one corner of the room caught her attention. She snickered and tapped Matt's shoulder to direct him to it. Nearly pressed against the desert table was Lt. Commander Zareb, sporting his newly awarded medal, and appearing nearly fearful of the squat, bulbous-headed creature leaning in to him. From the flapping of his eyelashes, it was apparent the man - Ilan Potts - was fawning over the taller engineer. Xayella choked back a laugh. "Oh dear.... Matt, we really must save him. He looks ready to crash through the table just to get away from him!"

"Come on," Matt said. "Let's go let Dr. Potts moon over your award for a bit."

A few steps towards the two radically different men allowed Potts' nasally voice to reach their ears. "-- course, I never had much use for engineers until I met my second wife." Potts continued to pump Zareb's huge hand in his long fingered one. "She was a warp core specialist on the Potemkin and quite skilled, as it was explained to me. Of course, not even she enjoyed the singular honor you have this evening. It must feel wonderful!"

Zareb smiled politely. "Actually, Doctor Potts --"

"You'll have to be very careful during your tenure here," Potts scolded, still pumping the engineer's hand and shaking a long index finger on the other at him. "Captain Salinger has a wonderful eye for spotting talent. If you continue to impress, he's unlikely to let you leave. Not that that would be such a --"

"I wouldn't dream of attempting to hold an engineer hostage against his will, Dr. Potts," Matt Salinger said with a laugh. "Commander Zareb, congratulations."

"Thank you, Captain," Zareb said, allowing a relieved smile and shaking his hand. "I am beginning to think your ship is my good luck charm."

"Just the ship?" Xayella asked with a playful pout. "Give your fellow officers some credit now, Mr. Zareb." Her mouth was smiling now, resplendently.

Zareb returned the smile, releasing the Captain's hand and shaking hers. "I'm hoping at least one officer proves to be as lucky for the Nightingale." Jabari took in the Tagliesh's outfit. "Not one for tradition, are you, Lieutenant?"

"If I were," she answered, "however would I stand out in a crowd, especially in a sea of dress whites?"

"Absolutely!" Potts enthused brightly to Xayella. "I should say you would stand out in a throng no matter what you wore." Potts stepped over to the Captain and locked the unfortunate man's hand in a sweaty grip. "She's really quite fetching tonight, sir. And an award winner, no less! You must be very proud."

"Yes," Matt said. "Quite proud." He looked at Xay, then smiled. "I know a lot of people aren't happy with my decisions regarding giving her a commendation for her actions on the planet, but I think it was well deserved."

She smiled and leaned into him affectionately.

Potts took in the sight of both of them in one silent fawning moment then exclaimed "Oh!" so loud that they both startled. "We simply must record this for posterity!" Potts exclaimed happily. "Now, where ever is my holoimager?"

"Your office?" Zareb offered hopefully.

Potts pointed two long fingers at him triumphantly. "No," he admitted. "My quarters...but I'm on this deck!" He spun back to the Captain and Tagliesh. "I shall return in a moment...I trust I'll find you both completely adorable?"

Xayella promised with a grave nod of her head.

"I'm certain you will, Doctor," Matt said with a smile, and then he slipped an arm around Xayella's waist. "I'm certain you will."

"Excellent!" Potts announced, surprising them all by reaching out and pinching Tagliesh's cheek so that it flapped a little. "I shall return forthwith!" he said grandly before scurrying towards the door.

Zareb watched him until he disappeared behind moving duranium. "Interesting...Counselor?" he said, turning the statement into the slightest question.

Xayella sighed as she rubbed her abused cheek and nodded, a touch regrettably. "Just look down a little more often, and he's easy enough to avoid."

"Oh, he's not that bad," Matt said with a laugh. "He's overzealous and gets excited over a change in the wind, but despite his eccentricities, he does have some remarkable theories about life and living. And, again despite the eccentricities, he's a very capable counsellor."

"Nonetheless, I shall be happy that you did not insist on a Counselor for the Nightingale," Zareb said, smiling.

Matt laughed. "Well, while I feel someone to watch over the health of the Nightingale crew may be necessary, I don't believe emergency counselling sessions will be required."

"I should hope not," Zareb said, the smile draining off his face. "However, I'm fairly certain one would have been appreciated during our first flight. Though it did gently urge me towards getting the propulsion systems on line ahead of schedule. Death is a remarkable motivator."

"Yes, quite," Matt answered. "I'm hoping that in the next couple weeks or so we can find some other forms of motivation. That last bout will keep me going for quite some time."

"Isn't this motivation enough?" Xay asked, waving to the room of dress-whites. She grinned at Matt and Zareb both. "So...who's going to ask me to dance first?"

"Captain's discretion," Zareb said with a polite smile. "Rank does have its privileges."

Matt grinned at both Zareb and Xayella. "Indeed it does," he said, and extended his hand to Xay. "My love, may I have this dance?"

Xayella accepted without thought, but addressed Zareb a final time before they sought out the dance floor. "If you've got the courage to ask again," she told him, "seek me out later into the party."

"I shall wait patiently, Lieutenant." Zareb stated evenly and a bit formally. "Congratulations on the commendation."

"Nothing, really. I imagine I'll be receiving a reprimand in time to compensate." She smiled charmingly and waved to Zareb as she was led away. From over her shoulder, she shot him a wink that was invitation enough to seek her out for the second dance.

Zareb was still looking at Xayella solemnly when Potts scurried back up, holoimager at the ready. "Now where did they go?" he asked. His eyes darted all over the lounge.

"They're dancing, Doctor Potts," Zareb offered, nodding in their direction.

"Ohhhh," Ilan gushed, lowering the imager to his belly and taking in the scene. "They're quite a handsome couple, aren't they?"

"Yes," Zareb admitted. "Quite."

"I could be interested in the Lieutenant myself," Potts said, looking up at Zareb. "But I suppose it really wouldn't be right of me to come between two people who are so happy...even if I were able."

Zareb looked down at Ilan, catching the twinkle in his eye that said more than his words. "Just because you can do a thing..."

"...does not mean you must," Potts finished. His smile broadened. "Wonderful philosophy, that." He looked back at the Captain and Tagliesh. "Do you know who said it first?"

"It doesn't matter," Zareb shrugged. "It's still a good philosophy." The tall engineer offered his hand to the squat counselor. "Good evening, Doctor."

"Good evening to you," Potts said happily, shaking his hand only briefly. "And congratulations again."

Zareb nodded his head politely and stepped away, leaving Potts free to go back to looking at the Captain and Tagliesh. Both hands gripped the holoimager and he smiled at the scenery.

"Yes," Potts said to himself. "A very handsome couple indeed."

---

"Dress of Gold, Toes of Blue"
By: Lt. Saavar
Ensign Shirik Lektar

Location: Main Lounge, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.27 20h32

***

Shirik had reluctantly left Caly to finish getting ready to go meet with Saavar. It's not that she didn't think Caly could get ready on her own, but she knew how absent-minded Caly could be, and how easily she was distracted by gadgets and robots, like the one sitting in pieces in her living room. She knew how Caly's fingers would itch.

She made her way to the party, casting small smiles at the appreciative looks she got along the way. The ride in the turbolift was the hardest, alone as she was.

Finally she arrived at the lounge, and stepped inside, looking around for her companion.

Saavar stood only within the doors to the lounge. Preferring to stay on the periphery of the throng, he used his waiting time constructively, watching and studying the crew of varied species interact and socialize. Socializing was a primary communications tool for most species, Vulcans not exempt, yet some of the behavioural patterns still amused him. Especially between the sexes. The concept of picking Shirik up at her quarters to escorting her to the party hadn't even occurred to him. Instead he'd left instructions for her to meet him at the venue at the designated time.

He was pleased to see her walk through the door, only a few moments late. He considered that within the bounds of fashionable lateness, a concept that was entirely illogical, but relevant all the same. He stepped away from the bulkhead and gave her a welcoming smile, as she had obviously gone to great lengths to accentuate her physical attributes. It was aesthetically pleasing. In fact it was highly desirable. That concept by itself would be the consideration of several hours of meditation later.

"Shirik," he nodded. The Vulcan was dressed in an aquamarine robe of Vulcan design, with floor length skirt and voluminous sleeves and an over-mantle and winged shoulders with the silver and gold symbols of his culture flowing down the two lapels that reached the floor. The aquamarine set off his grey eyes and turned them a shade bluer.

Shirik greeted him with a warm smile, reaching her hand out to brush his with her fingertips. "Hello, Saavar. Will you join me for my first dance of the evening?"

"Dance?" The slight frown and quizzical expression told her that he hadn't considered that he might have to dance.

"Yes, of course. Dancing is an activity usually performed at social functions. And since you have insisted that I attend this one, I insist that you dance the first dance with me, as my escort." She smiled warmly, her eyes moving over him appreciatively. "And allow me to say that I think you look wonderful."

His eyebrow cocked slightly. "I will allow you to say that," he said straight-faced. "You are similarly desirable." His voice was typically Vulcan dead-pan. "Since you insist then I will accede to your request and dance." He paused for a moment. "I am not proficient. Be warned."

She grinned at him as she took his hand in hers to head for the dance floor. "I'm not worried. It shouldn't be any more difficult for you to acquire that skill from me as it was to learn to speak Drokari."

"Linguistics is my specialty," he pointed out. "However I will endeavour to not make you look too foolish. Perhaps you would care to lead?" As they neared the dancers he used her hand contact to establish mental communication. You may guide me in the steps you take, and I will follow. I warn you again that although I did pass the requisite etiquette and cultural diplomacy courses concerning forms of formal dancing, it was a bare pass. I consider it my only failing. Humans call it two left feet I believe. He gave her a straight-faced glance and looked down. Forgive me for the injuries I am about to inflict, he thought.

She laughed and gave his hand a squeeze. I'll go slow and take it easy on you, I promise, she thought back to him. Regardless of what tune was playing, she guided him into a slow dance, to minimize the potential for injury to them both.

It would be appreciated, he thought back.

They began, and Saavar danced, although he was too stiff, and he did tread on her toes.

Just relax, she murmured encouragingly. You're doing fine. She pretended not to notice the toe steps, but did take care to keep her toes out of his reach when she could.

---

"Party Till You're Purple"
by Ensign Kelzira Rax
and Lt. jg Tchalla Mel'Chir

Location: The Party!
Stardate 57908.27 20h35

***

"Oh wow," Kelzira Rax said, for what had to be the seventh time since they arrived at the party. It seemed like the words spilled out every time she took a look at Tchalla standing beside her. There was just something about Tchi in the dress whites that looked...spectacular. Especially when she blushed while wearing them. The way the white uniform went with her white hair and her blue skin. "You are just amazing."

"Stop," Tchalla whispered with a giggle. "You're making me turn purple."

"And, I happen to like purple, especially when it's as pretty as you are."

"Kelli, you're naughty."

Kelzira Rax leaned close to her Andorian love and whispered, "I know."

Tchalla giggled again, then quickly stepped away. "I want some more punch."

"I think I need some too," Kelli said. "It's pretty stuffy in here with all these people, even with the particle scrubbers working overtime."

They moved through the crowd together, weaving their way to the large punchbowls, filled to the brim with some fruity concoction. Kelli kept her hand on Tchalla's back, partly to curl her fingers through the white tresses falling freely over Tchi's shoulders, and partly to keep herself from losing her love in the crowd. Tchalla was quite tiny, even for an Andorian, and with most of the crew of the ship gathered in the lounge, chances were good that if they became separated, it'd take some work to find her again.

Then again, she had a suspicion that even if they did get separated, Tchalla would find her again easy enough. She had an uncanny knack for things like that. She could pinpoint sounds with startling accuracy, as well as detecting various energy signatures. It hadn't taken her long to be able to become very familiar with Kelli's own biosigns. While nowhere near as sophisticated as a tricorder, it was amazing how well she could tell things apart.

Kelzira also found it exciting to try to interpret her lover's moods by reading her antennae. As they made their way through the crowd, Tchi was still very excited over the ceremony, but still a little nervous with all the people around. There was a slight curl to the antennae to tell Kelli that some of her words had affected her blue friend, and she could look forward to a rather amourous return to their quarters later.

They arrived at the punchbowls, and Tchalla was already filling two large glasses for them both. She handed one to Kelzira and began sipping her own.

"Did you see Amy?" she asked Tchi.

Tchalla nodded and pointed.

"She looks good," Kelli said. "Not as good as you, but she does."

"I hope she and Kit are doing okay," Tchalla said, looking around.

Kelli joined her in scanning the room for Kit, but couldn't see him. "I hope he's alright," she said. "He's definitely not himself. I don't remember seeing him at the ceremony either."

Tchi shook her head and refilled her glass.

"That's not--"

"No," Tchi said with a giggle. "Don't worry. I wouldn't be drinking like a che'Zho if it were."

"Good," Kelzira said as she nuzzled a kiss against Tchalla's cheek. "Because with that big head this award's giving you, I think you'd be too heavy for me to carry you back to our quarters."

Tchi sputtered and gaped. "Big head? You will pay for that, my spotted one. Oh, you will definitely pay."

"I love it when you get angry," Kelzira purred.

Tchi grinned. "You know I'm not angry!"

Kelzira brushed a finger over one of Tchalla's antennae and smiled. "I know," she whispered. "You're turning purple again, my love."

Tchalla smiled and slipped an arm around Kelli. "I know." She reached up and gave Kelzira a kiss. "Come on, let's go mingle."

Together they wandered away from the bowls of punch and other treats laid out for all to consume.

"Looryx hated these things," Kelzira said as they worked their way through the room. "Big parties and promotion things. Mainly because he never got anything. You know, I should hate them too." Tchi looked up at her. "But, I've been to two, and you've got something both times. So I can't hate them."

Tchalla grinned. "Me either, but there are too many people. And, really, it wasn't much of an award. What did I do, Kelli? I caught a virus, spread it around to others in the crew, and laid in bed dying the whole time."

"M'lira and Kremer got awards too," Kelzira said. "It shows your dedication to the ship. And, it's a way of saying we're glad you're still with us."

Tchi's slips curled into a mischievous grin. "I thought you did that last night."

"Now who's naughty?"

Tchalla laughed loud enough to turn heads and gave her lover a proud grin. "I am," she said.

"You definitely are." Kelzira kissed the top of Tchi's head.

"Still it feels strange. I didn't really do anything though, but get sick in the line of duty. But Taylor and Cris and Mason and Lt. Tagliesh, they did important things."

"They did important things because you got sick," Kelzira said. "And, you getting sick allowed them to find a cure for it, and then making the planet safe again. So, you may have only gotten sick, but your getting sick was the catalyst to cure the virus, and make the entire planet safe again. It's all connected, my blueberry."

Tchi looked up at Kelli, an eyebrow arched.

"My blue angel?"

Tchalla grinned. "Better."

Kelzira laughed. "You've never been so picky about pet names before."

"I've got a big head now, I'm allowed. And, blueberry is okay, as long as I get to call you my sho'kooka."

"Oh, those are pretty," Kelzira said, her eyes lighting at the image Tchalla's words evoked. "Very graceful with spots and..."

Tchi nudged Kel in the ribs. "Now who has the big head?"

"You started it."

They turned toward where Amy was performing with Tchalla leading. "Come on, let's go sit by the stage and listen. And, I want more punch."

"You are going to float out of here, you know."

Tchi linked her arm with Kelli's. "It's very good punch though. And, I'm thirsty."

"I guess this isn't a bad party," Kelzira said. "And, people are having fun."

"I think it's the punch."

Kelli laughed. "I think it's because it's a fun party." At the look her lover gave her, she laughed. "Oh alright. And, the punch."

With a satisfied grin, Tchalla lead them over to enjoy the music and the party. Hopefully it would go a long way to making the Sulu a happier place to be.

---

"Party Till You're Purple er...green"
by Ensign Dwayne Sanchez &
Ensign Andrea Collins

Location: The Party!
Stardate 57908.27 20h35

***

It had been a few days since he'd had some fun, so Dwayne decided to head to the party. What better way to loosen up? He'd pulled on his dress whites and as the door opened for him to enter, he had his finger digging at the collar of the jacket. They always make these things too damned tight.

He pulled his finger from the collar and dropped his arm just as he entered the room. The doors had whispered closed behind him and he was about ready to head back out...the place was way too crowded for his taste, but he'd promised himself he wouldn't leave, so he stayed.

After spying the table near the bulkhead, he walked over and took up a plate and some of the little finger food items spread out on the buffet table. As he walked along, he didn't notice exactly what items he picked up...and therefore when he put a piece of...something that he didn't recognize...to his lips, he nearly spit it out onto the floor. As it was, he took up a napkin and carefully spit it out into the napkin.

***

Andrea walked in. No introduction, no warning...and no letting on that when she did walk in, that she wasn't going to be in her dress whites... Her brilliant red hair seemed to go on forever considering that the gown she was dressed in was also red, close to if not exactly the same color as her hair. She wore with the gown a pair of spike-heeled shoes, about four inch heels

Her green eyes took in the crowd and she smiled...not exactly a friendly smile, but a smile nonetheless. She didn't really want to meet up with anyone here, especially one particular person...or two, but she really did want to at least say 'hi' to the captain, if she should find him.

She really wasn't watching where she was going and wound up bumping into the broad back of one good looking ensign... She'd not met him before and she was wondering why, when she realized she hadn't even seen him before, thinking he was new...

She offered him a hand and introduced herself to him, "Andrea Collins."

Dwayne's expression changed even further when he felt someone run into him from behind, the food on the plate spilled off and onto his uniform...now he'd have to have it cleaned... The change in expression continued when he heard the woman with the brilliant red hair introduce herself. He'd heard about the new one...although, she's not nearly as new as some of the others on board. He ignored the woman's hand as he responded, "Not interested."

Her smile drooped a little hearing his words. Now what did I do to make him say that? she thought to herself. "I didn't say anything except my name..."

"And that was more than enough for me to realize who you were. I've heard rumors about you. You're the one that had been arrested on Risa...I try to make it a point not to get involved with Ex-cons." Dwayne'd lost his appetite and sat the plate back on the table. Doing so, he walked away from her and headed to the stage, more to see Amy than the rest of them, but he was sure Amy would realize that...

---

"Buffet Conversations"
By: Lt. Saavar, Science
Ensign Shirik Lektar, Operations
CPO Calyca Boothroyd, Engineering
Crewman Sorg Jurell, Security

Location: USS Sulu, Lounge
Stardate: 57908.27, 20h37

***

Caly was quietly contemplative on the trip from her quarters to the Lounge and the party. She was thinking about the man walking beside her, and Shirik. She wasn't sure what to do to help her friend, but she knew she wanted to do something. Jurell was in love with Shirik, and Shirik liked him quite a bit. Of course she was in love with Ben, but Caly was of the mind that her friend was blinded by Ben to any other possibilities, and she couldn't help wondering if Jurell wasn't a likely possibility. She glanced up at him and smiled, the problem solving wheels turning in her head. Because really, that was all this was. A problem that needed to be solved.

The noise of the party could be heard quite a ways from the actual lounge and there were people coming and going and movement was slower the closer they got. "There's more people than I thought," she commented.

"One hundred and fifty people in a small space," he smiled. "Should be fun."

"Hmmm. I always feel like I want to jump up so I can see over everyone's heads at these things," she admitted, only half teasingly. "If I get lost I'll head for the punch bowl," she grinned up at him.

"Okay," he smiled easily. They walked through the doors and the gathering was fairly loud. Music played, people were already dancing and the chatter and laughter surrounded them. "You want to eat first, or dance, or get a drink? Shall we look for Shirik and Saavar or shall we leave them alone for a bit?"

Caly automatically stretched up on her toes to see when they entered the lounge. "Eat and drink first or my stomach's going to start complaining. loudly," she told him. "There's a dance floor?" She tried to see through the crowd for herself, but with no luck.

Impulsively he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her easily into the air so that she could see. He laughed as she squealed in surprise.

"Good gods, Jurell," she laughed once she got over her initial surprise and held on to his arms. Her head turned and her eyes found his, noting his grin. "I think they call men like you, rogues," she teased. "Oh look!" She pointed. "There is a dance floor."

He slowly let her down, enjoying the contact. "You dropped a shoe," he grinned. He dropped to one knee and lifted her ankle, slipping it back on while she rested a hand on his shoulder to steady herself.

"My foot was totally caught off guard by losing contact with the deck," she explained as she grinned back at him and smoothed her dress down over her curves with her free hand. His hand felt quite warm around her ankle and although it was definitely not a touch she was used to, it was actually quite a pleasant feeling. Which rather surprised her a bit.

"There you go." He stood and took her hand again. "Let's feed you. You're way too light."

"Thank you, and I'm no such thing," she chuckled. "If you make me heavier, I'm just going to have to exercise more and increase my hand strength," she warned and wiggled her fingers at him, letting him lead her through the crowd towards where the food was laid out.

The long tables were laid out on the fringes, with people circulating them and picking the various delicacies. He handed her a small white plate with the USS Sulu registry number and Starfleet logo stenciled on the rim. He started loading his own plate as they grazed and she moved along beside him like she'd done this a hundred times before.

He pointed out a few Bajoran delicacies to her, one of which tuned out to be a favorite of hers, and few others he knew. There was a fair assortment of dishes and cultural foods. An ice sculpture sat in the centre of the middle table. It was a replica of the Sulu herself hovering above a blue red and white planet made of gelatin.

They shared a few amusing anecdotes and laughed at a few of the less skilled dancers - and that's when they spotted Shirik and Saavar. Saavar looked like he was comfortable in any situation bar or dance floor. He looked grim. Sorg grinned and pointed him out and Caly had to stretch to her tiptoes to see him. Shirik however looked fabulous.

"She looks gorgeous, doesn't she?" Caly echoed his thoughts, glancing over at him as she ate, the wheels in her head twisting and turning.

He watched her for a long moment before Shirik caught sight of them. She looked almost relieved to leave the dance floor. Saavar walked calmly behind her as they approached.

Jurell turned to Caly. "She does," he agreed. "So do you."

"Thank you, sir," she smiled. "Although neither one of them look especially happy," she observed as she watched them weave their way through the dancers. "I've never met him..."

"Then you're in for a singular thrill," Sorg whispered, to which Caly merely responded with a quiet "...mmmm," as the pair had nearly reached them.

Shirik didn't look particularly unhappy, either. She led Saavar by the hand from the dance floor, and towards her friends. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" they could hear her asking Saavar as they approached.

"Not for me," he replied dead-pan. "Perhaps a trip to sickbay later for your feet?" Caly had over heard that, and the question had her grinning with a borderline chuckle. At least the Vulcan seemed to have a sense of humor.

She gave them both a smile. "Good evening, Jurell, Caly. This is Saavar. I'm not sure if any of you have met previously." Her eyes traveled over both her friends appreciatively. "You both look fabulous."

Jurell grinned. "You don't disappoint, Shirik." He cast an eye over her attire appreciatively. "The diamonds don't shine as well as you." He gave her a courtier's bow.

She smiled at Jurell's compliment. "Thank you."

"Jurell's right. You look radiant, Shiri," Caly smiled at her friend and promptly extended a hand to the Science officer. "It's a pleasure, sir. I've heard a lot about you. It's always good to meet a friend of Shirik's."

Saavar looked at the hand and hesitated. It wasn't correct etiquette to extend a hand to a Vulcan, but in this instance he looked up into the engineer's face and smiled as he shook it. The contact gave a fleeting impression of amusement, and he released her hand after a single shake. "It is also a pleasure to meet you," he replied.

Caly had known she was breaching etiquette when she'd extended her hand to the Lieutenant, and why she had was anyone's guess. Her smile grew as he took her hand and gave it that single shake though, and it was echoed in depths of her green eyes as they met his.

Saavar looked at Jurell and nodded. "Crewman," he said by way of greeting.

Jurell smiled. "Lieutenant," he nodded without extending a hand and the Vulcan looked slightly relieved at that.

Saavar's hands once again disappeared inside the voluminous sleeves of his robe.

Shirik's gaze wandered to the spread on the buffet table. "Have you guys eaten yet?" she asked.

"Just started to," Jurell grinned and without really thinking about it he slipped a hand onto Caly's back as he waved at the table with the other. He looked at Caly. "Someone was so hungry she couldn't wait."

"That would have been me," Caly admitted with a grin and looked up at Jurell. He was caught by those green eyes again and for a moment he just stared with a silly grin on his face.

"You still hungry?" he asked.

She blinked at his look, and her grin turned into a warm smile. "Starved."

Shirik caught the motion of Sorg's hand and the look on his face and just smiled slightly to herself. "Sounds good, let's grab something. I'll need to build up my energy for more dancing."

"You going to be the dance queen tonight, Shiri?" Caly turned her gaze onto her friend, glad and relieved to see her looking so happy.

Saavar watched the exchange with interest.

Jurell looked back at Shirik. He nodded and with the smile widening led the way to the table. He was still hungry himself, and there was so many dishes yet to try - Sikara had outdone himself!

"I've decided I am," she nodded. "I'm dressed up, I'm willing to talk or dance with anybody, and this might be the last time this crew will see it, so they'd best take advantage." She laughed softly.

"I knew I should have brought a camera," Caly laughed softly and easily followed Jurell's lead, her skin warm under his fingers and her toned muscles flexing slightly as she moved. "Hmm... Maybe I'll go get one..."

"I don't think so." She eyed Caly, who strived to look totally innocent and flashed her a brilliant smile.

"Why is it the last time?" Jurell asked with a frown. It was a good question and one Caly had avoided even though she'd like to know the answer herself. She already had a sneaky suspicion what it was and waited quietly for her friend's response.

"It's not every day I get dressed up and go dancing," she shrugged. "You know how anti-social I am." She smiled.

"I do?" he grinned. "Funny but this is the second time in a week you've been dancing. But then who's counting?"

"True," she said. "Must be the company." She grinned.

"You'll have to dance with me later," Jurell observed. "After I've danced a few times with Caly." He grinned at the engineer. "That is if she can tear herself away from the buffet table." He elbowed her lightly to show he was teasing.

Caly had listened quietly to their conversation, green eyes glancing between the pair, the wheels once again twisting and turning in that problem solving red head of hers.

Shirik laughed. "It will be my pleasure. You'll have to come find me later, I'm sure I'll be mingling."

She squeaked and jumped a bit when Jurell elbowed her, deep in the puzzle of him and Shirik and caught off guard by the gesture. Her cheeks flushed and she looked like she just got caught with her hand in the cookie jar as she cast startled, guilty looking eyes up at him. "Hey now!" she laughed and poked him in the ribs to try and cover up being caught thinking of ways to get them together. "I'm a growing girl."

Shirik laughed at the look on her friend's face. "I think you surprised her, Jurell. That or she was thinking naughty thoughts." She grinned, waggling her eyebrows at Caly.

Jurell grinned, choosing to ignore her teasing, but he did cast a sidelong look at Calyca as he reached for a few morsels from the buffet.

There was no way Caly was going to admit to anything. She gave both Shirik and Jurell an award winning 'I didn't do a thing' smile along with, "I don't think naughty thoughts." Which of course, Shirik knew was blatantly untrue. She turned her gaze to Saavar then and smiled brightly at him. "Are you enjoying yourself, Lieutenant?" she asked as she helped herself to some delightful looking things from the buffet, setting one or two on Jurell's plate when she ran out of room.

Shirik shot Jurell a grin and a look that said 'Suuuure...' Before moving off to pluck some tidbits off the buffet table for herself.

Saavar smiled, as he too reached for a plate. "I must confess that I am enjoying the conversations and social interaction more than the excruciating folly of attempting to...dance." He raised a typical Vulcan brow with the last word. "I believe that I have reached my quota of toe stepping for the evening and will endeavor to remain in the safety of the crowd." He commenced to fill his plate.

Caly laughed. "Oh dear. Does that mean I'm not going to get a dance with you, sir?" she grinned at him, eyes sparkling in good-natured amusement and perhaps the merest hint of challenge. But whether the challenge was for him or herself was hard to say exactly.

"That is precisely my meaning, Chief Petty Officer," Saavar nodded seriously. "You are most definitely not getting a chance to be maimed by a superior officer. You would be better served to dance with Crewman Sorg. At least he would enjoy the experience where I would not."

Shirik popped an hors d'oeuvre into her mouth and grinned at Saavar. "Don't worry, Caly has strong toes." Then she looked mock-offended. "Do you mean you didn't enjoy dancing with me?"

"No I did not," Saavar said with dignity.

"Please call me Calyca, or Caly," she responded to Saavar, just as seriously, but with her smile still very much present. "I don't plan on getting mine stepped on, and I'd planned to," she added and then looked up at Sorg with a smile.

Saavar just nodded at the engineer. Sorg returned her smile and again was caught by her green eyes and impish smile. She was so different to Shirik, like night is to day he thought as he reddened slightly. He snatched two champagne flutes from a passing waiter and gave one to Caly.

Shirik tsk'ed. "You wound me, Saavar," she said, plucking another appetizer from the buffet table.

"I had feared so," he said, looking down at her toes.

Shirik laughed. "Vulcans are always so literal," she grinned at him.

At this point, Caly decided it was best to just stick closer to Jurell and bow gracefully out of the dance conversation. "Why thank you." She took the champagne glass and leaned in close to barely whisper, "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Jurell said, smiling and catching a hint of her perfume. "I'm just fine."

"Good," the petite engineer smiled warmly and touched his arm with the back of her fingers for just a heartbeat before delicately sniffing and then sipping her champagne.

"Shall we all sit together while we eat?" she asked in general.

"I think that sounds like a good idea," Caly agreed.

"I haven't seen any chairs," Jurell pointed out. "I think this is a standing only gathering. There wouldn't be enough space in here if they did that. We can walk and eat...and then dance."

Shirik shrugged as she ate, looking around at the crowd. "Yes, dancing sounds good. I'm saving one for you," she smiled at Jurell.

"You know..." Caly looked around the room at Jurell's words. "You're right. Where would they put them?" She smiled and looked over at Shirik. "You are going to be the dance queen. I'm so taking pictures," she teased her friend.

Shirik laughed. "No, no pictures."

"Maybe later," he said enigmatically as he looked back at Caly.

Shirik quirked an eyebrow at Sorg but said no more, eating her appetizers.

"Just a couple. For prosperity," she grinned at Shirik and met Jurell's gaze with a quietly questioning one of her own. Did she miss something?

"I think that's supposed to be posterity." Jurell laughed. "But...I think I could make a few holodeck credits from trading a few holograph pics of Shirik in that dress. Of course there's no telling what the average crewman will do with the image...."

Shirik shot Sorg a warning look. "You want to be the next one in sickbay?" she said.

Jurell laughed, "I'm only teasing, Your Majesty...."

"Oh no you don't," Caly told Jurell, pointing the morsel in her fingers at him. "I was going to sell them," she laughed, clearly teasing her friend, green eyes alight with impish mischief. "Hence the prosperity," she nodded sagely.

"You behave yourself." Shirik wagged a warning finger at Caly who pertly blew her a kiss. "You'd better not start corrupting Jurell on the first date," she grinned. "If there's any selling of pictures of me you can be sure there will be some of you, too."

"Oh please, corrupt away!" Jurell remarked with an arched brow. "It's been ages since I was truly corrupted."

"Hah!" Caly laughed and cast a wicked glance towards Jurell before leaning in close to Shirik to mock whisper, "But he's already devilishly corrupt, Shiri."

Shirik raised an eyebrow. "Ohh, is he, now?" she grinned. "I hadn't noticed..."

"Umm-hmm," Caly nodded wisely. "Very much so. It just doesn't show," she confided in her friend and shot Jurell a completely serious look which was backed up with that impish smile of hers.

Jurell laughed. "You know, I'm going to get into trouble with you two. I just know it!"

"And enjoy every moment of it, I'll wager," Caly joined in his laughter.

He gave her a slightly embarrassed smile. "I'm enjoying it so far.." he admitted.

"So am I," Caly admitted back, her own smile a bit surprised, and pleasantly so, instead of embarrassed.

Shirik moved closer to Saavar, not wanting him to be left out of the conversation. She smiled at her two friends as she finished her plate.

Caly looked over in time to see Shirik's smile and grinned back at her. "I'm glad you insisted I come," she told her simply and sincerely.

"So am I," Jurell grinned as he dipped a Bajoran pastry into the hot sauce and ate with relish.

Saavar raised a brow and smiled ever-so-slightly. "It would seem that forcing you to come this evening had extended consequences," he said to Shirik. "I am pleased that it has caused so much happiness." The Vulcan was selecting from several sweet meats and he too ate with a satisfied expression. "Sikara has excelled once again," he observed.

"So am I," she said. "I suppose I should thank you for making me attend." She watched what he selected and decided to try the same things herself.

"Then I owe you thanks also, Lieutenant," Caly smiled at Saavar and eyed Jurell, one brow slightly arched. "How hot is that?"

"Hot," Jurell grinned. He selected one and dipped it, cupping a hand under it to prevent drips as he held it so that she could eat it. "Try." He smiled.

"Oooo, be careful, Caly," Shirik grinned.

"My mouth is made of fire retardant," she teased and winked at Shirik as she leaned forward to take a bite, her hand coming up and her fingers gently touching his. "Oooohhhh...." Her eyes widened as she savored the flavor. "Very good," she pronounced and grinned at Jurell.

He popped the rest of it into his own mouth and chewed with a grin. It made his lips tingle, his tongue numb and his brow sweat. "Delicious," he said taking another. "Need a drink though." He laughed, licking his tingling lips.

Caly laughed as she reached up and wiped a finger over his brow, coming away with it damp and rubbing it with her thumb. "I'll bet. And I'll take some water too if you're getting some," she grinned at him.

Shirik shook her head and said in perfect imitation of Saavar, "I've never seen the logic in eating foods for the purpose of making yourself burn up inside and break into a sweat."

"The consumption of foods of that nature is a personal preference that does not rely on the application of logic," Saavar pointed out in a perfect imitation of himself.

Caly looked over at the pair of them and blinked. "You two sounded so much alike it was scary," she laughed and as Sorg walked away from them to get water, she fanned her mouth and grinned. "Damn that was hot. Good, but hot."

"I prefer food I can taste without my tongue being on fire," Shirik observed.

"If you will forgive me," Saavar turned to Shirik. "I will return shortly." He nodded to Calyca and walked off, making a path toward Xayella Tagliesh.

Shirik watched him go, an eyebrow arching when she saw where he was headed. "I wonder if I should be worried..." she mused, knowing their past.

"It's not exactly on fire," Caly explained as she followed Shirik's gaze. "More... Radically alive. Why should you be worried? Isn't the thing between them resolved now?" She moved closer to her friend so they could speak quietly.

"I'm not sure... I don't know if they ever talked about it. I'm certain he's not going to ask her to dance..." she smiled faintly.

"Hmmm... Let's watch and see," Caly smiled at her, casting glances her way to gauge her reaction.

---

"Flashbacks and Bad Memories"
Ensign Dwayne Sanchez - Ops

Location: USS Sulu, Lounge
Stardate: 57908.27, 20h45

***

Dwayne had had enough. The party wasn't anything like what he liked, the uniform wasn't what he liked either. And sitting in your quarters by yourself isn't fun either, you know. And he did know. He didn't like it, and he missed Amy terribly. He really needed to make an appointment to talk to a counselor. But with who?

He didn't know, all he knew was that he had to talk to someone about this, and the sooner the better. He made a mental note to himself to look up the counselor listing to find one, then make an appointment, preferably before it was to late...

***Location: USS Sulu: Crew Quarters
Stardate 57908.28, 18h10***

And had he? No, he was still not seeing a counselor and now he was feeling way off base, his mind whirled at any thought about anyone or anything. He needed to get off this ship sometime. He'd spent way too much time here on board. Even when they were orbiting Risa, he spent most of the time on board the Sulu, and some people may say that wasn't healthy.

Not that he gave a damn about what people said, but he didn't think it was healthy either. He stood up and went to the desk and switched it on. He looked up the list of Counselors and chose one at random: Counselor Scott. Then, he set up an appointment to see her...

---

"Escape Thwarted"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla
and Lieutenant Mark Thaine

Location: Main Lounge, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.27, 20h45

***

As the crew began filtering out of the auditorium, the room buzzing with conversation and congratulations to those who received awards, Thaine managed, with an unusual amount of subtlety, to gain some distance from Lyrr.

A formal party. Thaine's mind recoiled in horror at the mere thought. The Commander, of course, was unlikely to let him leave early. She hated the things as much as he did, only she had to be there. The only chance he'd have of avoiding the entire, terrible affair was to make a break for it between the auditorium and the lounge.

It was difficult to hide, even in the middle of the crowd, mainly because he was of above average height. Ducking his head slightly, and holding a hand up to shield the side of his face, he tried to move toward the door without being seen by the Commander. A couple of crewmen looked at him oddly for his peculiar behaviour; Thaine gave them polite nods, and hoped they wouldn't think too much of it. Then he wondered if Potts would hear about it from them, somehow, and cringed at the questions it would bring.

Damned counsellors. Almost as bad as parties.

Through the doors, now and...there! He did it! Out into the corridor, and with all the crew heading one way, he was perfectly free to leave the other, unseen by anyone who could--

"Wrong way, Lieutenant," that dreaded voice called to him from behind, and attached to it was a frowning, testily foot-tapping and cross-armed Commander Lyrr. Her eyebrow shot upwards to inflict the final blow. "Care to explain yourself?"

"Got lost," said Thaine, automatically, with his carefully prepared lie. Seeing Lyrr's sceptical look, he sighed. "I suppose I can't just check the core before I--"

"The core's fine, Lieutenant," Lyrr interjected in a chiding sing-song.

"Didn't think so," commented Thaine, resigned to his fate and returning to the Commander's side.

"And after you'd done so well today..." Lyrr lamented dramatically as they turned to start back. The smile he'd seen often that day returned, and looking up at the taller officer, she confided, "I'd very readily have escaped with you, Lieutenant, but I'm required to make at least an hour-long appearance. And as a senior officer aboard this vessel, so are you. Besides" --she placed a hand on his arm to halt him, and stepped in front of him-- "you don't really want to fuel Dr. Potts' suspicions by leaving the party early, do you? This would be exactly what he needs to validate his concerns that you're overworked and deliberately avoid social situations because you're disjointed." Lyrr shrugged apologetically. "Slight exaggeration on my part, but that's the reality, Mr. Thaine."

Thaine nodded, partly seeing merit in her arguments, partly seeing his chances of persuading Lyrr otherwise were slim to none. Then, "But after the hour's up, we can leave?" There was at the least a playful note in his voice, matched by the glint in his brown eyes.

The commander could do nothing but laugh and accede to his veiled plea. "Yes, Lieutenant, we can leave." Lyrr and he resumed their stroll to the lounge, but moments into it, she hastily added, "I mean...you can leave, Lieutenant. On your own...without me in attendance...." She smiled uncomfortably. "In case you were confused at all...."

"No, no, Commander..." said Thaine, quickly. "That's what I meant. I didn't mean to...y'know..." Thaine trailed off into an awkward silence, looking equally uncomfortable.

There was much time during their trek back to the lounge that Lyrr spent gazing off into the distance, or turning her head to study the bulkhead with feigned interest, thereby avoiding direct conversation with the lieutenant. It was only when they entered the lounge again and submerged themselves in the ambient din of discussions and music that Lyrr smiled brightly and said, "A drink, Mr. Thaine? It will save us both from having to dance," she added for incentive.

"I think I could use one," answered the engineer, glancing about the lounge. "As long as it doesn't have to be one of those fancy cocktails, or wines or something...."

"Mr. Thaine, I would never force you to consume something contrary to your tastes," she chided playfully. "I, myself," she added, motioning Thaine to follow her, "prefer a nice, red brandy. You?"

Beer, Thaine decided, was probably out of the question. As was whiskey. "Brandy sounds fine, Commander," he finally responded, after much deliberation. "As long as it isn't too fancy."

"Come now, Mr. Thaine," Lyrr chided, "you can't practice slovenliness in all aspects of your life." She leaned across the bar to slip an order in with Stencil, then turned and rested her back against the counter's edge and her elbows atop it to address Thaine while they waited. "Mr. Thaine, you really must learn to treat yourself to something luxurious once in a while. Like...a hair-cut." She smiled pointedly at his unruly hair.

The engineer raised a hand to his dark hair, self consciously. It was starting to go slightly curly at the ends. "What's wrong with my hair?" he asked, sounding rather worried.

Chuckling, Lyrr answered, "Nothing...if you enjoy seeing the world through strands of black hair." She turned aside as Stencil slid their drinks forward. Lyrr accepted both with a smile and handed Thaine his. "Fine...no hair-cuts," she continued. "But at least try this."

Thaine looked suspiciously at it. "It's just brandy, right?"

Lyrr shot him an admonishing smile. "Mr. Thaine...do I look the type to perpetrate a ruse of any kind?" The gleam in her eyes was hardly lending him confidence.

"You're the Commander...I'd almost expect it from you," returned the engineer, teasing her gently. She narrowed her eyes at him from across the rim of her goblet, then chuckled. Raising the glass up, Thaine took a small sip, then a larger one, and finally a small mouthful. He nodded approvingly. "Actually," he said, "that's not all that bad."

Lyrr nodded briskly as she swallowed. "I think it's a combination of flavour and appearance. And," she confided, "the liquor on Bajor is so awful, anything tastes pleasing in comparison."

Thaine chuckled at her comment, and then his features turned a little more serious. "You remember earlier today, when we were running through my speech? What was that thing about me trusting you? It just seemed to come outta nowhere."

Lyrr smiled wanly and stared down into the deep pool of sanguine liquid. "I feel," she began slowly, "that I am far more...acquainted with you than I am most any other officer aboard this ship. Save for T'Kal. Since that is the case," she continued with hesitation, "I thought your opinion of me would be the most accurate." Lyrr sighed heavily and raised her head to regard Thaine directly. "I wanted to know that I was fulfilling my duty as Executive Officer of this ship...and knowing that I'm trusted by those under me was just one steps towards that." Shrugging as if it was a standard enough explanation, she added, "That's all."

Thaine mouthed a non-verbal 'Oh', of understanding, before taking another mouthful of brandy as he contemplated this new revelation. After a few moments of consideration, with a gentleness unusual for the normally brusque Chief Engineer, he asked, "What makes you think you're not?"

"Trusted?" At his nod, Lyrr sighed and chewed her lip thoughtfully. "Well...it's been something alluded to by certain officers," she explained, and Farrell immediately came to mind. "And although I'm not much into giving a lot of weight to what others say about me...when it's those serving under you, you really can't afford not to listen." Lyrr shrugged dismissively, eyes wandering to the dancefloor. They seemed to hone in immediately on Ben...and Shirik Lektar wrapped around him. Her teeth audibly ground and her hand clenched the delicate goblet cradled in her palm.

Clearing her throat, Lyrr struggled to tear her eyes from the scene and managed to with only minor success - they still strayed back from moment to moment. "Mr. Thaine...I have to speak with Stencil about a certain matter...." She focused on him again, smiling apologetically. "I wish I could remain here the entire evening, avoiding all the other obligations involved in an awards party...such as congratulating all the recipients." Her eyes studied him keenly as she asked, "You're not going to sneak out while I turn my back, are you?"

"I'm gonna be here for an hour." Mark raised a warning finger of clarification. "But I'm not sticking around a minute longer than I have to." There was an open honesty about his manner which suggested that, this time, he was telling the truth.

Lyrr scrutinized the brown eyes she'd come to know well that day, then nodded, satisfied with his sincerity. "Well...enjoy your evening, Lieutenant. And...congratulations again on the commendation. You really did more than deserve it." Smiling, Lyrr took her leave of Thaine to attend to a rather pressing matter.

With a soft sigh, Thaine looked down into his glass, and swirled the liquid around, thoughtfully. Then, turning to the woman behind the bar, he held up his drink and asked, "You don't happen to have any of the real stuff, do you?"

It would, at least, help the hour go by a little quicker.

---

"Return of a Night of Fun"
by Lt. jg Taylor Bennett
Ensign George Glickman

Location: Lounge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.27 20h45

***

Taylor Bennett stepped into the lounge, following a small crowd of others who were arriving in the second wave of party-goers. Since the announcement had been made that informal attire was acceptable for the reception, she'd returned quickly to her quarters and changed. While she wasn't as put off by the dress uniforms as some, she had chosen to change due to the informality of the reception. With a smile, she mentally added that it would throw some people for a loop who would otherwise have expected her to maintain her somewhat on-duty aloofness.

Inside, she knew she wasn't aloof. Just dedicated, she thought. But, that was on-duty and this was a party. She smoothed out the folds of her skirt. It was made of a heavy, Bolian material and came to the tops of her boots. The top was mostly backless, fastening at the small of her back and then at the neck. The skirt was black, though when the light hit it right, it gave off a slight blue sheen. The top was a dark blue and seemed to go perfectly with her eyes.

On her way to the tables where the food had been laid out, she was stopped several times and offered congratulations. It did feel good to be recognized, and she noted that others were feeling the same. There were more smiles around the room than had been seen in awhile, and it helped bring a smile to her own face.

"That's a very un-Vulcan expression," came a voice from behind as Taylor was retrieving a glass of punch. The way Tchalla Mel'Chir had been drinking it just a few minutes ago, it had to be pretty good.

Taylor turned and her smile got even bigger. "Hi, George," she said. "Fancy meeting you here."

"I was just going to stay the same. People are going to talk if we keep meeting at parties like this," George Glickman said.

Taylor laughed. "They'll talk anyway; it's what they do."

He got a drink for himself. "Looking good, Bennett, but I imagine you don't need to hear that from me."

"I'll take a compliment wherever I can get them. And, thank you. I enjoy wearing the dress uniform, but dressing down is nice too. I see you stayed formal though."

Glickman looked at his dress whites and chuckled. "I'm a masochist, and there's just something that makes me feel warm and fuzzy about putting on clothing that's too tight to breathe."

"Would you prefer that to be a direct quote as it's added to the rumor mill, George, or should I embellish?"

"I know where you sleep, Bennett," George said with a laugh.

"And, you also know that Nat sleeps in the other room," Taylor riposted.

"Point taken. Spice it up a little."

Taylor grinned again. "You'll be the talk of the ship in no time."

"So, how are you otherwise, Taylor?"

There was a moment of thought-collecting before she answered. "I'm doing good, actually," she said. "I talked to mother before we went through the wormhole, and life is good back home. After our trip out here, I've arranged for some time to return."

"Very glad to hear," Glickman said. "I'd tell you to say hello to your mother, but where's the logic in that?"

"Logic is overrated, Georgie. This is a party...no logic tonight."

"I like the way you think, Miss Bennett." Glickman raised his glass to her. "Oh, Taylor, what's this I hear about you and Finn?"

Taylor gave him an enigmatic smile. "Tristan Finn and I are friends," she said. "It's an odd sort of friendship, but still. And, there's nothing more going on than that. Honest."

"Sure," he said, drawing the word out. "I've seen the two of you around, and you've been...very chummy."

"Finn's an interesting person with a good sense of humor and a zest for life. Why wouldn't someone want to spend time around him."

"He's a little bit loony," George added. "But I guess he's good looking."

Taylor gave him another smile. "He is, isn't he?"

"How about you not pass around my masochistic, dress-uniform wearing tendencies, and I won't spread around the little story about you and Finn having a wild fling going on during your offtime."

"In my dreams, Georgie," Taylor said, a slight washing of color spreading over her cheeks.

"Oh ho," George said with a knowing wink. "So, is this something you do want...passed around?"

"On the grounds that I might say something that'll get me in trouble, I shall not comment. However, I will say, you don't need to pass it around so Finn finds out." She grinned again. "He already knows."

"You vixen," was all George could think of to say. "Well, keep me posted."

"In your dreams, Georgie," Taylor said with a laugh. "Still, we're just friends. That's all."

"For now," George suggested.

Taylor flashed another enigmatic smile. "For now. Now, if you'll excuse me, it's time for me to mingle."

"Have fun, Taylor. See you around."

As she moved off into the heart of the party, Taylor looked back over her shoulder. "Count on it, Georgie."

It was definitely shaping up to be a good party. Taylor started drifting toward the area set aside for dancing. She wasn't certain if she could talk Finn into joining her, but if she saw him, she'd definitely do what she could to convince him. And, the punch was amazing.

---

"Snake Charmer"
By: Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal
Lt. Xayella Tagliesh

Location: The Party
Stardate: 57908.27 20h45

***

Xay raised a cracker piled with...something, and studied it at all angles before grimacing in disgust and tossing it back onto the serving tray. Sighing at the tedium of a party where she had promised to behave, Xayella wound her arms against her chest and examined the other appetizers spread across the buffet table with a critical eye.

At the tap on her shoulder, Xayella abandoned the useless effort and devoted her full energies towards forming a brilliant smile and preparing a witty remark for Matt. She'd wondered when he would be returning from the mandatory meet-and-greet, and now that he was here, she could finally beg him to quit the party with her and--

Her smile wavered briefly when faced with the taller, darker man before her, then spread wider and filled with amusement. "Lieutenant Commander T'Kal," she drawled, and directed her eyes towards his right arm. "Seems you're missing something...."

He smiled and nodded his head toward the far end of the room. "She's doing the meet-and-greet routine," he replied casually. He was dressed in the formal uniform in pristine white, and his raven black hair hung in a ponytail cinched close to his neck with a wide silver Bajoran pin. His violet eyes regarded Xayella Tagliesh with good humor. His uniform fit perfectly, and he held up one hand and half bowed. "Would you dance with me?" he asked. His eyes had already taken in her dress - a sleek, black affair that dipped low at the neckline but dropped conservatively to her knees. The manner with which the thin fabric embraced her contours and planes compensated for the otherwise understated cut of the outfit.

"Dance with me?" She glanced across the room, at where Lyrr was conversing with Thaine over drinks. When her gaze returned to T'Kal, she was grinning slyly and languidly slipping her hand onto his. "Come on. Let's make our significant others jealous."

He grinned and laughed, "Absolutely. You look stunning by the way." He gave her a sidelong look. "Nice shoes."

Xayella cocked an eyebrow as she extended one leg and inspected her pumps. "Yes," she affirmed, "they are nice." With a ravishing smile, she quipped, "Though, I make anything look good." And reaching the center of the floor, Xayella turned into his arms. The two were next carried off by the music, though Xayella couldn't help grinning suspiciously at him. "So...why are you really dancing with me, Commander?"

"I hate seeing a beautiful woman standing alone when she should be dancing." He spun her with the music and drew her in, his arm holding her stiffly, the other lightly holding her hand. They moved gracefully. Benedict had excelled at the formal etiquette and cultural awareness courses at the academy, and music was a natural part of his life. He moved with it, and drew her along, but she kept step easily. She was a good dancer, and this close, she was a beautiful woman. He caught a glimpse of what Salinger saw in her, in her eyes. "You dance well," he murmured close to her ear as he turned her again.

"I've had practice," she explained, and winked at him to reinforce the innuendo underlying her quip. Standing nearly pressed against T'Kal, Xayella was made aware of how fit the commander was - his chest and the shoulder upon which her hand rested were both defined with muscle that strained against his uniform as he moved. She smiled and opened her mouth to say as much, though tactlessly, but instead settled on, "You're strong." Xay squeezed his shoulder muscle for emphasis. "And if you weren't the commander's, and I weren't involved with Matt, I wouldn't feel guilty saying that, in my day, I would've taken you to my bed, no matter how much you despise me."

He laughed, softly, close to her ear. "Looks like we're both out of luck then." He grinned and dipped her, his hand holding the curve of her hip and the small of her back. A momentary pause and she was pulled back. He laughed. "Too bad.... I have a feeling I've missed out on something," he said softly as he turned her again. His violet gaze held hers.

Xayella chuckled throatily. "You know," she mused, "Commander Lyrr would slaughter us both if she heard that. I'm surprised she's not here now to demand an explanation. I figured all Bajoran women were the jealous type."

Benedict smiled. "Oh she's the jealous type alright, and if she heard you telling me that you'd drag me off to bed, I'm positive blood would flow." He laughed. "Harmless flirting. I'm sure Matt would feel similarly about you." He spun her again. "You have a beautiful smile, you should use it more often."

"I do so when the situation demands it," Xayella explained. "You see," she confessed, leaning in closer to whisper against his neck as his ear was out of reach, "if I smile, they'll think I'm pleasant and soft. You don't get taken seriously when people begin believing that about you." Pulling back slightly and focusing her gaze upwards at him, she winked conspiratorially. "A tip from the ship's favourite pariah."

"Oh contraire," he smiled back. "If you smiled like that, you get taken seriously. They'd do what you wanted far quicker, and they'd love you for it too." He spun her around and lifted her clear of the floor in a wide sweep, almost swivelling her around his hip, to land gracefully with the timing of the music and move on. "I don't think anyone could mistake you for soft, Xayella," he said seriously. With a grin he added, "Supple...but not soft."

Her laughter was sonorous, filled with pure mirth and Xayella rested her forehead against T'Kal's shoulder while she regained her composure. "Mr. T'Kal," she chided, finding his gaze once again, "you're hitting on me. Do you not hate me as much as you let on, then?"

"I am not hitting on you." He grinned. "That would be totally improper. Flattery perhaps...flirting maybe...having fun, definitely." He spun with her, pulling her closer, so that her body pressed against his, his hand in the small of her back. "If I was hitting on you, you'd know it," he whispered in her ear, and let her go slightly so that there was space between them again. His eyes were shining with laughter. "I do not hate you," he said. "In fact you're beginning to grow on me."

"Well," Xay joked smoothly, "let's just hope you don't start growing on me...if you get my meaning, Mr. T'Kal." Her eyes held mischief to elucidate her lewd statement. "Is that how you get when around Commander Lyrr, then? Do you truly love her, Mr. T'Kal?"

His eyes shone when he smiled. "I love her more than my life, Xayella. I would never do anything to hurt her, and I'm going to marry her." His voice was soft, but his words were serious. "She's mine, and I am hers, and no one else's. Does that answer your question adequately, Ms. Tagliesh?" He spun her with the music. It was reaching its end.

She smiled, and for once there was no sarcasm or cruelty there, only a trace of wonder and admiration. "It does, Mr. T'Kal," she answered softly. "And if she loves you just the same, I have a feeling your future will be a happy one." The music's tempo slowed to an easy stop, as did Xay and Ben. Still in his arms, she grinned sultrily and said, "Thank you for the dance, Mr. T'Kal. Though, after this, I think I should at least be able to call you Benedict, don't you?"

"Ben is even better," he smiled and kissed the back of her hand with a slight bow.

"Ben it is." Brushing her fingertips against his palm as she withdrew her hand, Xay said, "Lyrr better watch you closely. You're a charming man, Ben, and many a woman in this room are likely dying to dance with you. Though, thank you for mine." Her lips sketched a lopsided grin onto her face while she turned from him. Hips swaying sinuously as she wandered from him, she sighed and mused, "Lyrr, you lucky bitch."

Benedict watched her go with a speculative expression. He turned away with a slight smile, knowing that the difficulties of the past may well have faded considerably with that dance. She'd certainly responded well to a little flattery and charm. He looked around and stepped toward a table, moving between a group of chatting and laughing officers only to come face to face with someone else.

For a moment his smile faltered, but resumed as he nodded. "Shirik...."

---

"From Snake Pit To Spider's Web"
By: Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal
Ensign Shirik Lektar

Location: The Party
Stardate: 57908.27 20h57

***

Benedict watched Xayella go with a speculative expression. He turned away with a slight smile, knowing that the difficulties of the past may well have faded considerably with that dance. She'd certainly responded well to a little flattery and charm.

Shirik had surreptitiously been hovering at the fringes of the room somewhere, a drink in her hand, where she could watch Ben and wait for a chance to go say hello. Even her keen hearing couldn't catch what Xay had been saying to him, but she didn't like the woman's body language at all, and her eyes narrowed slightly as she sipped her drink and watched them until Xay left him alone once more. Then she weaved her way inconspicuously across the room to intercept his path, and seemed to almost materialize from nowhere, so as he passed the small group of chatters, there she was.

He looked around and stepped toward a table, moving between a group of chatting and laughing officers only to come face to face with someone else.

For a moment his smile faltered, but resumed as he nodded. "Shirik...."

Shirik had pulled all stops out this night. It had been a long time since she'd actually dressed up beyond a dress uniform or a nice outfit to this level. The gown she wore was glittering gold, dipping low to just reveal a hint of her cleavage, and most of her back. A slit up one side showed a hint of leg when she walked, and the skirt draped to just above her ankles, flowing around her. A small diamond-shaped opening in the gown revealed ebony skin around her navel, in the center of which sparkled a single large diamond. Her hair was straight, held in a simple long tail with a golden clasp at the back of her neck, her ears exposed with snow-white hair tucked behind them. Each ear was adorned by a long dangling diamond-crusted earring, and her bared neck was encircled by her fully revealed amulet of House Lektar, a silver chain with a round medallion fashioned of the same metal as her kemla, with the symbol of her House in the center, a coiled whip. Her lips were adorned by shiny lipstick in a reddish purple color, almost like a fine wine, and her eyes were enhanced with a slight hint of midnight blue. On her left wrist was the bracelet given to her by Sorg.

Her eyes had watched him as he crossed the room and she moved to intercept, taking in his graceful yet powerful stride, his muscular build only enhanced by the stark white dress uniform. He was strikingly handsome in it, she thought wistfully. Her smile was warm and unforced, even somewhat sultry as she regarded him from under long lashes. "Good evening, Ben." Her voice was a soft purr.

His eyes saw her beauty but he focused only on her eyes. The striking violet that was twin to his own. He smiled warmly, and from the look in her eyes their meeting previously in his office had done some good. She certainly wasn't downcast tonight. "You look beautiful, as always," he said. His eyes flicked away momentarily; Lyrr was nowhere to be seen and he looked back at Lektar, his hand snatching a glass of champagne from a passing tray. He took a sip, his other hand resting comfortably in the small of his back.

Shirik had made sure well before approaching that Lyrr would be nowhere in sight, lest she step in to interrupt. She brought her own glass to her lips, sipping as she watched Ben. "You look wonderful tonight yourself," she said.

He nodded. "Thank you." He looked at her dress, and the sparkling diamond at her navel. His mouth went dry as he looked back up at her and he took another sip. She was dressed to kill, and suddenly he felt like a fly in a spider's web. "Did you come with Saavar?" he asked casually, noticing that Shirik stood out amongst her female peers rather spectacularly. For raw beauty there was no equal, and to have that focused so tightly upon him made him slightly uncomfortable. He looked her in the eyes, his face assuming his most inscrutable expression.

"He insisted I attend," she smiled. "Caly came with Sorg. I introduced them at breakfast this morning." Her eyes never left him, drinking in every detail as if memorizing them.

He smiled and nodded. "I've met your friend," he said. He could almost feel the way she was caressing his face with her eyes. If she'd been timid before, this Shirik was more like her old self, using her beauty like a Mark V photon torpedo. Without a doubt he knew that she was aiming it at him - and the Mark V was a seeking weapon. He wondered if she was seeking a weakness in his shields and the imagery of a space duel made him grin.

"She's sweet, isn't she?" she smiled fondly as they spoke of her friend. She finished off her drink and set the empty glass down. "So...aren't you going to ask me to dance? Or shall I ask you, instead?"

"I think you just did," he replied with a smile. "How could I possibly refuse?" he asked, swallowing the champagne and depositing the glass on another passing tray, with a nod to the liveried waiter.

He held out a hand and waved toward the dancers. The music had been winding down but it resumed into another tune, suited to the slower waltzes. He took her hand and stepped off, circling her slim waist with the other arm. Her perfume made him breathe in the scent almost unconsciously. It was very feminine. The silky brush of her hair swept over his arm it was so long. His hand rested on her dark flesh, the dress was backless and her heat burned into his palm. He had to swallow as he looked down at her, her face turned up toward his as they commenced the waltz.

She slipped her free arm around his shoulder and moved easily into the dance like one accustomed to ballroom dancing, which she was. She danced close to him, her face turned up towards his, although she was a couple of inches taller than usual in her heels. She smiled as they began to dance, very relaxed and confident.

He moved gracefully with the music, closing his eyes as he moved for a moment. When he opened them again he was only scant centimeters from her face, her eyes a magnetic violet. His awareness of the room diminished until it was only the strains of the music and her face. Her breath smelled sweet, her lips slightly parted and full, the colour of dark wine. He didn't trust his voice to speak, and so he allowed the silence to continue, swaying and moving with the music.

If only they were alone, she thought. He was so close, so tempting. When his eyes were closed she couldn't help it, her lips gravitated towards his. It was only his eyes opening once more that stopped their movement. She didn't look startled or embarrassed, she was still relaxed and very content. This close she could pick up his masculine scent, and she drank it in. Like him, her own perceptions of her surroundings had narrowed, the room itself only in her awareness as the fact that they were not alone, but in a public place. Her body swayed with the music, with his body, brushing against him from time to time. She closed her eyes as she enjoyed the moment.

The play of her swaying body, the brush of her hips, and the delicate pressure she used against his fingers and shoulder told him that she was aware of him in the same manner as he of her. They moved as one, the music swelling and falling, as they spun and moved. He didn't try any alternate steps, nor did he make any move to pull her closer than politeness or formality dictated. Dancing with Xayella was less dangerous than this. He was conscious of every moment, a part of him longing for the song to end, to release him from her tender touches. She was in his arms, and they were closer than he'd ever let her get. Even swimming naked with her hadn't come close to this intimacy.

She wished the music would never end. There were a lot of things she wanted to say to him, but she didn't dare speak, not wanting to break the moment. There was time for talk later. She felt like she could dance all night just as she was.

It became an aching experience. Conscious of her every move, every touch and every glance, directed toward him as if she strummed his nervous system with her eyes. The heat from her body was searing his hand, yet to move it elsewhere invited more danger. The swell of her breasts brushed his chest and he stepped back automatically, but she followed, as if she'd anticipated it three steps previously and he was just moving to the music she dictated. The urge to stop dancing altogether was strong now, yet if he did that he'd draw unnecessary attention, he would also embarrass her. She would lose face and so would he for his lack of manners. He was in a silken trap, and she the Black Widow spider.

Her eyes shone upon him and he could see her heart in her eyes, the longing there and the desire. She wanted him so clearly that body language alone spoke louder than Xayella's frank admission that she herself would have dragged him off to bed. The woman in his arms was in love with him. It was in every glance, every move, every expression on her beautiful face. It was so clear at this moment that anyone looking at her would see it. Benedict felt the pain of what he was inflicting upon her and he wanted to end it.

He looked away for a moment and the crowd became visible. His eyes met those of Lyrr Tayla.

Shirik felt something change, Ben's body tensed under her hands. Her eyes opened, but she already knew what it was before her gaze followed his and came to rest on Lyrr. Still she remained relaxed, she had no reason to tense, although she knew now the dance would end. All good things do, they say. She simply offered a smile in the XO's direction and waited for the inevitable.

Benedict smiled too. His eyes met Tayla's and in that fractional moment it was as if he was begging her to rescue him. The music carried on and they continued, turning with it so that he lost Tayla in the gathering at the edge of the floor. He was in uniform, and he had a duty to perform. One of those duties involved politeness and respect for his fellow officers and the crew under him. He couldn't just stop dancing. At this point he only had two available options: Tayla, or someone else had to cut in, or the music could stop.

A sudden, cheerful voice broke through the din. "Commander, Ensign." The Bolian appeared suddenly, his tailored finery fashionable and perfect. His grin stretched from ear to ear as he moved gracefully around them, matching their steps as easily as a veteran helmsman might match the course and speed of another vessel. Even more miraculous, he managed his own dance while wielding a tray with two glasses of some intricate looking beverage. "This may be a bad time," he said, his voice ever-cheerful, "but compliments from the Commander." He extended the tray to them. Over his shoulder, still standing at the bar, Lyrr Tayla sent up a wave to the three.

Benedict laughed and broke away from her to take the drink. It was an elegantly fluted glass with several layers of fluid. He lifted it and met Tayla's eyes as he nodded. He looked back at Shirik. "Thank you for the dance," he said with a smile.

Shirik chuckled softly to herself. Lyrr had taken the coward's way out. Rather than break up the dance herself, she'd sent someone else to do it. She likewise took up one of the offered glasses, her gaze meeting Ben's. "Thank you," she smiled.

He held her eyes a fraction longer than necessary, and gave her a polite bow, once again, reaching for her hand as he kissed it. "Enjoy the party, Shirik," he added.

"You too, Ben," she said softly. She gave him a small parting curtsy and with glass in hand, turned and slowly sauntered from the dancefloor to rejoin the other minglers, looking for all the world like the royalty she was.

He turned to the bar and made his way toward Lyrr, finishing the drink before reaching her.

---

"Party Time"
By: Crewman Emma Summers
Ensign Vincent Chan

Location: The Party
Stardate: 57908.27 21h00

***

Emma Summers stepped into the turbolift dragging Vincent with both hands. She had a mischievous expression on her face, her hair was a mass of dark ringlets and she wore a clinging silver fishscale minidress and silver stilettos. The dress had strategic gaps down the sides that made it look like she wore nothing else. "This is the one," she giggled. "The Lucky Turbolift." She gave him a sultry smile and leaned against the wall.

Vincent looked up from a crease in his jeans he had just noticed. Following Emma's advice, he had dressed 'casually' in jeans and a rather tight black tee-shirt. Vincent didn't like the shirt at all. It was tight and clung to his body, accentuating his muscle tone. But Emma liked it, so he didn't mind. He smiled at her little joke.

"Lucky is it? For whom?" he replied, with only the barest trace of humor in his voice. He had not played any practical jokes in a long time and he felt it was against his nature. He had only agreed to attend this party to see if he could con anyone into thinking he was an android.

Emma however had no idea. He tried to keep her ignorant of his plans by some distractive comment. "I'm not the lucky one am I?"

She smiled slyly, and as the doors closed she hiked up her skirt. "No...I am," she said throatily.

Distractedly Vincent asked why that was the case but Emma had mistaken it as a playful comment. He quickly went into damage control. "So what do you reckon we're going to do at the party?" He looked straight into Emma's lust-filled eyes. "I actually want to make it this time..."

She raised her brow at his casual dismissal of her invitation and with a pout she straightened her dress. "You have a complete lack of spontaneity!" she sulked. "What do people always do at parties? You're going to dance with me all night, we'll drink, eat, and make out somewhere quiet...." She leaned into his muscular chest and threw her arms around his neck. He really was quite yummy. "Then we'll make like bunny rabbits all night."

Exasperated, Vincent joked, "I'm getting too old for this! Hope it's not too wild..." He raised his hand to head mockingly. "But you make me feel so much better." He gave Emma a quick kiss before the turbolift doors opened.

Emma backed off and gave him an is that so? expression before striding out ahead of him. "Watch it, Mister Chan or I'll trade you for a younger model. One that can keep up with my appetites." She cast him a glare over her shoulder that dissolved into a sly grin. "Come on, old man."

She led the way into the party.

---

"Russians Wear Red, Cowboys Wear Blue"
By: Lt. (jg) Natalia Druschev; Science Officer
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer

Location: USS Sulu, the party
Stardate: 57908.27 21h00

***

It was supposed to be fashionable to arrive late. Natalia had had a bit of trouble arranging a sitter for Domenic, then she had gotten ready - and that had taken nearly two hours. But as she stepped into the party she knew that it had been well worth the effort. She paused by the door to look around, seeing a sea of dress white uniforms and various coloured dresses and suits for those who had changed out of their uniforms after the awards.

Natalia wore a sheath of bright red silk that began under her arms, leaving her shoulders completely bare. It shone faintly in the light, and followed every curve of her body down to a slight flaring below the knees, but was slit up the left leg to mid thigh to allow her to move. It rustled slightly as she walked in her four inch heels and matching red shoes, her long legs were bared and bronzed by her recent stay on Risa. A red silk wrap fell over her arms and looped behind her back. She wore her hair straightened, and without curls it hung almost to her hips in lustrous darkness, tinted with a reddish highlight. Her full lips were glossy red too, her lashes darkened making her pale blue eyes larger and more brilliant. A single teardrop diamond dangled on a thin gold chain at her throat that tantalizingly dipped just above her ample cleavage. She was dressed to thrill. She wanted a party, and seeing the smiling faces and hearing the music made her smile more fully as she surveyed the scene.

A passing waiter left her with a flute of champagne and she drank it, realizing immediately that it was the real thing. She smiled and sipped as she watched the conversations and idly walked through the party-goers. Against the white dress uniforms she stood out, and her eye was drawn to the only other woman in the room who had dared to wear red, and Natalia recognized her only by dint of her reputation - Collins, the girl who had been accused of murder.

There were a few handsome men in the room - more than a few actually. She tapped her foot to the beat of the music and when it changed to a faster Latin styled piece she moved so that she could see the dance floor. The sight of Mason Farrell and the dark skinned girl with white hair dancing caught her eye immediately. They moved in tune with each other, and Mason was his usual self - all grace and handsome as hell. She watched him dance with an ache in her belly, seeing him touch her and move with her, Natalia wished it was she instead. The night on Risa was still so fresh in her mind. The way they had danced...he'd made love to her in the same way. As if it was a dance and was perfect at it as he was now right before her with the beautifully sexy thing he was dancing with. She looked around to see if Ainsley was watching this - but couldn't see her. Had they broken up already? Maybe they had...was he that stupid?

Natalia smiled...and waited. The dance came to an end as she walked around the floor, aiming herself at Farrell. She stepped in front of him as he gave a parting glance to Lektar and turned. She was right in front of him, and her smile was demure. "Mason," she said in her Russian accented speech. "Dance with me?"

Mason took her in completely in about a second and a half, and gave a low chuckle accompanied by an approving shake of his head. "You look marvelous tonight."

"So do you," she smiled and extended a delicate hand, as she stepped into the circle of his arm. "You looked very good out there...but then, you always do don't you?" She looked down slightly into his eyes, her heels giving her the extra height to be slightly taller than him. Her hand rested lightly against his chest as they started to dance to the slower beat of the new song. He was magnetic, and she let him lead her, giving demure glances from under long lashes.

This was exceptionally dangerous, he knew. She had slid across him like water, and had a way of letting him lead, like he was, and like he had, in spite of forcing the entire situation herself. This was a dangerous woman, to be sure. He kept it formal, steps precise.

"How have you been?" he asked neutrally.

She smiled. Her hand on his shoulder progressed a little further upward and she absently twined a lock of his hair in her fingers at the back of his neck, "Fine," she murmured, closing the distance slightly but not too much. Just enough that her cheek was closer to his so all he could see was the soft curve of her neck and her long dark hair, and smell her perfume. "This brings back memories...doesn't it?" she purred.

"It does," he assented, fighting the urge to shake his head to clear the scent. That damn scent.

She backed away slightly so that she could see his eyes, her smile close to his. "You're usually so eloquent, Mason, is something wrong?" Her voice was a soft accented whisper. She looked him full in the eyes - her clear crystal blue eyes were wide, irises large as her concentration focused on him. "I've missed you," she breathed so that only he could hear.

Farrell exhaled and closed his eyes a moment. "Oh, Natalia," he whispered, shaking his head sadly. "You miss a Risan gambler with no last name."

She chuckled throatily. Smiling, she leaned in so that her lips were close to his ear; it also brought them much closer together. "No, Mason, I miss your kisses...and I miss...other things about you. The Gambler and The Lady were a dream...forget that. Just remember what it was like to make love...and know that...if you want me, you can." She brushed her cheek against his as she drew away again, looking him in the eyes with a seductive smile.

"That's kind of you to say. But I like the dream."

"So did I," she agreed readily. "What are you doing after the party?"

Farrell took a moment to soak that in. "You're kidding, right?"

"Why would I kid about a thing like that?" she asked softly. "Just you and me.... My quarters are empty...for the night. No one needs to know," she added suggestively. "I won't tell if you won't...and it's been such a long time. I want you, Mason, just for tonight. No strings attached. Hmmm?"

"We tried that, Natalia," Farrell murmured gently. "It wasn't the same. We can't get it back. As amazing as you are, it wouldn't be the same, and you know that."

"I know." She grinned undeterred. "I think I was too busy trying to love you and you were too busy trying to run away. So let's ditch the love crap and just have good old fashioned no strings attached sex for the night." She laughed softly. "You have a certain flair for it, Mason...and I really enjoyed it." She pressed against his body teasingly, her lips very close to his. "Take me to bed, Mason."

He did not flinch away, but did not take the bait of her lips, either. "There was a time we'd already be there," he whispered. "But this is not that time. Just dance, Natalia. Just dance and remember."

She smiled more warmly at him, one hand stroked the back of his neck and she backed away so that she was at a more correct distance. She seemed to find something very amusing, and he could see it in her ice blue eyes. "Well...Mason Farrell...you really do love her." She laughed clearly, teasingly. "Did Ainsley tell you we've become friends...?"

Farrell fancied for a moment he heard a near-audible clunk in the back of his mind. Shifting gears roughly, he shook his head slightly. "What?" he fumbled.

She giggled delightedly. "Lost for words? Why, Mason, I thought you were smoother than that." She leaned in and whispered, "Mason, don't blow it with her. She's a sweet girl...and I like her."

"What?" he stammered again.

Natalia leaned back and looked him in the eyes in disbelief. She laughed at his total lack of charm. He was actually lost for words. Totally off-balance. "And you had such a reputation too," she chided with a grin. "A rogue...a scoundrel...and sooo smooth with the ladies." She patted his cheek. "You poor boy...she really has got you hasn't she?" Her accent was rich and languid, full of genuine mirth.

He levelled out as she spoke, and grinned when she finished. "Yep. She certainly has," he said pleasantly.

"Ainsley and I got to know each other better...under extreme circumstances," she said softly. "She took care of my boy during the evacuation." She looked away. "I had to stay with the ship." It hurt to make that admission. She looked back expecting to see condemnation in his eyes.

"I was certain I wasn't going to make it off, either," he said, no particular emotion in his voice.

She searched his eyes, seeing something different there. "I was on deck eight when it lost life support," she said, nodding. "For some reason it seemed that saving the Arboretum was more important than getting off the ship with my son...as if it would have mattered if.... " She stopped and smiled, a little sadly. "It was my duty to stay...with the captain, just in case."

"And you feel bad about that?"

She looked at him, the question phrased almost like a counsellor would. She smiled, and her fingers idly stroked the back of his neck as they moved to the music. "You stayed too...didn't you?"

"Not by choice," he said, very softly. "I got smeared across a wall when a corridor exploded around me. I figured I was done, but got beamed off at the last second."

Her eyes betrayed her inner feelings about that. The concern was startling, but she looked away and nodded. "I thought that I wouldn't see another day." She looked back. "It makes you think about things doesn't it? About what's really important...and about the mistakes you've made." Her blue eyes held his, and he could see that she was speaking about herself.

"Mistakes make us who we are," he said simply. "Anybody can succeed. It takes skill to fail in really spectacular ways."

She smiled at that. "Are you okay?" she asked him. She remembered how he'd been after being shot. She was genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," he answered nonchalantly.

She fixed him with a stare. "You're a man of few syllables this evening. Either you just don't want to talk, or it's me you don't want to talk to...is it?"

Farrell shrugged. "I just don't have much to say right now."

She nodded. "I hope things work out for you and Ainsley," she said. "Thanks for the dance." She stepped away with a smile although the song hadn't ended yet and left him there.

Natalia walked off the dance floor with a smile, yet she felt a little empty. She took another champagne from a passing waiter and drank most of it on her way to the buffet tables.

---

"End of Set"
By: Ensign Roades Mouazer
Ensign Amy Reese

Location: Main Lounge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.27, 21h05

***

Despite Roades' endless praise, Amy had still found herself too insecure about her voice to include more singing numbers in their repertoire for that evening's concert. She realized, though, after the first four songs (the first two, lively pieces to kick off the party, and the next two more subdued to provide ambience to the chatter of conversation and the partaking of Sikara's sumptuous banquet) that no one noticed either way whether she was vocally talented or simply a plague on their hearing. Her confidence was bolstered by the infrequent applause they would receive following the end of certain tunes, and in no time, she was relaxed enough to sway along with the music and absorb herself in the contentment of the moment.

The only damper on her enjoyment was the absence of her fellow Suluists. They were a team and their cohesion as a group had meant so much to Amy, and just as it had symbolized their bonds of friendship, their disbandment now reminded her of the distance between them all. Cris had long ago departed the band, but now she caught glimpses of him mingling with a number of guests. She'd seen Tchalla and Kelli watching the performance for a time, and winked at them as they waved before continuing to nuzzle and giggle. There was Taylor dancing with Finn, then Dwayne, sullen and brooding as he'd planted himself in one of the few chairs laid out before the stage.

Nowhere in sight was Kit, though he'd made it clear he wasn't attending, even though he kept his intentions ambiguous when she'd asked. His absence was the most glaringly obvious; she missed having his support and words of encouragement while they performed. It seemed the band's status reflected accurately that of her relationship with each of its members, but it was her situation with Kit that mattered the most, and his absence on stage only reminded her of his absence in her life. She wondered if they ever would reunite after their voluntary separation. The thought alone choked her up, and she was glad now that they were well into an instrumental number, for her voice would not have held if she were singing.

Amy casually drifted towards Roades, who was happily caressing the ivories and bobbing his head to the beat. His purple-dyed hair infrequently fell into his eyes as he moved, but with them closed, he didn't seem to notice. "Roades," she whispered to him. "After this, let's close the set and take a break. I need a drink and something to eat," she lied. She really needed a quiet corner where she could mope.

Mouse looked up and studied Amy's features for a millisecond or two before nodding slightly. "Okay will do, we could both use a break." Continuing on, Roades ended the instrumental number and rose from the piano bench and bowed towards the audience before stepping up to the microphone. "We're going to take a short break but we will be back later, so till then enjoy the festivities." Those words said Mouse adjusted the collar of his tunic before he followed after Amy and the two promptly closed the set.

Mouse wore a dark indigo tunic made of Bolian material that fit not too differently from a karate gi jacket. Underneath he wore a white dress shirt, and over the jacket he wore a black sash that was tied at the waist. Black dress pants completed the look. Amy's outfit differed little from his, though beneath her jacket there was no dress shirt and the sash around her waist was used to hold the garment closed. Instead of pants, Amy was in a long skirt with a thigh-high slit on one side, and sandals adorned her feet. Lifting her guitar away and setting it aside, Amy took the stairs off the stage alongside Mouse.

"I think we're doing really well," she enthused.

"Yeah, me too," he remarked, smiling. "Wanna get something to munch on?"

Amy giggled. "When don't I?"

Linking arms with her bandmate, Amy steered them through the dispersing crowd, who were finding areas of the lounge to congregate and engage in discussion while the computer played the automated music selections they'd programmed. She waved to Kelli and Tchi as she passed, and they eagerly returned the greeting.

"Looks like everyone's here," Amy commented to Roades. All but Kitty, she thought sullenly.

"Yeah, certainly a full-house." As the two reached the concessions table Roades let go of Amy's arm and began to fill up some glasses of punch for them both. "What about your fiancé?" he asked, gesturing to her ring. "Noticed your ring, congratulations."

Amy's smile wavered, then disappeared. "He...um... Well, he wasn't feeling well after the ceremony so...." She cleared her throat and stared down into her glass.

Mouse lowered his plate of snacks and touched Amy's arm and tilted her chin up so they were seeing eye to eye. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked." Letting his hand drop from her chin he asked, "You want to go some place to sit down and vent at me?"

"Oh, I couldn't," she told him with a bashful laugh. "You're too nice...and I don't want to torment you with my problems." Smiling warmly at him, Amy leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Thanks for the offer, Roades. You're a good friend."

Cheeks reddening, Mouse smiled warmly back at Amy. "Anytime for a friend. Please, Amesters, you can call Mouse. Roades...eh...too many bad childhood memories..." he finished.

She giggled. "Like what?"

"All three of my little sisters attempting to give me makeovers or just calling me Roady or Roadkill?" he asked, smiling weakly.

Amy snickered. "That's just what sisters do, I'm guessing. I promise not to say a word." She even pulled an invisible zipper closed across her lips to reassure him.

"Well one way or another I know what you are going to do and that is not get out of having to dance with me," he sing-songed in reply. Grinning, Mouse grabbed Amy by the wrist and pulled her to the dance floor with him.

Giggling, Amy scampered to keep up, and once they'd found a free portion of dance floor, she swung into his arms. The two started into a lively, whirling dance. Laughter spilled from Amy's lips; she hadn't experienced such happiness in days.

"If I step on your feet, you can step on mine all you want later," he remarked, pulling her close before twirling her away from him.

"Later?" Amy grinned slyly and told him, "Very presumptuous of you, Mouse." And with a wink, she spun back into his arms, laughing. "Definitely later!" she declared.

---

"Rhythm"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign Shirik Lektar; Operations Officer

Location: Main Lounge, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.27 21h06

***

"Now that was a cryin' shame," came the distinctive twang from behind her.

Shirik turned at the familiar voice, a smile on her lips. "Mr. Farrell. I thought I might run into you tonight. Enjoying the festivities?" She was in an uncharacteristically good mood, the smile reaching all the way to her eyes.

"As much as you, it would appear. I'm just sorry you didn't get to finish."

"All good things do come to an end," she said, raising the fluted glass to her lips to sip its contents. "You're looking handsome this evening."

"Well, that's awfully nice of you to say," Farrell grinned, as the remnants of the waltz died away. "Would you do me the honor of dancing an entire song?"

Her smile spread as she set down her glass. "It would be my pleasure."

He bowed slightly, and offered his hand, which she took, high and formal, walking alongside him onto the dancefloor again. The music started with a simple hissing percussion line that exploded into a full samba rhythm, and they were off along the floor.

She wasn't as familiar with this music as she had been with the waltz, but she took her cues from him, and she was a fast study.

He sensed the moment of hesitation. "It's all in the hips. Let the drums into you, and show all these wallflowers what they're missing." He smiled, the dare quite evident.

She smiled at him. "Reading my mind, too?" she teased. It wasn't long before she was moving in the dance as if she'd done it all her life.

They whirled and stepped. He spun her away from him, and she led with her hips as she sensuously rotated back toward him, the gold of her skirt flaring around her knees to match her motion. Farrell eased toward her, and they met in tightly synchronized steps, very close.

"This is an interesting dance," she murmured as they whirled and met once more. "I believe I like it."

"Good," Farrell breathed in her ear as she whipped around and put her back against his chest, their bodies undulating together. "Because everybody's lookin'."

She laughed. "Good. Let them feast and be envious," she said, if anything, getting even more into the dance with him. She clasped her hands above her head as he slid his hands over her hips and to her waist, letting the drums seethe in her soul.

It was a dance of roiling passion, of teasing sensuality, of exultant fire. Its verve was infectious, and it was easy to lose track of the time, the world becoming nothing more than a drumbeat and a partner.

When it was over, she was flushed with the activity, but looked like she'd had a good time. "You're a surprisingly talented dancer, Mr. Farrell," she purred. "One wonders what other talents you possess." She flashed him a playful grin.

"Someday you may find out," he murmured, leading her off the floor, where a couple of other men had worked up the nerve to approach. "But you'll have to trust me first," he added, leaning close and whispering.

She quirked an eyebrow at that, but grinned. She didn't pursue the topic at the moment, but would keep it in mind for another time.

And he was walking away, fresh partners stammered out their invitations.

---

"A Lovers' Dance"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla
Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal

Location: The Party
Stardate: 57908.27 21h06

***

His smile seemed relieved and jovial at once, but as he approached, Lyrr's own expression was neutral and her demeanour aloof. When he'd crossed the dance floor and neared her with a look of readiness indicating he was planning on a kiss to greet her, Lyrr casually turned her back to him and folded her arms atop the bar's countertop. Stencil restrained a smile and filled her unspoken order for another brandy.

"Enjoy your dance, Commander?" she asked when Ben had slipped up beside her. Lyrr smiled wryly and wrapped her fingers around the goblet passed from Stencil. Sighing, she added, "I certainly did."

Her tone meant trouble, but he leaned into her and slipped his arms around her waist from behind. He kissed the nape of her neck. "No," he whispered, "I didn't. Thank you for the rescue."

She smirked and shifted around in his arms to face him. Pointedly, she flattened her hands to his chest and nudged him back a step to place a more decent amount of distance between them. "She wore that dress for you, Ben," Lyrr told him flatly. "And I saw you looking at her - at half the women in this place!" she whispered. "Try and behave, will you please? She was trying to provoke me and create a scene, and you almost allowed her to. Choose your dancing partners a little more wisely next time."

He suppressed a chuckle. "I didn't ask her to dance, she asked me. I can't very well refuse her in public without causing a scene. As for looking at half the women in here? It's a crew social event and it's my duty to be social - as is yours. I don't mind you dancing with anyone you please - it's just a dance." He leaned closer as she was trapped between him and the bar. "Will you dance with me?" he asked softly, gazing into her dark eyes. His hand rested lightly on her hip. He didn't care who was watching anymore. "I love you," he said softly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thin bracelet. It shone in the light as he held it up to her. "I got it fixed this morning. I was going to give it to you earlier," he grinned, "but I got distracted."

Lyrr chewed her bottom lip to stave off a smile, but it forced its presence despite her efforts. Laughing softly, Lyrr snatched the bracelet from his hand. "Distracted," she scoffed. "I bet you were." She smiled down at the Betrothal Bracelet, brushing her thumb against it as she marveled at the seamless repair - it was as it had been, but just as they were, it too seemed stronger somehow. Chuckling, Lyrr handed it back to him and held out her wrist. "Go on.... This'll ensure every other woman in here stays away from you tonight."

He undid the complex little catch and held it against her wrist. Gazing into her eyes he said, "It will never come off again. I love you, Tayla," and he clasped it together with a smile, and sealed it with the traditional kiss. Then he took her in his arms and kissed her soundly.

Breaking from the kiss he grinned mischievously. "You know the only way that's going to keep the other women away...is if everyone knows what it means..." He spoke very softly so that only she could hear. His violet eyes were questioning. His hands slipped around her waist as he held her against him.

Suspecting what he was implying, Lyrr swallowed heavily and suggested coyly, "Well ...you could always hold a course on Bajoran cultural practices. That would do it."

He smiled and chuckled, nuzzling her neck and nipping the lobe of her ear with his teeth. "Dance with me..." he breathed into her ear.

Lyrr glanced around nervously, sincerely hoping no one could bear witness to Ben's very outward displays of affection, ones she imagined were bordering on the indecent. Still, she was grinning. "If it'll keep you from doing that again, then I have no choice, do I?"

His warm breath against her neck and the soft chuckle against her skin was his reply, followed by another nip to the lobe. "Nope." He laughed, feeling her tremble slightly. He backed away with a broad grin. Holding both her hands in his, he began leading her back toward the dance floor. The music had gone from a Latino rhythm to the slow undulating melody of a love song. His grin went wider as they left the safety of the crowd and moved into the throng on the floor.

Lyrr's head was down, with fingers tangling anxiously around the ends of her short hair. "I hate dancing," she muttered. "I think, before we're ever seen in public together again, I'm going to have to lay down some ground--" Before she could finish, T'Kal had pulled her into his arms. She blushed and quieted soon enough. Her head was still lowered meekly, seeking to hide her face against his chest. As his arm slipped around her waist, her hand clutched the fabric at his shoulder and the other was enclosed tenderly in his. "People will watch," she whispered.

He smiled and moved his arm close to their chests, so that he was holding her more intimately as they began to move slowly with the music. He rested his cheek against hers and closed his eyes, enjoying the sensations of the music and her proximity. "Let them watch," he murmured as he kissed her forehead tenderly, holding her close.

She chuckled lightly, then, finding some confidence in his nearly encompassing hold. Still tense and heart fluttering nervously, she was at least able to avoid trampling his toes; letting him lead helped minimize that, along with the fact that her legs were too stiff to move properly.

"You don't need to do this, you know," she told him. "I trust you and I know no matter how many women smile attractively at you, you wouldn't even think about betraying me." She smiled as his lips brushed over her eyelid on their way down to her cheek. Her body began relaxing against his.

"Thank you," he murmured, "but I do need to do this." His lips met hers as he tilted her chin upward. The kiss was tentative, soft but it was loving and as he held her the dance floor seemed to fade from existence so that she was the only thing that he was aware of. His violet eyes were shining as they looked upon her, and his feelings for her were openly evident. "I love you, Lyrr Tayla."

"I used to wonder why," she told him, still conscious of those around them, but focused intently on Ben's smile to diminish their presence. "I still do," Lyrr admitted almost guiltily, "but it doesn't matter. That you do feel that way is the only thing that does." Chuckling abashedly, she turned her cheek to him as her face was gently buried into his shoulder. "I'm not used to all this talk of feelings.... Sorry if I'm horrible at it."

He chuckled and kissed her brow. "No...I think that was rather eloquent. But you could say that you love me too," he teased.

"What? In front of all these people?" Lyrr raised her head once more, and was grinning. "I love you," she declared ardently. "And if we weren't in front of all these people, I'd want to show you just how much." Shrugging, she said, "Though, we're too occupied dancing to even think about that....right?" Her smile held mischief just as she pressed in closer to him. "Right?"

He laughed softly, the tone in her voice, the way she pressed against him and the most recent memory of her display of affection stirring his mood considerably. He brushed his lips against her ear. "I'd love to kiss every inch of you," he whispered in her ear. "Slowly...and drive you insane..." His hand scratched the small of her back.

The thought alone inspired a searing warmth, but Lyrr suppressed it with a deep exhale. "You do know this is highly inappropriate, Commander," she chided.

"It is?" He chuckled against her neck. "No one can hear us...and it's only inappropriate if I actually do it in front of all these people." He kissed her neck softly. "Now that thought..." he teased.

Lyrr's breath was growing shallow and her cheeks warm. She prayed, then, for the music to end, just to get some distance between she and Ben. "Aren't you usually critical about making scenes in public," she reminded him weakly. "And isn't this the same thing?"

He grinned. "What scene?" he whispered. "We're dancing...no one can hear what we're saying. It's a slow dance...that's all." He drew back a little. "Talking about it isn't the same as doing." He kissed her fingers lightly. "I'm just teasing, Love...don't fret."

"Who's fretting?" She smiled. "I just think we need to lead by example...and if the younger, impressionable officers see us like...this, they'll be influenced to behave in the same manner." Pausing in thought, Lyrr studied the dark locks of T'Kal's hair twined around her fingers at his shoulder. "You know," she mused, "I doubt anyone would mind if we ducked out early to...well...." Lyrr's cheeks darkened.

"Now if we ducked out early, they would all know why..." His eyes held that same mischief. "But if you say so, Commander...an order is an order...and I have to set a good example after all."

Lyrr laughed softly, finally relaxing into the moment. "How about, then, we just wait a little while longer? I need to ensure the other women know you're truly mine, don't I?" She drew their clasped hands out and studied his bare wrist. "You know...I think we need a tangible sign of your ownership to me." Lyrr snickered at his indignant scowl. "Really," she insisted. "Your own bracelet, with the Lyrr family name. What do you say?"

He smiled, more seriously, the mischief gone as he looked into her deep brown eyes. "I would be honoured to wear it," he said softly. "I do belong to you," he said simply. Then he grinned. "Let's not stick around here too long."

She concurred with an equally suggestive smile and nestled against him once again, with her cheek caressing his. Lyrr didn't know the song, but as they swayed with the music, she found herself humming along contentedly. Ben's presence alone always seemed to lift her spirits; not a bit did she mind that he still smelled of Ensign Lektar. A shower upon return to their quarters would solve that problem easily enough. The tougher problem of securing his heart had already been resolved, and proof of that hung around her wrist.

"Is this what happy feels like?" she breathed against his ear.

"This is what deliriously happy feels like," he murmured with a smile. Her humming against his neck was driving him insane - it was like the purring of a kitten, all warm and sensual and totally lovable. He couldn't wait to get her back to quarters. Then he'd make her purr!

The first song had reached its end, and segued into another, slightly more upbeat piece. Ben and Lyrr paid no notice and maintained their languid, serene pace, though their hearts were racing as if they'd run a marathon. Lyrr's arm had slid around his shoulders, embracing him as he was, her, both holds inextricable. There would be no one cutting in tonight, and she doubted anyone would dare try.

---

"The Things You Talk About"
By: CPO Calyca Boothroyd, Engineering
Crewman Sorg Jurell, Security

Location: USS Sulu, Lounge
Stardate: 57908.27, 21h08

***

Caly rubbed her stomach and let out a soft sigh of contentment. "Alright. Now I'm pleasantly full," she grinned and turned to Jurell. "And now... About that dance..." She offered him her hand.

He took it without hesitation and grinned. "I'm all yours," he said with a twinkle in his eye. He led Calyca away into the throng of dancers. Jurell was a pretty good dancer; he'd been practicing on the holodeck ever since coming aboard the Sulu in some great holonovel programs, and he was confident. He walked Caly out into the dancers and spun her into his arms. "Do you know how?" he asked her mischievously.

"I do. Mother taught me well," she laughed, moving effortlessly into his arms. "Although I must admit that I'm used to dancing with men twice your age," she grinned up at him. "And without shoes," she added.

"Oh...that right?" he grinned. "I have a great holoprogram - I think you'd love it. It's a Jazz club, big band music and jazz and dancing and great food, even though it is replicated." He moved her with the music, leading her as they talked. "Would you like to see it? Some other night I mean."

"Ooohh... Yes. Yes, I would. Very much so." Her movements were graceful and controlled and she was very responsive to his lead, moving seemingly effortlessly and like she'd been dancing with him for years instead of just minutes. "I love both Big Band music, and Jazz, and I'm game whenever you are."

"Wow," he smiled, "a second date. That must mean I'm doing something right. You dance superbly." He held her closely, and the rustle of her dress against his jacket, her perfume and her ever-so-green eyes were captivating. "You have a great smile," he added.

"Well, I don't know how a date is supposed to go, precisely, but I don't have any complaints so far," she told him with a soft laugh. "So do you. Dance superbly, that is..." she grinned and then blinked. "Oh, I didn't mean that you didn't... Uhh.... Thank you. You have a wonderful smile and laugh. You should do both more often." She was very aware of the feel of his muscles under her hands and against her body, and acutely aware of his scent. All of which was quite wonderfully pleasant. "How long have you known Shiri?" she asked out of the blue.

"Not very long," he answered truthfully. "Couple of months...and mostly only at work. I stand post in the computer core. I've been on one date with her - but that was only because I saved her life..." He chuckled. "You know she used to resent me being with her in the computer core, until one day she was late for shift and I covered for her." He rolled his eyes. "Sometimes, I know it's not nice, but I think she's nice to me because I'm useful. She's in love with T'Kal." He frowned. "I'm rambling aren't I?"

Caly blinked and laughed softly. "I'm glad someone else does it too," she told him. "Not overly much," she assured him, looking up at him and smiling with warm understanding. "She won't stay in love with T'Kal though. He belongs to another and doesn't love her. You could try, Jurell. Go after what you want," she offered quietly, green eyes studying his face.

"I don't truly know what I want yet," he said softly, looking into her eyes. "Sometimes we can be blinded to what we really need and want what we can't have." He smiled. "Shirik wouldn't stay in love with anyone, Caly. It's not in her nature. She'll live ten times longer than I will, and I'll be old while she's still young. I know that I wanted her...." He shook his head and hmphed softly, almost with amusement. "Wanted." He rolled that around in his head for a moment. "Yes...past tense. Wanted."

Caly watched him as he spoke, her body moving to the tempo of the music and at the direction and slight pressure of his. She nodded to some of what he said, and frowned at others. "I think if she found the right person she could," she offered quietly. "She's like an ice berg. Only the very tip of who and what she is shows." She smiled a little at his own amusement, green eyes looking up into blue. "And you don't now?" She'd never actually realized just how many different shades of blue there were. Or how many different shades it took to make up one very distinct color. She was staring and didn't realize it.

"No." He was staring too. The music was romantic, a slow tempo that encouraged slow steps. He held her close, and they were very close, and he smiled. "No," he repeated softly. "I have...no idea." She felt very good. He didn't mind that she was staring, it just seemed the thing to do...like when she'd heaped food onto his plate without asking, or when she'd reached up and wiped a morsel of mustard from his lip, or when he'd put her shoe back on, or offered her a drink from his glass. It just seemed...so natural.

"No idea about what?" she asked rather absently. Dancing had never really felt like this before. Of course it'd always been a chore and this could definitely not be called a chore. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Gold.... "There are gold flecks in your eyes," she accused softly. Although it wasn't quite an accusation. More of a startled realization.

"Hmmmm...I don't think I've ever noticed," he replied. His words were quiet, almost a whisper. "Yours are so green...like emeralds. Beautiful...." He smiled, self-conscious all of a sudden, but still unable to look away.

"You've probably never looked," she pointed out logically and her own words were hushed. She smiled a little self-consciously herself as she continued to look up at him. "You didn't answer my question."

"What question?" he asked. His eyes dropped to her lips and back and he felt his heart rate bounding. He was sure she'd be able to hear it.

If it'd been a Warp Core she might have been able to, but her hearing wasn't tuned to his heartbeat. She smiled and laughed softly. "The 'you have no idea about what', question," she reminded him.

"Oh...about what I want. I have no idea...what I want." Although he was beginning to get an inkling. He smiled and looked around, and his eyes caught sight of Ben T'Kal and Commander Lyrr, wrapped in each other's arms and totally unaware of their surroundings. He watched them for a few moments, and his smile became wistful. "I think that's what I want," he said nodding toward the couple. "They look so much in love. I want that too, I guess. To love someone as much as they love me. To be with someone I can cherish."

"Oh right. You'll figure it out," she grinned and followed his head nod, turning slightly to look at the XO and Security Chief. "Yes, and be cherished," she agreed. "My parents have that," she told him, her smile turning warm. "T'Kal's very much in love with her. It was very easy to see when I met him earlier." She turned her gaze back to his. "I think most people want that."

"What about you?" he asked. "What is it that you want?"

"Hmm... I think I rather expect to have the same thing someday," she nodded a bit. "Growing up with my parents won't really let me settle for less. It's just not something I think about really. Been too busy and preoccupied doing other things. I'm not sure I'd have the focus for it. I get distracted with work, lose track of time, get engrossed in fifty other things," she smiled up at him.

"You just haven't met the right person yet," he pointed out.

"Oh, is that it?" she asked with a soft laugh. "Actually, you're right. I haven't met anyone willing to put up with me and my absent-minded ways," she grinned. "What about you, Jurell? Never met anyone you thought you could make that kind of commitment to?"

"Once," he nodded, his smile faded. "I was engaged a long time ago to a childhood sweetheart. It didn't work out...she fell in love with another guy. My best friend as a matter of fact."

Caly frowned at his words, her eyes warm with sympathetic understanding. "I'm sorry. That had to be very hard for you. Especially with your best friend. Did it make you very wary?" she asked.

He chuckled. "You could say that. I've only been on two dates since." He leaned closer to whisper in her ear. "This is the second one." Their cheeks touched and he stayed there, the scent of her hair was wonderful.

Caly blinked and laughed softly, shivering a bit when his warm breath washed over her ear. "You are a brave man, Sorg Jurell," she told him.

"Yes," he agreed softly. "I willingly throw myself into danger at the first opportunity." He slipped both arms around her so that she naturally reached her arms around his shoulders. "Danger is my middle name," he chuckled.

"See, I knew that," she laughed and did indeed reach her arms up to his shoulders. "You've braved Shirik, Fifth Princess of Drokar, and her wacky engineer friend. You're in grave danger," she grinned. He was fun to joke with and had a good sense of humor. She liked that.

"I never pictured you as a wacky side-kick," he laughed. "As for braving Shirik, well she's easy to brave, she's all bark and no bite." He swayed to the music now, rather than following traditional steps - it was easier to talk that way. He was also thoroughly enjoying her closeness. The music came to an end and in the momentary lull, he didn't release her. "What shift are you on?" he asked.

"You haven't seen her bite yet? Brave and lucky," she chuckled. "I'm Alpha. Why?" She leaned back a bit to look up at him in question.

"Yeah...must be luck! I'm on Alpha too. It just makes it easier that way...you know...for dates and things." He grinned. "Being on the same shift I meant."

"Oh... Right." She blinked and grinned back. "Uh... Did I mention that I don't usually do that whole - date thing?" Which was rather a contradiction considering she was on one at the moment.

"I think so," he mused. "That was before you said yes to a second date though, so I'm not sure that's entirely true." He was staring into her eyes again.

"Oh... Hmmm... Good point." She couldn't deny it, not that she would. "I'm not sure two's a thing though," she pointed out. "You've got purple in there too."

"When would it be a thing then? Is there a definite point that you reach where it's a thing so you don't do it anymore?" He smiled. "Are you colour blind? I thought they were blue."

He was teasing her and it made her laugh in genuine delight. "Honestly, I don't know. It isn't something I normally do, so I have no experience to fall back on," she admitted. "Of course not. It's just... It's incredible how many colors make up just one.... I've never noticed before. And really... It's fascinating. Rather like a puzzle," she admitted with a lopsided grin.

"I'm glad you find my eyes so fascinating. Just promise me you won't try to take them out and tinker with them." He laughed. "Well, seems we have something in common. I'm not familiar with dating lately either, so how about we practice on each other - just in case either of us meets someone we'd actually want to date...then we'd know what to do. Practice makes perfect you know...and that way it wouldn't become a thing."

"I promise not to take them out. Cross my heart," she laughed and then blinked at the rest of what he said. "I think.... That I've never quite heard logic like that." She was laughing softly now. "How about we declare ourselves friends, spend time together when we feel like it, and don't call it dating at all?"

"Perfect. Wow, see...you are good at this! You got the whole dating thing out of the way totally! Have you ever thought of being a counsellor?" Then he frowned. "But then we run into that friends thing. "

"Counselor? Oh good gods, no," she laughed and shook her head. "I'm waaay too frank for that. People don't want the slap on the back and a 'buck the hell up', when they're feeling all wonked out." She grinned at his frown and shook her head a bit. "No problem. The friends thing is all good. Cause we can just be ourselves."

"I just don't want to be too friendly...you know...you get to know a girl and become friends and then that's it. You progress to cute and Oh he's just a friend and it's all over." He gave her a smile, still holding her around, the waist the next song underway already.

"Too friendly?" She couldn't help the laugh that escaped at his explanation. "Okay wait... So if I start to say you're cute it's all over? But... But what if I think you're cute now? And we start out with cute and Oh, he's just a friend? I'm not sure what kind of thing that is, you know."

"Oh Prophets you used the cute word. Well at least it's not the N word. The N word is death, sure to doom all relationships...and I certainly refuse to be just a friend. If I fall into that category there's no climbing out!"

"The... N word? What in the worl--- OH!!! Nice!" She laughed delightfully, giggling really. "Now hang on a second... Cute means it's all over, Nice is death, and you refuse to be Just... I swear to your Prophets, Jurell, this is getting terribly complicated. I need a schematic," she grinned up at him. "And I already think you're Nice, so I suppose we could just start out with holding funeral services, or just say the hell with it and have fun. And are we dancing again?"

"Again? Did we stop?" He laughed delightedly. "So I'm already nice?" He shook his head. "Cute? and just a friend?" He groaned in pain. "See that's why you don't date! You're a rotten judge of character! Didn't someone say I was devilishly corrupt? Does that sound like nice?"

"I think the music did," she pointed out and nodded to his points, patting his shoulder at the pained groan. "Horrible judge," she agreed. "No! Wait. You are cute, and nice and just a friend. And that would have been me who said that devilishly corrupt bit. You, my dear Jurell, are all of those things." She grinned up at him. "Which makes you Mysteriously Attractive. In a dangerous kind of way, of course. Can't leave out that danger part," she reminded him. "Oh... And lucky."

"Mysterious?" He grinned. "Hmmmmm I like the sound of that. Okay. Attractive...that's not too bad either. I can go with that." He nodded sagely. "Right now...okay, I guess I can go with the Lucky part too. I definitely feel lucky," he said, gazing into her emerald eyes.

Caly laughed delightfully and grinned at him, shaking her head just a bit though it wasn't a negative gesture. "Okay, so we're straight now? The mysterious, attractive, dangerous, lucky part cancels out the, cute, nice and just a friend part?" Her eyes held her mirth and she was on the verge of laughing again.

"You know I haven't laughed this much...ever, I don't think. What are you doing tomorrow?" He hesitated a fraction. "I mean besides working. How about lunch? or dinner? or just a coffee?" He grinned. "Not a date or anything... just...a...thing."

There was a heartbeat when she just stared at him. Then she blinked and broke out in delightful laughter. It took her a moment of literally leaning her brow against his chest before she could compose herself enough to speak. "How about a...lunch thing then?" She lifted her head and looked up at him, still on the verge of laughter and grinning impishly. My, but it was good to laugh.

---

"Party Pouters"
by Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse
Petty Officer 3rd Class Shyla Lynn Moreau - Astrometrics Technician
and Doctor Ilan Potts - Assistant Chief Counselor

Location: USS Sulu, Lounge
Stardate: 57908.27, 21h09

***

"Want to get something else to eat?" Cristobel Sefton asked Shyla Moreau. It seemed as if a moment of silence was about to pass between them, despite all of the noise around them, and Cristobel wouldn't allow that. Even during the awards ceremony, Cris had been whispering snarky little asides to Shyla -- only some of which elicited embarrassed laughter, but more than he expected. Sefton was entirely determined to get through this night without either of them thinking of the late Ethan Anderson Storm, and he wasn't in much of a mood to speak of Corran Quezith, either. Corran had felt that he couldn't handle the amount of people at the party, because of his evolving telepathy and what seemed to Cris as an evolving agoraphobia. Without the ghosts of respectively dead and living lovers over them, it was hoped to be a shiny roomie's night out.

"I'll need a moment," Shyla said, making what Cris knew was a faux-sick face and patting her stomach. "It's amazing...one commendation and you suddenly think nutritional rules don't apply. I'm eating for two...not two hundred."

"I'm sorry," Cristobel intoned puppy-like. "It's just that I read about malnourishment in pregnant Terrans the other day, and I'm still a little bit hungry. I wasn't eating properly with the stress of the crisis and then the stress of my correspondence tests the past few days, and I've been doing lots of climbing through jefferies tubes. I think I lost weight..." Cris pinched the fabric of his white dress uniform jacket, which wasn't as formfitting as he would normally like.

"You've absolutely lost weight," Shyla observed, looking over Sefton's extra-lean form. "But I wouldn't fret about it too much...now that we're living together, you're poised to gain bunches and bunches of sympathy kilos."

Not directly responding to her words, Cristobel enthused, "You are absolutely right: we can go without more party food for a vast ocean of time. An ocean in which we can swim after half an hour."

"I thought it was a full hour?" Shyla asked, genuinely confused or at least feigning it well. She leaned her head on Sefton's shoulder. "Or is that just for Terrans?"

"Just for Terrans," Cristobel assuredly responded.

"Betazoids get all the breaks," Shyla observed, pouting into his dress jacket. "Telepathy and pretty dark eyes and equally pretty boyfriends. It's not terribly fair."

"Urban legends all around," Cristobel whispered right to Shyla in a pouty tone of voice. Glibly, he explained, "The swimming thing is utterly untrue for any species. (Except for maybe Caitians.) The telepathy is a break all right - as in break my skull please, when everyone who comes down to Sickbay is sick or injured. (What's that about?) You may not realise this, but your eyes are pretty dark, young lady, and I sure wouldn't mind icy blue eyes some days. And, really, what's the point of having a pretty boyfriend (who will likely end up making you look homely) if you can't show him off when you win commendations?"

Shyla removed her head from his shoulder. "Where is Corran anyway? I know that he has to be careful around other people but he's not even able to make an appearance?"

Shrugging his uncertain response, Cristobel replied, "He built that mystery. I just live with it."

"I miss him," Shyla said, suddenly and strangely sullenly. "I not sure I like this evolution if it means he's going to disappear."

Mostly flatly, Sefton returned, "Some hours, limbo is worse than not here at all."

"I'm sorry, Cris," she said, her voice sympathetic. "I'm glad I was here for your commendation." She brightened a little. "And your mother's...you must be so proud."

"Of course," Cristobel said, brightening a little as well. "I just spun a chair into a wall and found a secret laboratory...and possibly had the away team gassed, but how was I to know the monitors in the secret lab would have touchscreen technology automatically scanning for fingerprints? Nowhere else on the planet used touchscreen technology and I was so careful not to press any buttons. My mother, though, she used what I found to be able to counteract the effects of the virus without harming the patients. And to destroy the few more pockets of the virus that Science found on the planet."

Shyla was about to hug Cris when there was a flash of brilliant blue light that seemed to come from a rough edged sphere from all around them. Unprepared for the display, both Shyla and Cris blinked the stars from their eyes while Doctor Potts waited for his holoimager to advance to the next storage module.

"Don't mind me at all," he said, pointing the device for another capture. "I'm merely working on a scrapbook of my extended Sulu family. I'm going to call this section "Heroes of the Sulu". Please...continue to act natural."

Cristobel moved to give Shyla that hug, and the holoimager snapped another image when they were in a pre-hug pose -- their arms seeming to be flailing wildly, their torsos bent forward, overt self-consciousness in their eyes. Without commenting on the blue flash, Cristobel continued naturally to ask Shyla, "I was just about to suggest that we get some drinks. I need something fizzy. And syntheholic."

Potts dropped the holoimager from in front of his face, letting it hang from his neck on the strap. "Oh, that sounds wonderful!" he enthused before a near immediate frown. "Though..." he continued a little uncertainly. "I'm not sure your mother likes it when you overdo the synthehol, Cristobel."

"I haven't had any," Cristobel pointed out, mostly confused. With a pointed playful petulance, he then remarked, "I'm not sure you know what my mother likes."

"That is a work in progress," Potts said, pointing a long finger at him and literally bellying up to the bar. He pounded on it. "Stencil, water for everybody! I'm buying!"

Noticing a passing waiter, who carried a tray of champagne, Cristobel cocked his head and smirked wickedly. He snatched up two fluted glasses of the bubbling beverage, and flatly pouted, "Oh no. Shyla can't drink. I'll have to drink both. Potts says my mommy might not like it. Damn." And Cris proceeded to gulp down nearly a fluteful.

Doctor Potts tsked a bit at young Sefton's predilection for heavy drinking but still managed a smile. "I'm actually thrilled I ran into you," he directed at Shyla before amending, "the both of you. It's my understanding that there is an officer on board lacking in a little human closeness and I should like to remedy that."

Shyla and Cris exchanged brief worried glances. "What are you talking about, sir?" Shyla managed to ask with a clear bit of apprehension. Sefton started on the next flute of champagne.

"I heard from a reliable source that you--" Potts pointed at Shyla "-- came up with a clever bit of communications when young Sefton here was back on Betazed. Something about using the holodeck to give a physical representation of a person you're speaking to via comlink so you can physically interact with them."

"Who are you trying to have long-distance sex with?" Cristobel asked, fairly matter-of-factly.

"That had not even occurred to me," Ilan admitted, smiling in wonder at the concept. "But if that is what happens, I should be very pleased." He looked at Shyla. "Was that the motivation for the program, Miss Moreau?"

Shyla shook her head, mortified. "Not at all, sir!" she squeaked, turning crimson. "Ensign Sefton was back on Betazed and I just thought it was a nice way to talk to him. I had nothing of the sort in mind."

"When she invited Ensign Reese, though, Amy did try to grope me. I mean, it was just a little, nothing overtly sexual. But it certainly felt real," Sefton asserted.

"Then you enjoyed the experience?" Potts asked Cris, leaning over to him a little. "As a method of communication, would you say it's a little more intimate than just a viewscreen?"

"It's creepy more than anything," Cris replied. "I mean, most of your body ends up fooled into believing that you're talking to someone you know, but the hologram lacks any emotional depth. Creepy."

"I can see that," Shyla shrugged, not quite agreeing. "I thought it was okay until the end when we lost the connection and the Cris hologram went all slack and dead-eyed. That was kind of creepy."

"Excellent!" Potts exclaimed, leaving Cris and Shyla to wonder if the good Doctor properly understood the meaning of 'creepy'. Potts looked to Shyla. "Is there any chance you could walk me through your program, Petty Officer Moreau?"

"I don't see why not, sir," Shyla said. "If you'd like to meet me in Holodeck Four tomorrow morning at 0600 --"

"Oh no!" Potts seemed utterly dismayed. "No, no...I was hoping sometime tonight!"

Shyla was taken aback. "Oh," she began, prompting her to bite her lower lip. "It would take a bit of time and I was --"

"I do believe the entire purpose of a morale-boosting party such as this is a break from the act of duty," Cristobel said haughtily towards the counsellor who should know better, but then hastily amended, "If not the spirit of it."

Potts held up his hand. "Say no more...I shall endeavor to find help from someone who is on duty." The Doctor knitted his brow, denoting some degree of heavy thought. "I assume that your program specifics are available to the general public?"

Shyla nodded enthusiastically. "It's stored under Moreau Holocommunicator One...but I was a little lazy and used an existing setting from another program. I don't know if a battered starship Sulu will be appropriate for you."

"No," Potts muttered, still thinking. "That won't do at all...whomever I find will have to reprogram a proper backdrop. Now, where to find someone skilled in holoprograming who is also a female." Potts started to wander off absently.

"Why does the programmer have to be female?" Cristobel asked, although he suspected he could guess the answer before reading Potts' mind.

Potts turned back around and smiled wide. "For me, Ensign Sefton," he said as if it were obvious. He spun back around and continued towards the door.

"Right, then," Sefton murmured at Potts' exit. He blinked hard to evaporate a mental image from his brain, and regarded Shyla charmingly. "I don't think it quite time to end our makeshift fast. Would the most glowing lady in the room care for a dance?" Cristobel beamed and outstretched his upfacing palm towards Moreau.

"Corran's a lucky guy," Shyla said with a smile, placing her hand atop his. "If I ever see him again, I promise to remind him."

"Just think it and he'll know," Cris reminded her. "Until then: we dance."

---

"Catnapped"
By: Ensign Kremer, Medical
Ensign Shirik Lektar, Operations

Location: Maine Lounge, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.27, 21h10

***

The Cait hovered along the sidelines, as the other wall-flowers anxiously awaited to jump at the chance to dance with the lovely Drokari princess, now left by Ensign Farrell. He glanced along the sides, noticing most of the flowers carried expressions from being stammering fools to attempting to act like true jocks. Adjusting the collar of his dress whites Kremer stepped forward and offered his paw to Shirik, tail swishing behind him playfully.

"May I have this dance?"

Shirik gave him a smile, looking grateful to be saved from the stammering fools, and took his paw after only a moment's hesitation. "Certainly."

Smiling, Kremer guided Shirik to the dancefloor amongst the other dancers and let paw rest on her waist and in the other hand. He practically purred as the two began dancing to a slow song. "It is so good to see you back on your feet, Shirik. You all gave us a good scare in Sickbay."

"I hear you were infected yourself," she said. It felt very...odd...to be dancing with an upright feline, but little by little she was getting used to having fur in her hand rather than skin.

"I was, though I ended up being out cold most of the time asleep. Just breathing and talking became a task for me so I just concentrated on resting." He brushed his tail alongside her cheek gently. "I'm happy to see that you have your voice back, though I hear you were still quite a little chatterbox when armed with a PADD," he teased, smiling.

Shirik jumped in reflexive startlement as the tail touched her unexpectedly. "Thank you... But please control your tail," she said.

Kremer's ears drooped slightly. "Sorry. I swear the thing has a mind of its own." Continuing to dance but also making a point to keep an eye on his furred appendage he asked, "So how have you been doing after finally being freed from Sickbay?"

"Surprisingly well," she said. "I didn't expect to be recovered so quickly, but I'm more or less back to my old self. I'm beginning a strict exercise regime to keep in shape."

"Always the best medicine. Any sports in particular you're focusing on?" he asked, interested.

"Running, weight training, and swimming is what I'm focusing on right now, but I also want to work on combat training, and I enjoy horseback riding. You?"

"Aside from having a slightly different diet regime to build my strength up, I have been focusing on running, rock climbing and meditation, still adjusting to meditation but it's good exercise for the mind." The two continued a little while longer talking and dancing until the song finally ended. Smiling, Kremer released Shirik from his paws.

She nodded. "Saavar has been teaching me Vulcan meditation techniques, but I'm not sure it's helping..."

"Thank you for dancing with me. Would you still be up to that dinner I asked you to, unless of course you have other plans. I'll understand completely..." Kremer's fur flattened in worry.

She smiled warmly. "I did say I accepted your offer. I'm sorry it's been delayed so long. Let me know when you're free and we'll go."

"I will. Enjoy the party." The two parted their separate ways and proceeded to enjoy the rest of the festivities.

---

"Dance Ms. Bennett?"
By: Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal
Lt. (jg) Taylor Bennett

Location: Main Lounge, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.27 21h15

***

Benedict stepped away from the buffet table with a glass of Summerwine. He was catching his breath from dancing, and so far he'd been busy. He unclipped the top button on his collar of the Dress Whites he wore and smiled around at some of the party-goers. His eye roved across the crowd of happy faces and settled on one that was familiar. Vulcan ears, and a smile, that had to be Bennett. He started over toward her as she nodded and said something to Glickman and then they parted. He stepped into the space, and smiled down at her. "You look great - as usual, Ms. Bennett," he gave her a slight bow. "Would you care for a dance?" he asked.

"Commander," Taylor said with a smile. "I'd love a dance. Thank you." She set her glass aside, making certain to note its location for after the dance. "You look very nice in dress whites as well, sir."

"Thank you, Ms. Bennett," he grinned, drinking the last of his own wine. He waved toward the dance floor. She placed her hand in his as he led the way to the center of the floor. The music was lively, but still suited for formal dancing and Benedict stepped off in the traditional fast waltz.

"Enjoying the party so far?" he asked with a grin. Her hand in his was firm, and he could sense the hidden strength in her frame as she moved. Dense muscular structure was the boon of the Vulcan, and for a moment it was like dancing with Tebrianne again. The same eerie deja vu.

"So far, yes," Taylor said. "It was a difficult choice to remove my uniform for the reception, but it is more comfortable. And, this is my favorite skirt. It's very nice to see people here and smiling. There hasn't been a lot of smiling lately." She hadn't had a lot of chance to dance since joining Starfleet, so parties such as this were a rare treat. She smiled at him as they moved together, both stepping gracefully. "It's a very good turnout. I think it'll be good for morale."

"I think so too," he agreed readily. He hadn't smiled as much in ages either. "You look good in your favorite skirt," he added as they spun with the music. She was light on her feet and could feel her leading as much as he. "You should make that choice more often." He grinned. "Are you enjoying your Gamma command shift?"

Taylor smiled, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "Thank you, sir," she said. "I'll have to dress down when off-duty more often then. While I love wearing my uniform, it's also nice to wear my own clothes sometimes." She grinned. "And, Gamma's nice. It's quiet, so it's easier to learn my way around commanding the shift. It makes it more difficult to be social, but I've found a few creative ways around that."

He nodded and spun her, as they came together again he said, "Well I'm seriously thinking about moving you to Beta shift and giving Arthas the Gamma shift. I think it will do you good. What do you think?"

"That would definitely put me back onto a schedule that would allow me to be a social butterfly," she said with a grin. "Thank you, sir. I think I'd like that very much, and I look forward to the additional responsibility."

"You've done well," he smiled. "I'm quite proud of you actually," he grinned. "Seems odd, doesn't it, for me to say that, but I don't think you realize how many of the security detail look up to you. You've never made a mistake, Taylor, and you have the gift. I've been talking it over with Arthas, and he's of the opinion that you should step into his ACSO position."

"Wow," she said, eyes wide and another blush coloring her face. "Wow. Thank you, sir. Thank you both. If you feel me capable of the position, sir, I'd be honored. And...and I won't let you down." She grinned again, an expression that seemed to light up her face. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," he chuckled as they danced. "Arthas isn't career minded in that way. Having a symbiote that's been in some pretty lofty positions gives him a different perspective I think. It's a good opportunity for you, and if you want it then pending my discussion with the Captain and Commander Lyrr, I'll recommend you for it." He spun her around again and stepped away so that he held her by the fingers at full extension, and she swung back in. He held her from behind, one hand on her shapely hip, the other still holding her hand. Her perfume was delicate and alluring. He spoke close to her ear. "You'll do well, Lieutenant, I'm sure of it."

The sudden motion of the dance steps sent a rush through Taylor, and as she ended up close in his arms for just that moment, the whirlwind of emotions was heightened by his voice in her ear. It sent a thrill through her that left her near-breathless. "Thank you, sir," she said softly. "I won't let you down."

Taylor couldn't deny that she'd found the chief of security attractive before. She'd have to be blind or a full-blooded Vulcan not to. Though, she thought, even her mother would find aspects of Commander T'Kal to be very aesthetically pleasing. Until that moment, however, she hadn't truly felt that attraction. She allowed herself to feel the attraction, that moment that existed like a spark of static electricity, but she knew it would go no further. Still, it felt very nice.

He spun her in his arms with the music and stepped into a dip, holding her by the waist as she arched like a bow, her skirt whispered across the floor as he turned and whirled her over his hip and up, his arm outstretched upward holding hers, his other encircling her waist. He gave her a rakish grin as he moved again into a more normal step. He seemed to flow with the music, receptive to every nuance of note and phrase of the composition. Benedict laughed softly at her reaction to the dance, he easily got lost in music, and he clearly loved to dance.

Had Taylor not been dancing from a very early age and kept herself at the peak of form, she had a feeling she'd be collapsed on the floor. However, her love for dance and regular workouts, as well as a strict martial arts regimen, allowed her to keep pace, sometimes anticipating his moves, sometimes being surprised. But she kept up with him, and it felt amazing. "I don't think I've danced like this since the Academy," she said as he pulled her back in. "It's great!"

"I hardly ever get a chance these days." He smiled at her enthusiasm. "I attended an Arts College when I was younger, dance was a strong component of the curriculum." He twirled her and himself, coming back strongly so that she was once again brought close. This girl could dance! He laughed with the joy of it. "You are a great dancer yourself, perhaps we should do this every so often instead of the close combat drills...just to stay in practice." He was beginning to breathe hard now, she was pushing him further than the other dance partners had and he loved it.

"I'd like that very much," Taylor said with a big grin. "Dancing is an amazing workout, sometimes even better than combat drills. I started dancing when I was very young, shortly before I started training for martial arts. I started with Vulcan traditional dances. But that wasn't enough for me, so I started looking into other cultures. That's what really sparked my interest in martial arts as well. It all sort of snowballed from there, and here I am now."

It always amazed him. Vulcan physiology was so much more robust than Bajoran or Human, and she still had breath to talk as if the body movements she was undertaking were effortless. Once more he was reminded of Teb, she'd been the same. She had almost the same smile too. The music ended and he finished with her twirling off the floor, her skirt like a splayed out fan, as she gracefully stepped onto the dance floor again. Her skirt ended up whipping around his legs, they finished that close. He laughed almost self-consciously as he stepped away and bowed to her. "You can dance with me anytime," he grinned. "That was quite something." He theatrically wiped his brow with a white clad sleeve. "Thank you, Taylor." He kissed her hand Gentleman-like. "I need a drink...fancy one?"

"Please," Taylor replied, with a smile. "And, thank you as well, Commander. It was a lot of fun, and I think we managed to draw some attention to ourselves out there. And, I'd definitely like to take you up on that dance offer...you move very well."

Benedict chuckled softly as he escorted her from the floor. "On the contrary, I think it was you who drew the attention." He saw a few of the white-clad security detail and a knot of others grinning at him and the appreciative looks they were giving Taylor Bennett were hard to miss. "I think now though - they're scared to ask you to dance." He grinned.

"Well, I hope not too scared," she said with a smile. "I think I'll be ready for another dance once I've had something to drink." Her eyes quickly scanned the room and she found him on the other side, and it brought a smile to her face. She couldn't help hoping... She grinned back at T'Kal again. "I guess there may be a downside to dancing too well."

"So...Mister Finn?" he asked enigmatically, as he noticed the direction of her gaze. They arrived at the bar.

Taylor laughed. "I happen to find Tristan Percival Finn to be a very intriguing and fascinating individual," she said. "Not to mention drop-dead-gorgeous. I don't know if he can dance as well as you, and I still win all of our sparring matches."

"That's the first time I've heard a Vulcan use the term drop dead gorgeous," he laughed. "But he's got a sense of humour, of sorts." He waved at a bartender. "Water, cold," he ordered for himself. He'd already had a few drinks. Champagne made his head fuzzy and always gave him a hangover. "What would you like?" he asked Taylor.

"Water please," Taylor said. "I had too much of that punch earlier, and I think more would send me into sugar overload."

"Perhaps I should think seriously about transferring Mister Finn to Gamma shift," he grinned as he leaned against the bar. "That would allow you Alpha shift for...socializing? I know how hard it can be working Alpha/Beta shifts with a partner - you end up spending Gamma shift together when you should be sleeping."

Taylor laughed. "I'm glad you've blazed these paths already," she said. "Right now, whatever we have hasn't moved past the spending free time together, though who knows where it's going." She smiled wistfully, then laughed again. "That's a good suggestion, sir. It wouldn't do to have me coming on shift exhausted, would it?"

"It certainly wouldn't befit a Beta shift commander." He laughed. "And perhaps you should try the direct approach with Mister Finn. Believe me when I tell you that a man always responds to that...especially when it's a very attractive woman doing the directing. Some guys, and I speak for myself included, can be pretty blind about the subtle signals that we're supposed to pick up."

"Direct approach, it is then," Taylor said with a grin. "You know, there are a lot of very attractive people on this ship, both men and women. And, in those I've met it goes well past physical attractiveness. I'd definitely feel sorry for any judges if we ever held a beauty contest. The big trick is a lot of the really nice ones are already spoken for." She gave an enigmatic smile. "Well, except Mr. Finn."

"Then I'd snap him up, Ms. Bennett. Treat it like a tactical exercise, out flank him and find his weakness, then go for the kill. It always works." He grinned widely. "I know you have the weapons to take him down...and hold him down if you have to." He laughed softly.

Taylor laughed. "Thank you, Commander," she said. "If nothing else, my confidence is on overload."

He nodded agreement and saluted her with his glass of water. "To winning battles of the heart, may you be victorious." He laughed. He looked over to where the unsuspecting Tristan Percival Finn stood watching the dancers and said, "Go get your prey, Taylor - now, while he's not looking." He gave her another grin. "Let slip the dogs of war."

"To be or not to be," she said, then finished off her water, set the glass aside. "Thank you for the dance, Commander. And, for those we'll have in the future. Now, I'll go see if Finn is in any mood to dance." She gave him a grin, and then turned and started off toward Finn.

He watched her go. "Mister Finn, you're in trouble...a nice kinda trouble though," he said quietly with a smile. He started to look around for Lyrr and spotted her dancing with Salinger. He grinned and nodded, it was about time they patched things up.

---

"Social Drinkers"
By: Lieutenant Mark Thaine, Chief Engineer
Ensign Shirik Lektar, Operations

Location: Main Lounge, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.27, 21h19

***

Shirik made her way to the bar, looking for a drink after her dances with T'Kal, Farrell, and Kremer. She spotted a figure seated there, working on his own drink, and smiled. As she slipped into a seat beside him she inquired, "Lt. Thaine?"

The engineer looked up from his drink as Shirik sat down, his dark features forming an expression of surprise as he took in the fact that a very attractive young woman had just joined him at the bar, with a sparkling dress that did more than just highlight her natural beauty: it accentuated every aspect of it. "That's me," he said, trying to sit up a little straighter.

She gave him a warm smile. "We've met, but only briefly, on the planet. I'm Shirik Lektar, from Ops. Do you mind if I join you for a drink?"

Thaine shook his head. " 'Course not," he said, taking another mouthful of brandy. "Yeah, I remember you. The away mission...." He trailed off, thoughtfully for a moment, and then drained the rest of the glass. Someone had thoughtfully left the bottle, and the Chief Engineer poured himself another. "How's the party going?" he asked, trying to make an effort at conversation.

"Not bad, I'm enjoying it." Shirik gestured at the bartender. "A glass, please," she said, and looked over at Thaine. "If you don't mind sharing. I take it you're not here voluntarily?"

"What makes you think that I don't want to be here?" The glass arrived, and Thaine filled it from the bottle, neatly answering her question about sharing. "Careful," he warned. "This isn't synthehol." Then, as an afterthought, he topped up his own.

"You have a bit of an anti-social reputation like myself," she said, holding the glass while he poured. "And you don't look like you're enjoying yourself all that much." She brought the glass to her lips to sip and nodded. "Good." She took another sip and regarded him. "Do you dance?"

"No." He gave a her a suspicious look, over the top of his glass, as he took another mouthful of brandy. "Why?"

"Somehow I didn't think so," she smiled, taking another sip of her own. "But it never hurts to ask. I thought I might ask you to dance with me if you did."

"Well, I don't dance," echoed Thaine. "And even if I did, I don't think I could equal that last partner of yours." The engineer stared into his drink, thoughtfully, and then looked up at her, a neutral expression on his face.

"Dancing isn't a competition," she smiled. "But that's quite all right, drinking is just as acceptable a pastime as dancing where parties are concerned." She took another swallow. "I've been meaning to come speak to you anyway, things have just been so busy on board I never found the chance to come to your office. I wanted to volunteer some time, if you were in need of any extra hands in Engineering."

That seemed to garner a little more respect from the Chief Engineer. "Is that so?" he asked, rhetorically. "Alright, we can always use extra hands. You ever worked in engineering before?"

Shirik nodded. "I worked in Engineering for two years aboard the Wandering Spirit, also an Intrepid class. Although my specialties are computer systems, holosystems, and replication systems, I took the full Engineering curriculum in the Academy alongside Sciences."

"Now that we've got repairs out of the way, we'll be making some computer upgrades soon. Added security, that sort of thing." Thaine gave her an affirmative nod. "You're in."

She nodded. "I've been working on new encryption algorithms and security protocols for the computer systems on board," she said. "Commander T'Kal has my initial report on that subject." She gave him a smile as she finished her drink. "I'm glad I finally got the chance to meet you. I have a friend in engineering, and she speaks very highly of you."

"Good to know," said Thaine, who was filling his own glass yet again. He then held it out, offering a re-fill to Shirik. "Who's the friend?"

She slid her glass over to accept. "Calyca Boothroyd. She and I were bunkmates on our last posting."

"She's a solid engineer. And she's got guts." He nodded approvingly as he set the bottle down. "Good to know," he repeated again.

She nodded. "That she does." She took another sip of the brandy. She wasn't sure what else to say to this man, who was about as talkative as she normally was. So she settled for simply drinking in companionable silence for a time.

---

"From a Different Viewpoint"
by Lieutenant Mark Thaine, Chief Engineer
CPO Calyca Boothroyd, Engineer's Mate

Location: Main Lounge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.27, 21h30

***

The brandy had indeed helped the hour to pass.

Unfortunately, it hadn't done much for Thaine's sense of balance, and when he stood up to leave, he found himself wondering why his ship was listing to starboard.

"Damned potent," he muttered to himself, and then realized he'd drank the better part of quite a large bottle in just under an hour, which probably explained why he was struggling to cross from the bar to the lounge doors.

He did make it across, and even had the presence of mind to notice Lyrr and the Captain dancing in the middle of the dance-floor. The only real near-disaster came from a tray of drinks that seemed to appear out of nowhere, and the quick reflexes of the man serving them made up for Thaine's delayed ones.

The doors opened automatically for him. Thaine muttered a 'thanks' to them, and then wondered at why he'd just thanked a piece of machinery for doing its job. "Damn Potts," he said outloud. "His madness is catching." It was that or the brandy, but Potts was easier to blame than the drink.

"It's not a bad madness to catch though," Caly offered with a grin, approaching her boss as she headed back into the lounge. "As far as madnesses go. There's worse ones out there. Congratulations on the award, sir." She stopped in front of him, watching him a moment and added, "You alright?"

"I'd rather catch the Rigelian fever than whatever Potts has," answered the Chief. "And yeah, I'm fine," he said, rather defensively, as he swayed slightly, before using the wall for nearby balance. "Why?" He realized his words were being slurred slightly.

"I know this is going to probably ruin my reputation with you, sir," she smiled as she stepped up to his side and turned to head in the direction he was. "But I like Potts. Mind if I walk along with you?" she asked, still smiling and not seeming to notice that he was bouncing off the bulkheads. "Then again, I have rather a whacked out personality of my own, so what kind of judge am I?"

"It's a free ship," shrugged Thaine. "You wanna walk, that works for me." Straightening up, he set off walking, in what he hoped was a straight line. For the most part, it was. Caly joined him at his side, and he continued talking to her as they went. "See, I'm an engineer. He's a counsellor." That seemed to explain everything, as far as Thaine was concerned, despite obvious flaws in the logic. "Little secret, Boothroyd," he said, leaning in conspiratorially, and lowering his voice. "I can't stand counsellors."

"Thank you, sir." Caly matched her pace to his as they walked, touching his sleeve lightly if he happened to list in her direction or if he was in danger of running into the bulkhead. Neither of which she had to do very often. "Well, that's true enough," she agreed and leaned in a bit when he did. "Ahhhh.... I see... Well then, that makes it a wee bit difficult, hmm?" she smiled. "But Potts is one of the most honestly frank people I've met. And he's funny," she pointed out. "Maybe it's all in how you look at him... Well wait... Maybe not look at him, look at him, but all in how you view him." Her voice was quiet and the smile evident in it. "Would you care to know what I do when I have to interact with people I can't stand?" she asked.

"Avoid 'em like the plague?"

Caly blinked and then laughed lightly as she shook her head. "Oh no, sir... That would probably be the wise thing to do. I'm too stubborn and pigheaded for that. One of my many failings, I'm sure," she grinned and leaned in closer. It was her turn now to lower her voice and whisper conspiratorially. "I close my eyes for a moment, take a deep breath, and imagine them in the head, sir." She straightened and smiled at him, those green eyes of hers sparkling impishly. "Puts things in a whole new perspective."

"In the head?" He stared at her as they kept walking on, wondering if that phrase meant what he thought it did, or if it was the brandy doing his thinking for him. "You mean...?"

"Aye, sir," she nodded and grinned at him. "Indeed, sir. So you can imagine that there are very few people I can't stand. Out of self preservation."

Before he could stop himself, Thaine found himself trying the technique with Potts, and instantly regretted it. "Hell. I think you've made it worse," he said in annoyance, as they reached the turbo-lift.

Caly pressed her fingertips to her lips to keep from laughing and cleared her throat before she spoke. "Sorry, sir. Potts is one I'd avoid doing that with at all costs, sir." She cleared her throat again. "With him it's much easier to just perch on his books and have a nice chat."

Thaine shook his head in dismay as the turbolift arrived. "Easier to avoid him," he said, as he stepped in and turned around to face her. "He can't meddle with my life that way. You heading back to the party now?"

"It'd be my guess that he'd come find you," she smiled at him and nodded. "Aye, sir. Unless you need me for something."

He shook his head. "No. Thanks, Booter." He raised a hand in a farewell gesture. "G'night."

"If you're sure, sir." Caly nodded and lifted her own hand in farewell. "Good night then, sir. Sleep well." She smiled as the lift doors started to closed.

---

"Joyful Exertion"
by Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
Ensign Annikafiore Szerda [NPC] - Nurse
and Chief Petty Officer Sorien Case - Weapons Specialist

Location: USS Sulu, Lounge
Stardate: 57908.27, 21h30

***

Once Amy Reese and Roades Mouazer transitioned from their rendition of "C-C-C-Cinnamon Lips" to another cover song, Damhnait Sefton fled the congregation of rhythmic officers surrounding the Suluists' platform. The bangs from the front of her face had been brushed severely straight back, while the rest of her dark brown hair cascaded down past her shoulders in loosely curled ringlets. Searching desperately for some water, Damhnait wished she had changed out of her dress uniform after the ceremony, or at least switched into a makeshift skirted variant of the uniform. What had started as a discussion with Annikafiore Szerda about the Commendation for Medical Ingenuity that Damhnait had been awarded, and which Annika desperately coveted, had turned into Annika dragging the Chief Medical Officer onto the dance floor. Having spent the last five songs dancing with Szerda, the tall glass of water Sefton now gulped tasted like ambrosian dew.

"Impressive footwork, Doctor," Chief Case offered as he sidled up, his grin crinkling the corner of his good eye. "Are you certain that commendation isn't from an Orion Dance Academy?"

Obviously started, Damhnait blurted a, "Thank you," and set aside her water. It was almost alarming how empty he was to her telepathic senses because of his damaged paracortex, but recalling their past pleasant conversation put her at ease. Always having suspected her own sense of rhythm to lack a... sense of rhythm, she was sly when she told him, "I'll have to check the fine print for that."

"Congratulations are still in order," Case said, offering his hand. "You did a remarkable job, as I hear it."

"I did a job. I did my duty," Damhnait modestly replied, taking his hand between both of hers. As she shook his hand, she continued somewhat less modestly, "If you can cure one unidentifiable apocalyptic virus, you can cure a dozen. Which I have. At least."

"It's rare to find such a humble braggart," Case teased, returning the Betazoid handshake. "I'm just happy to see you come out of this none the worse for wear. It came down to me that you had a run in with one slightly overzealous Security Crewman."

"I wouldn't say none the worse for wear, but there are always constructive forms in which to channel the most negative of matters," Damhnait said, never getting too serious. "I think it healthily humanising for the crew to see that senior officers can attain joy just as bright as their own. ...But without the synthehol and flirting."

"I'm out of luck then," Case said, still smiling. "Allow me another proposition...Crewman Smith is slated for Commander T'Kal's Tactical Team and he's going to need first aid training. They all are...save for Sorg Jurell."

Her flighty party mood dampening, Damhnait softly told him, "I prefer propositions in writing. Especially if they're going to get me accidentally shot."

"Already done," Case said. "It's sitting in your inbox as we speak. And I'll see to it personally that Crewman Smith doesn't show up to any training sessions armed."

"I thank you ubiquitously. Do you make that policy for your own training sessions as well?" Damhnait asked with a half-veiled intense curiosity.

"I'm not sure I understand you, Doctor."

"I hear you're offering combat training to some of my nurses," Damhnait said, distaste creeping only along the edges of her words. "I do hope those sessions are unarmed."

Case smiled. "Ensign Reese is being trained in unarmed combat only, I assure you." His eye met Damhnait's. "Do I detect some degree of disapproval?"

"I don't believe that any benefit can be found in violence, and I cannot entirely comprehend how Ensign Reese, or anyone who has taken the Hippocratic Oath, could choose to learn how to hurt," Sefton replied in a measured tone that was backed by certainty of steel. Quieter then: "Reese in particular has, on occasion, easily slipped into violence when she has lacked focus under emotional stress."

"Self-defense isn't about violence, Doctor," Case said without hesitation and in a tone equally certain. "It's about discipline. You only hurt those who would do harm to you and yours."

"It may be wrapped up in perfectly rational justification, but it is still violence," Sefton asserted. "It does take a disciplined mind and body to learn this kind of skill, but it takes a rarer disciplined mind and body to control that skill, and never give into automated repetition of movement under stress or surprise."

"Well, obviously you've given this some thought," Case stated, nodding. He looked at Damhnait closely. "I assume you have some examples where Ensign Reese has acted violently since I began training her?"

"I wouldn't know," Damhnait answered, unfazed by not having more recent cause for concern. "For the past while, she has had little opportunity to do anything outside of Sickbay, and I do not observe Reese outside of her duty."

"And yet you still worry about her activities during her personal time," Case noted with a smile.

"I have reasonable justification of my own," Damhnait said simply. She didn't smile. This was no place to bring up Amy's outburst towards her son at the Skirt Party.

"Without a doubt," Case agreed. "If you'd rather I didn't engage in this activity with someone under your command, I'll respect your wishes. In my experience, someone like Ensign Reese could benefit greatly from the discipline that comes with learning to defend yourself. But you may know better than I."

"This is not an order or even a request," Damhnait clarified, speaking as a person rather than a rank or title or award recipient. "I am simply sharing a concern."

"Your concern is noted," Case said formally. "And it might be a moot one...I'm not sure I'll have the time once I start training Commander T'Kal's Tac Team."

"You're not getting away from me that easily," Annikafiore Szerda trilled, her face a little flushed from synthehol, as she clomped towards Damhnait in her thickly soled knee-high boots and a tight, shortly-skirted, silver dress that, by all laws of physics, shouldn't have allowed as much movement as it did. "I groped as many boys as I could, but I need to see more of your commendation ribbon. And I want to taunt the boys more. 'Hair up; morals down; too busy for you'. So it's dancing time."

Shrugging at Case, Damhnait quirked a smile and said, "Duty calls."

Case held up his hands in mock surrender. "Never let it be said I stood in the way of someone's duty." He smiled at her. "You've given me something to consider and I also appreciate that, Doctor. Again, my congratulations."

"Thank you," Damhnait responded to his compliment and his consideration of her concern. Just as Damhnait avoided her opinion of Case from changing for the worse and thus considered asking him for a dance later, Annikafiore grabbed Damhnait's hand, and skip-dragged her back to the dance floor.

Chief Petty Officer Case looked after the two officers as the smile slowly died on his lips. Certainly, serving as witness to other people's 'joy' was doing very little for his own. The longer this night went on, the more certain that truth was becoming.

---

"Captain's Dance"
By: Captain Matt Salinger
Commander Lyrr Tayla

Location: Main Lounge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.27, 21h30

***

Matt Salinger smiled as he approached his executive officer. She was standing to one side of the dance floor, watching those out enjoying themselves in a dance. Strangely, the scowl he expected to see there wasn't present. "You have the look of a woman who's not quite sure what to do next," Matt said. "In between dances, Commander?"

"Captain," she greeted with a nod. "I hadn't actually planned on another, so...not quite." Lyrr smiled briefly. "Are you enjoying the party?"

"I am," Matt said with a chuckle. "Though, I think it's more enjoyable to see everyone else enjoying themselves. This party is definitely doing well to help boost people's spirits."

"Then our imperative has been achieved. Although," she added, frowning at some of the more questionable attire worn by certain female officers, "next time, we should institute a dress code."

Matt nodded slowly. "I noticed that too," he said. "At least they showed up clothed though...for the most part."

Lyrr chuckled and gave an affirming nod. "I see that Lieutenant Tagliesh is behaving herself. She actually came to apologize to me this afternoon." Sighing, Lyrr shifted around to face Matt. "I'm sorry for what happened the other day. I let her get to me, and I should be more disciplined than that."

"She's very good at getting to people," Matt said. "Sometimes, I'm not sure if she even realizes she's doing it. I think things are working out though. Sounds like she also made amends with Ben."

"He never mentioned that, but I hope it's true...for your own sake, Captain. I know I gave you a hassle about your relationship with her...and I still may not agree with it...but I know you can't always control where your heart leads you. So..." She smiled tightly. "I respect your desire to continue pursuing a relationship with her."

Matt laughed softly and nodded. "Thank you," he said. "There are moments that make me wonder what I'm doing, but then there are those other moments...the ones that make me wonder why I ever doubted." He held his hand out to her. "Care for a dance, Commander?"

She chuckled and accepted. "It would be imprudent of me to refuse. And besides, I promised Ben we'd speak. He seems to think we are in a feud of sorts."

With her hand in his, Matt led the way out into the center of the dancers. "I wouldn't say a feud," he said. "But there is some sort of strain between us."

"We have opposing views on certain subjects," Lyrr explained. "But...I think the most volatile subject involves your position on redemption." She paused as they came together, though awkwardly, and began the standard dance sequence. "I still don't agree," Lyrr continued, "that many offenders deserve a second chance. But...admittedly, I've learned recently that in some cases, leniency is required."

"I think people deserve chances, especially chances to prove themselves," Matt said as they moved. "Everyone deserves chances."

"Not everyone," Lyrr stated with certainty. "I admit, some people may, but it's only those who acknowledge their mistakes and who have a genuine desire to change. But that's not always plain to see, Captain. That's why I'm hesitant to forgive in most cases. I need proof of the sincerity of their intentions before I place my faith in them. Call me cautious...and I'll likely say you're right. But I don't know how to be any other way."

"I understand," Matt said. "And sometimes old habits can be hard to change. I'm sure a lot of people would say I'm too trusting. Perhaps together we can balance each other out."

"If we don't argue incessantly," Lyrr pointed out with a smile. "You're dealing with a stubborn Bajoran female, Captain. I think you forget that most of the time."

"I think I do," Matt said with a laugh. "But perhaps I can remember it from now on, and we'll get along like we are now. You dance well, Lyrr."

"Hardly," she chuckled. "I've stepped on your toes twice already."

"But it was a delicate step," Matt said with a grin.

Lyrr narrowed her eyes in challenge. "I'm never delicate, Captain." Laughing softly, she took the lead.

"Perhaps not," Matt said with a grin, "but at least you stepped and not stomped. But the feeling's coming back in my foot, so I think everything's alright."

"Is it truly?" she asked significantly.

"Truly?" Matt asked. "Well, we'll have to see. I think we're moving in the right direction though."

Lyrr grinned. "Then would you care to lead, Captain?"

"Of course," Matt said. "As long as, for the duration of this dance, you call me Matt."

"Yes, Cap--" She grimaced, and both laughed softly. "I told you: stubborn."

"It's alright," Matt said with a grin. "I'm fairly stubborn too when I need to be." He gave her a grin. "Lyrr, I want to work with you to make our working relationship better. I don't know what we'll need to do to make it happen, but I don't like the distance we've been keeping. I want us to be a better team than we've been. And, I'd like to put your stubbornness to good use to achieve that." He grinned at her again. "Are you willing?"

Lyrr sighed. "I am, Matt. And I really don't think we have a choice, not if we want this ship and crew to prevail. We owe it to our officers, Matt."

"And, to each other," he answered. "Come on, let's move out where everyone can see us working together. It's time we started encouraging our crew together, and what better time to start?"

"Or worse," Lyrr quipped, "unless I can avoid your feet." She chuckled and allowed him to steer them towards the middle of the floor. It was the most potent symbol of unity they could provide for their demoralized crew, and it was a certain sign that at least the captain and XO were no longer battling each other.

---

"Our Own Little Gestures"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla; Executive Officer
Crewman First Class Rett Charla; Operations Crewman

Location: USS Sulu, the party
Stardate: 57908.27, 21h30

***

"Commander?"

The gentle tones and meek volume of the voice was unmistakably Rett Charla's. Despite the awkwardness of the other morning, Lyrr turned to face him with a ready smile...one that rapidly vanished when her eyes fell to the tray balanced on his right hand, covered by a cloth deep purple in colour. Lyrr frowned.

"Mr. Rett...I thought I said that if you were to attend this party, you would not do so as a server! Put that tray down...now!" She thrust a pointed finger in the direction of a nearby table to reinforce her command.

Rett smiled. "I am not serving, sir. I am delivering." He lifted the cloth from the platter with skill born of long practice. "Ardaly Cheth-Pri. On crackers. Courtesy of Sikara, and, for what it's worth, Ensign Farrell, who dared the man to do it."

Lyrr's grin was one of amused disbelief. The crackers were arranged in concentric circles, shrinking in size until there was but a single cracker in the center, laden with the topping of shredded cheth-pri that had been modified for the purpose of this dish alone. Instead of the dripping, light sauce used in the main course meal at the previous banquet, he had simmered down the glaze until it was thick and glistening; it was enough to act as a paste in holding the meat in place atop the crackers. Lyrr nearly chuckled in delight.

"May I?" she asked Rett, gesturing to the platter.

"The plate is yours, sir."

Gingerly trapping a single cracker between her thumb and forefinger, she raised the delicate round of Ardaly Cheth-Pri, while keeping her left palm hovering below to catch any falling cheth-pri. Savouring the moment, and anticipating pure, heavenly satisfaction, Lyrr slid the cracker into her mouth and chewed, slowly. There was a long sigh as she closed her eyes, and soon her mouth worked faster to consume the marvel of Sikara's talents. Before the contents were entirely swallowed, Lyrr raised a hand to her mouth to obscure it as she spoke excitedly, "This is wonderful! Prophets, Rett...put that tray down and taste!" To help him along, Lyrr gripped the edge of the platter with both hands and steered it towards the bar's countertop.

"I'm afraid I must decline, sir," Rett said, suppressing a smile as they reached the bar. "The fumes alone are making my eyes water. In that regard, would you like a glass of water, sir?"

Lyrr chuckled. "No, no of course not, Mr. Rett. Water only dulls the flavour." Curling her elbow atop the counter as she leaned against it, and protectively concealing the Ardaly from the rest of the party-goers, Lyrr motioned Rett forward. "So, tell me, Mr. Rett" --she selected another cracker from the platter-- "how were your friends after I left yesterday morning?"

"They appreciate the opportunity to speak to you directly, sir."

"Did they?" Lyrr smiled skeptically. "I would have assumed they'd be anxious to get rid of me. At any rate..." She sighed and popped the next cracker into her mouth, after which she chewed thoughtfully. "They won't be reprimanded," Lyrr admitted finally, quietly.

"Oh?"

She smiled tightly, and picked at the topping of another cracker. "They'll be on a probation of sorts...counselling, and they'll be required to take a course in emergency procedures...." Lyrr shrugged. "It's fitting, I suppose."

Rett nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you, sir."

"Thank me?" Lyrr shook her head. "Whatever for, Mr. Rett?"

Rett smiled. "For being the commander I believe in."

She was uncertain whether to be flattered or insulted at the thought of what his opinion had been of her before this moment. Lyrr exhaled a long, deep breath. "Well," she sighed. "I guess I still have a long way to go then, don't I? Young, hardly tested in this position.... I'm still learning, aren't I, Mr. Rett?"

"We are all still learning, sir. It's the speed with which we learn that makes us great."

Lyrr looked aside at the man. "And how am I doing with that, Mr. Rett?"

Rett smiled thoughtfully. "All's well that end's well, they say," he nodded.

She chuckled dryly. "An answer not quite an answer," Lyrr mused. "Are you always so cryptic, Mr. Rett? Or do you simply intend to make me think on that?"

"I must maintain my carefully crafted illusion of wisdom somehow," he said wryly.

"I doubt it's an illusion," Lyrr told him. "You can't fake the look of intelligence in your eyes, Mr. Rett. That is genuine." Smiling fondly at the man, she nodded her head towards the floor of twirling and gliding dancers. "Have you ever done that?"

"Oh," Rett said, glancing to the dancers, "never alongside the m--" he caught himself, "never alongside the majority of the crew, sir."

Lyrr chuckled. "So...you've done so alone?"

"No no," he scoffed affably. "With the. . .with the rest of the servants, sir. Peasant reels. That sort of thing. My wife was quite a dancer."

She nodded slowly, immediately feeling remorse for bringing up the subject of his deceased family. "Well," she said quietly and averted her gaze to the still full platter of Ardaly on crackers. "We should probably put this with the rest of the appetizers." Lyrr grinned. "I'll likely eat them all myself if we don't."

"With respect, sir," Rett said, the barest beginnings of a smile starting. "If that particular platter ends up with the rest of the hors d'oeuvres I'll be serving rather than delivering. You'd be countermanding your own order, sir. Shall I package them up for you?"

Lyrr chuckled and hefted up the tray herself. "And you question your own cleverness," she admonished warmly and turned away towards the buffet table.

---

"A Nice Kinda Trouble"
by Lt. jg Taylor Bennett
and Ensign Tristan Percival Finn

Location: Lounge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.27 21h30

***

Taylor Bennett left the safety of the refreshment table once again, this time to find the object of her attention. She glanced back at Commander T'Kal who gave her an encouraging grin, and she continued on. She found Finn leaning against a wall, watching the people out dancing.

Tristan Percival Finn, even though he didn't look like it, watched Taylor Bennett's approach from across the room. He gave a half smile once she drew close enough and turned to fully regard her. He'd only ever seen her in uniform and her workout clothing, and the sight of her in a skirt and top was unique. "I approve of your attire for the evening, my dear Miss Bennett." He gave her a flash of a roguish, teasing grin.

"I'm glad you approve, Mr. Finn," Taylor said as she moved to lean against the wall beside him. "You're looking quite dashing yourself. You do the Starfleet dress uniform justice."

"Not as much justice as you, by far," Finn answered. "You looked quite stunning in it earlier. Though, I daresay you're looking quite stunning now as well. Just wanted to clear that up, so you didn't think--"

Taylor laughed. "I got that idea from the beginning, Finn," she said. "And, thank you. So, are you going to ask me to dance or are we going to lean against this wall all night?"

"It's a comfortable wall though," Finn answered with a grin. "And, besides, I've got to live up to you and the commander out there, burning up the dance floor."

"Don't worry, Finn," Taylor said as she held her hand out to him, "I'll go easy on you."

"I remember you said that the first time we sparred," Finn said with a grin as he took her hand. "I still have the bruises."

Taylor gave him a grin and led the way out into the center of the dance floor. "They add character," she said. "Now, you do know how to do this, right?"

"Move in time with the music and don't step on your feet," Finn answered. "Or anyone else's feet." He slid one hand down to her hip, and adjusted the other hand until they were positioned where they looked almost like dancers. He noticed Taylor's smirk. She adjusted his hands once more and nodded. "Now...just move around?" He returned the smirk she was giving him, and began to as closely approximate the dance steps as he could.

"Very good," Taylor said. "Now, watch my feet." As he did, she started leading, carrying them both gracefully around the floor, both grinning foolishly. "See? Now you." As he took over their dance, she grinned at him. "Very good, Finn. I'll make a dancer of you yet."

"Just like you're going to make a martial arts master out of me?" Finn asked.

"Let's stick with dancing for now," Taylor said with a grin. "We'll work on the other miracles later."

Each fell into silence for a long time as they moved in time with the music. Without realizing it, somewhere in the middle of the dance they'd begun drawing closer together, until suddenly Taylor was aware that that Finn was very close, and his hand was warm against the small of her back, and she liked it. She smiled at him as she looked into his brown eyes.

"You sure you haven't done much dancing before?" she asked.

"Practically none," Finn answered. "But, I have a feeling I'll be doing more from now on."

Taylor grinned up at him. "Is that a hint, Mr. Finn?"

Finn smiled, and then as a way of answer, gently kissed her cheek.

After the stunned shock had dissipated and the glow had died down from her cheeks, she grinned. "I'll take that as a yes," she said. "And, no more of that, Tristan Percival Finn. If you want to kiss me, you're going to have to ask me out on a date, so it can be proper. Oh, if I told you my mother's theories on dating and kissing, you'd run. But, I'm not in the habit of letting strange men kiss me, even on the cheek." She held her hand up to him with a grin. "You can kiss my hand though, like a gentleman. But, even so, you're still going to be a strange man, very strange indeed."

"You're a demanding one, Taylor Bennett," Finn said with a laugh. "But, I find that charming in someone who regularly beats me up when we spar. Now, shut up and dance."

---

"Friendly Advice"
By: Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh, Chief Science Officer
Ensign Shirik Lektar, Operation

Location: Main Lounge, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.27, 21h45

***

Closing in on her like the predatory female she was, Xayella Tagliesh grinned at the back of Shirik Lektar, who had taken a break from alienating all the women at the party and seducing the smitten men. Her approach was heralded by a throaty chuckle, which stopped Shirik's raised hand on its trip to the woman's mouth, as she'd planned on consuming a cracker overflowing with some unidentifiable topping. Soundlessly, Xayella sidled up beside Shirik at the banquet table, leaning her hip against its edge. She was still smiling.

"Love the dress," Xay began. "Or at least what there is of it."

She paused at the sound of the chuckle, knowing whose voice it was. She took a moment to make sure a frown didn't find her face, and turned to finish placing the cracker in her mouth and chew before addressing the woman beside her. "Thank you," she said simply, her eyes wandering over Xayella's dress in turn. "You look nice tonight as well."

"Liar," Xayella shot back with a good-natured smirk. "You came dressed to arouse, Ensign. And you were doing a good job, too." Sighing airily, Xayella said, "I should be impressed, but I'm more grateful now that you have the ire of every woman in here instead of me, especially Lyrr's." Leaning in towards Shirik, she confided, "Commander T'Kal's drool...has it dried yet?"

Shirik quirked an eyebrow at her, wondering what it was she supposedly lied about. "You don't look nice tonight?" She shrugged and popped another appetizer into her mouth. "You had trouble dealing with women's ire?" she asked. She ignored the last question. Her initial suspicions had been correct, Xayella was here only to try to find some way to ridicule her, as she did everyone she met, it seemed.

"With Lyrr's?" Xayella snorted and dismissed the foolish question with a wave. "She's hated me since I stepped aboard this ship, but we've come to an agreement. I stop teasing her about her engagement, and she stops..." Xay frowned. "Well, not sure if she could ever stop being so temperamental, but it's possible." Shifting around to face the table, Xayella began picking at various appetizers, selecting others and sampling them, before grimacing and discarding them onto their serving trays. "So, how long have you been into T'Kal?" she asked casually.

Shirik could only smile faintly to herself. Xayella was like a breath of Drokar right here on the Sulu. Just like the Information Officers back home, seeking information, seeking weakness, ammunition to use later. "I don't see where that's any of your concern," she said lightly, turning her violet gaze to study the woman more carefully. What did she want, exactly? Was she trying to find something she could use to ridicule her later? Or perhaps ammunition to use against Ben or Lyrr. "Do you have any real friends on board, other than the captain?" she asked with genuine curiosity.

Xayella shrugged, tossing a glazed nut of some variety into her mouth. "I don't actively seek out companions," she told her, crunching happily. "Friends are a liability for people like me." She smiled knowingly at Shirik. "And people like you - people who always have things to hide. Am I right?"

"Do you always have things to hide?" she asked.

Xayella winked and replied enigmatically, "Don't we all, Ensign Lektar?" Without skipping a beat, she quipped, "Though in that dress, I doubt you'd be able to hide a thing."

"For the most part, I believe in speaking plainly," she said. "And in that spirit I can say to you that although I have little to hide, your reputation and demeanor alone is enough to make anyone hide. I do have friends on board, and I value them. I do not consider them a liability. Perhaps you should try it."

"That's alright," Xay declined, flicking off a leafy garnish from the top of a dumpling. "I've no use for one at the moment. And judging from your display this evening and the number of daggers being stared at you right now, it's unlikely you'll be making any more friends this night." Biting into the dumpling, Xay grinned broadly. "So, are you the reason Lyrr is so insecure about her engagement with T'Kal?" she asked nonchalantly, the words muffled by her full mouth.

Shirik shrugged. "Maybe not, but I expect I will." She plucked a deviled egg from the table and took a bite. "Speaking plainly, I believe the Commander's insecurities existed long before I came on board." Her gaze met Xay's once more. "Speaking plainly, can you tell me why you hate her so much?"

"Who said anything about hate?" Xayella riposted. "I just feel that she shouldn't be in a relationship where she's filled with doubt. If she's jealous now, what happens when T'Kal's forced to talk to a female officer on the bridge? How effective will Lyrr be if she's constantly looking over her shoulder to keep tabs on her man?" Shrugging, Xayella muttered, "Just saying...." And plucked a ripe, purple berry from the fruit platter.

"True enough," she replied. "But I sense a hostility behind your 'concern'. Why should you care if she's jealous, or what sort of relationship she's in? Unless...you have an interest in T'Kal as well?"

Xayella's laugh was a burst of hearty amusement that turned heads. "I have no interest in T'Kal," she assured her, still chuckling. "Don't worry, he's all yours." Reaching across the Drokari, Xayella snatched up a small roll to snack on. "And if you want him," she added, far more seriously, "you're going to have to move fast. He's almost out of reach."

Shirik picked up a glass of champagne and shook her head. "What I want is irrelevant... He's already out of reach." Her reply was quiet, and she sipped the champagne. "In that I do envy you, Lieutenant. You love a man who loves you back. I truly hope you appreciate him."

"I do," she answered, for once sincere. "But is that always relevant? You could think you're in love with a man, think you're perfect for one another, but in the end, there's someone out there better for you, and you won't give it a chance because of some foolish, monogamous notion regarding what a true relationship is." Xayella smiled purposefully. "Will you fall into that same trap, Ensign Lektar? If I were you, I'd never let that chance pass." She frowned with distaste. "I hate regrets."

Shirik thought for a long time in silence on Xayella's words as she sipped her champagne. The words had largely different meaning, depending on whether she was referring to Ben, or to Shirik herself. "You think I should go after him."

Xayella sighed and inclined her head in an ambiguous gesture. "Do you want him? And is it something that will make you happy?"

"It doesn't matter what I want, if it's something I can't have," she said, taking another swallow. She was reminded of her dream. She was very happy indeed in it. "No doubt it would please you if anyone were able to take him from Lyrr, wouldn't it?"

"What would it matter to me?" Xay asked. "It's not as if I have an interest in him. It's just some advice from a fellow officer." She smiled pleasantly. "But...it's your choice. Just know that if you need any tips on how to win a man, I have plenty." Raising a glass of punch in salute, Xayella turned and sauntered off, but not without a single knowing glance over her shoulder.

Shirik stood in contemplative silence as she drank her champagne. She needed no tips in that department, and even if she did, Xayella was not the one she'd turn to. She set the glass down and moved into the crowd, searching for another dancing partner.

---

"One of These Things is Not Like The Others"

Ensign Shirik Lektar - Operations Officer
Master Chief Petty Officer Kora Tawno - Ship's Purser, Chief of the Boat
Chief Petty Officer Sorien Case - Security Crewchief, Weapons Specialist
Chief Petty Officer Brayden Jance - Security Crewchief, Brig
Chief Petty Officer Patrick Riley - Engineering Crewchief, Transporter Systems
Chief Petty Officer Calyca Boothroyd - Engineering Crewchief, Weapons Systems

Location: USS Sulu, Awards Reception
Stardate: 57908.27, 21h48

***

Brayden Jance ran a hand through his beard, dislodging a few of the crumbs that had nested there. The Chief had done a fairly impressive job pounding some of the Bajoran seafood before he noticed a few officers looking at him with a little distaste and empty plates. Fortunately, the lounge was completely packed with warm bodies and after only a few moments looking for a place to lose himself, he found a small blue oasis of enlisted dress tunics in the sea of unfriendly white.

"Gentlemen," Chief Jance greeted, slipping into the throng of his peers. He nodded politely at the porcine Tawno. "Master Chief."

"Who you callin'--ah, hump off, ya poxy bastard." Riley jovially swatted the air in Jance's direction, realizing he was being baited.

Tawno made a laughing sort of noise--a short hacking bark deep in her throat. Or at least, everyone hoped it was a laugh. It was that or she was about to throw up.

"You missed a spot," Case said, not smiling. He rubbed a spot on his face corresponding to the crumb in Jance's beard. Brayden sent it fluttering to the deck, looking away from Case with an embarrassed expression.

"The fish is good tonight, eh?" Riley jibed, happy for an opening on Jance.

"Hadn't noticed," Jance said, running his hand through his beard again for good measure. "Unless it's not actually fish you're talking about."

"Oh ho," Riley said with relish. "There are some right ones here, and that's a fact."

Case stirred a little. His mood this evening was rapidly going south and his tolerance for Jance and Riley's bawdy sparring was nil.

Calyca Boothroyd spotted the gathering of Chiefs and her feet carried her over to their small circle. "Evening, gentlemen," she nodded at the men as her petite frame slipped into group. "And Master Chief," she added to Tawno. "Planning a fishing trip?" She grinned, green eyes sparkling impishly.

"I think Chief Riley was merely lamenting his lack of proper bait, Chief Boothroyd." Jance attempted a charming smile and took the short woman's hand. He didn't kiss it but did bow in semi-formal style. "I don't think you'll find me so infirmed."

"Infirmed?" Tawno asked dryly.

Caly blinked and her green eyes widened. She totally did not expect that... Hoh-boy. She was rendered speechless for several heartbeats as he took her off guard, and she blinked at him again. Then she started to laugh softly, her smile warm and eyes back to their impish rather than startled look. "I am truly boggled by your lack of infirmity, Chief Jance," she grinned.

"Don't be," Jance released her hand with a smile. "Chief Riley might be a little enfeebled by his advanced years but don't think it of all your peers." Jance glanced over the small woman, seeming to look for someone. "Though judging by your escort, perhaps you like them even younger than me. Pity the Sulu doesn't have a maternity ward."

Riley was about to bluster at Jance's dig on his age, but then followed Jance's look to the side of the room, and chuckled. "Bajoran mothers tend to guard their cradles, Booter. Be careful where you go a-robbin'."

"I'd never think any of you enfeebled, Chief. I prefer 'well-seasoned'." She turned her head to follow their gaze and spotted her escort. "I for one, am heartily glad it doesn't," she commented about maternity wards and hmm'd thoughtfully. "Rob it? Oh hell no, not me," she shook her head. "I'm just... Y'know, shaking it a little is all."

"I don't believe we've met face-to-face, Chief," Case said, intending to break up the sparring. He held out his hand to Boothroyd. "Sorien Case."

"No we haven't," she agreed and turned to look up at Case. "Calyca Boothroyd." There was a ready smile curving her lips and that impish sparkle still in the depths of her green eyes as she took the offered hand, her own grip warm and firm. "It's a pleasure, Chief Case. Please call me Caly or Booter." If she was affected or bothered by the scar on his face it clearly didn't show in the least. Matter of fact, she seemed pleased to meet him. In reality, she was pleased to meet them all.

"Very well...Caly," Case said, avoiding the even more familiar nickname. In Sorien's universe, people earned their familiarity. Boothroyd wasn't there yet.

"You'll find Sorien to be about as serious as he looks," Jance offered, crossing his arms and smirking at the exchange. "It's not all of us who has Commander T'Kal's ear...he has to keep things on a professional level."

"Oh, right..." She squared her shoulders and stood to her full five-two... Well, five-three with the pumps she was wearing, and it was rather comical the way the look on her face sobered and took on a more serious hue. Only problem was that it was totally belied by that impish and amused sparkle in her eyes. "I can do serious and professional," she told them. But right now she was actually enjoying herself despite her reluctance to come to the party in the first place. And beside, she was tough. She could take their good natured sparring and ribbing.

"Jance here still hasn't gotten through hazing me." Case jerked a thumb at Brayden but was still looking at Boothroyd. "I don't really see how he's going to get you on his schedule as well...considering his somewhat limited resources."

Caly laughed and glanced over at Jance with Case's thumb jerk, smiling at him. "Oh but I'm very small and don't take up much room on a schedule at all," she assured them and even made the appropriate motion by holding her thumb and forefinger a short distance apart. Her smile was still very much in evidence as she turned back to look at Case, green eyes studying him a bit curiously. "You look like you're holding up well though. So I'm heartened by that."

"I did say they were limited resources," Case mentioned again, almost managing a smile.

"Would you say they were infirmed?" Tawno asked, putting emphasis on the last clunky word. Riley snorted humorously.

Caly opened her mouth to respond to Case and glanced over at Tawno's comment. When she looked back at Case she was trying not to laugh at the Master Chief's question. "That's true. You did," she nodded her agreement. "I could try and inspire him for you," she offered. "Infirmed's a different deal though." A flash of gold out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she glanced up to see Shirik wandering through the crowd in their direction. She paused when she saw Caly in conversation with the group of chiefs, not sure she would be welcome in such a group. When she saw they were all people she hadn't yet met, she decided that was reason enough to approach.

"Good evening," she greeted them all with a nod, moving to stand near Calyca. "May I join this little gathering?" She had a glass of champagne in her hands.

"Aye, lass," Jance said, quickly snatched a flute from a passing server and lifting it towards the new arrival. His smile was broad and his mood jovial. "And you won't even need a demotion...provided you don't make a habit of socializing with your lessers."

"Aye, lass?" Riley gave an odd look at Jance's false accent.

Caly laughed and greeted her friend with a light touch to her arm. "Shirik, have you met The Chiefs?" And she said it like that. 'The Chiefs'. Like they were some kind of entity.

"No, I don't believe I have," Shirik said, her gaze studying each one of the new faces.

Tawno indicated each chief in turn. "Chief Petty Officers Riley, Engineering." Riley grinned and gave a sort of half-wave. "Case, Armory." Case only surveyed the officer with his single dark eye. "Jance, Brig." Brayden held up his glass of champagne. "And you appear to already know Boothroyd," she finished with what passed for a smile.

"And that," Caly indicated Tawno, "is Master Chief Tawno, Ship's Purser and our COB," she told Shirik. "Ensign Lektar, Operations," she added for any of the chiefs that didn't know who Shirik was.

Shirik nodded a greeting to each in turn, offering a smile to those who smiled her way. "It's nice to meet you," she said. "Are you all enjoying the festivities?"

"Yes," Case said stiffly. He broke out of the semi-circle of Chiefs and directed his one good eye at Lektar. "Sir, if you will excuse me."

Shirik looked at him and nodded slowly. "Certainly..." she said, suddenly feeling out of place. Was he leaving because she arrived?

Case nodded politely to Ensign Lektar and the gathered Chiefs before walking away. Riley opened his mouth to speak, but turned to Tawno to say it and was silenced with a look.

Caly watched Case walk away and wondered what she was missing, especially when she caught the look between Tawno and Riley.

"So," Tawno said to Lektar. "How are you enjoying the party, sir?" she asked, giving every impression of being totally oblivious to Case's exit.

Shirik watched Case go, and took a swallow of her champagne before answering. "Fine..." she said, her earlier good mood deflated somewhat.

"I wouldn't worry about that big ball of scar tissue," Jance offered, speaking to what they were all wondering about. "He's been in a bit of a mood most of the day."

Shirik nodded at Jance, but couldn't shake the distinct impression it was her presence that made Case leave.

Caly glanced briefly over at the chief, green eyes bright and curious. Okay, she was missing something. "I'm sure he's had a lot on his mind lately," she added in a half murmur. "Or something..."

Jance leaned closer to Caly as if to speak conspiratorially. "We all have a lot on our mind," he said quietly, looking around at the group. "It could just be standard party phobia but I'm thinking something about this little get-together doesn't meet with Chief Case's approval."

She tipped her head towards the chief when he leaned close and listened. At his comment, she hmmm'd softly and asked a quiet, "Any idea what?"

"So," Tawno said, just loud enough to indicate that the topic needed to end, as there was an officer present, "How are you feeling, sir? Back up to speed? Nothing lingering?" she asked, shunting the conversation toward small talk.

Shirik looked to Tawno, and decided to let the previous topic drop. She'd already made up her mind. "Yes, I'm doing much better, thank you. I've recovered faster than was expected. And you?"

"Well, sir. Thank you," Tawno nodded.

"Word on the grapevine says Ops and Engineering are going to collaborate on the comsystem troubles," Riley said off-handedly.

"I'm going to be doing some extra volunteer duty in engineering myself," Shirik nodded. "I'm helping work on new encryption algorithms."

"I've heard about the collaboration. Nothing official yet though," Caly added. "And I think the departments working together is good."

Everyone nodded and murmured assent.

"Bit of an engineer, are ya, sir?" Riley asked Lektar.

"I studied both Engineering and Science in the academy, and was an engineer's mate for two years on an Intrepid-class vessel," she said.

"Well, what are ya doin' in Ops, then, if ya don't mind me askin', sir."

Shirik shrugged. "It was where I was assigned. I assume that's where people were needed."

Caly had fallen into a rather thoughtful silence as the other chiefs engaged Shirik in small talk and she had to smile at Riley's question because she'd asked Shirik the exact same thing.

"How does an engineer and a scientist get assigned to operations?" Riley wondered humorously at Tawno.

"Good question," Tawno answered. "What do you think of it, sir?"

Shirik seemed to consider how to answer for a time before finally speaking. "I think engineering and sciences were full, but someone with my qualifications could be useful in operations, and moved to another department later if there is a need. Perhaps that is what the thinking was behind it."

"Sounds like musical chairs, only with departments," Caly commented.

"Sounds like a management issue," Tawno corrected, but nicely enough that it had Caly grinning over at her with that impish glint in her eyes.

"What do you mean?" Shirik asked.

"An officer like yourself, sir," Tawno looked at Lektar, "makes an excellent addition to Operations. Ops is the department that manages all the other departments. The officers in the department tend to be broadly trained so that they can understand the basic needs of each department. Having someone as thoroughly crosstrained as yourself aboard can only aid the performance of the entire group. If, of course," she added offhandedly, "you're up to it, sir."

"Here she goes again," Jance said to Caly with only a slight slur and an even slighter roll of his eyes. Apparently some of the champagne Brayden had put away was replicated alcohol and not mere synthe. "If you get her singin' praises to Operations, we'll be here all night." Jance looked at the Master Chief with a healthy air of good-natured belligerence. "Ops doesn't manage...it allocates," he pointed out, looking down into his empty champagne flute with a sad expression. "Next time we get a rowdy one down in the Brig, make sure you send us a couple of paper pushers to help us allocate their ass back into their cell."

Caly turned those impish filled green eyes of hers onto Jance and it was right then that she knew she was in trouble. Trouble, trouble, trouble. And it would be all Jance's fault for appealing to her already warped beyond belief sense of humor. It was a totally innocent look she gave him now. One she had a knack for pulling off believably. And even though she knew what paper was, she automatically leaped to the opening with a clearly puzzled, "Paper? What's that?"

Shirik rolled her eyes and gave her friend a nudge in the side. She knew that 'totally innocent' look all too well.

"Ask the jailer," Tawno grunted, jerking her chin at Jance.

"Something people used to write on," Jance said, snapping his fingers at a server with a booze-laden tray. "It was made out of certain fibrous materials...I think."

"Tree pulp," Shirik added. "We still have uses for it on my planet."

"Sounds very... Archaic and anti-trees," Caly smiled.

"Yep. Never heard of it," Riley said, not quite matching the ignorant tone.

"And paper pushers were pale and pasty effeminate office types," Jance continued fairly oblivious to the conversation turn, arming both hands with fresh champagne flutes. He saluted them with one and grinned broadly. "To Operations."

"And the drunkards we feed and clothe," Tawno added wryly, drinking heartily to Jance.

---

"And We Got Away With It, Too"
By: Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh; Chief Science Officer
Lieutenant j.g. Taylor Bennett; Security Officer
Ensign Ainsley Chambers; Counselor
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign Cristobel Sefton; Nurse
Ensign Sanat Vijay; Flight Control Officer

Location: The Party
Stardate: 57908.27 21h52

***

"Well who is the absolute most beautiful woman in dress whites tonight?" Farrell said, coming up behind Ainsley and standing very close. "My lady, that's who," he murmured, pitched just for her.

Ainsley smiled. She actually liked wearing her dress uniform, probably because they didn't have to wear it very often. She was about to thank Mason for his compliment when Xayella stepped up.

"Really, Mr. Farrell," Xayella drawled, "you shouldn't say such things to me with your girlfriend so near." She smiled teasingly at Ainsley, but in a shrewd sort of way.

"My lady," Farrell corrected Tagliesh with a smile. "I'm a long way from thirteen. Nice ribbons," he added, glancing at the new double white-striped blue rectangles on both women's chests.

"Now let's all see if I comprehend this correctly..." Cristobel began, once he strode over to the triad. With Shyla in the lavatory, his mind and eyes had wandered around the party until he focused in on his JJ324c away-teammates slowly coalescing. "We each received a Commendation for Excellent Service for the same away mission that resulted in you, sir," --he pointed at Tagliesh-- "getting stripped of your rank and title?"

"Temporarily," she added for accuracy's sake. "And I guess you could say this is a case of the ends justifying the means. We did bring to light material that helped Dr. Sefton discover a treatment, did we not?"

Almost imperceptibly shrugging, Cristobel replied, "Not disagreeing with that."

"With the fuss that was made over our mission," Taylor Bennett said as she slipped up to the edge of the group, "I'm surprised the lot of us aren't scrubbing deckplates. Or at the least, working while the rest of the crew has fun." She was holding a half-full glass of punch and wore a charming smile. "I think in the end, we did something good for the ship, and regardless of how we did it, our efforts were appreciated. And, looking back, I don't think we went too far out of regulations to get the job done."

Regarding Taylor, Cris enthused, "And, bonus, we didn't let anyone die on the planet. That's practically an award itself."

"I'm going to remember you all said this," Farrell said, smiling.

"Remember what, Admiral?" Vijay quipped, stepping into the clutch of officers. "Lieutenant Bennett, you look stunning this evening. Not that the rest of you don't, as well," he added hastily to Tagliesh and Chambers.

Xayella smirked. "Yes, I'm sure, Mr. Vijay. And what's this Admiral business? Mr. Farrell's ego hardly needs the inflation," she teased, tossing a smile in Farrell's direction.

Farrell chuckled with the rest of the group. "Allow me to humble myself, then," he said. "Lieutenant Bennett?"

"Ensign Farrell," Taylor said as she inclined her head toward him. "And, tonight, Taylor please. I left the pips and the communicator back in my room."

"I've actually been looking for a time to apologize to you. I was sarcastic and rude to you when you arrived at the planet to join us, and that was out of line. I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," Taylor said with a grin. "And, I apologize if I came off seeming somehow superior. I'd like to blame it on my heritage, for which my mother would kill me, but I took to heart the rumors and hearsay. You did well on the mission, even if you do prefer to do things in an unorthodox manner. And, whatever prejudices I came in with colored my opinion, but I'd gladly work by your side again. I think we all did well down there."

"Yes we did," Farrell nodded, extending his hand to Bennett, who accepted and shook it with a grin. "Yes we did."

"So," Vijay said to the group as a whole, "raise your hand if you'd like a drink."

All six did, and all six laughed.

---

"Encore Performance"
By: Ensign Kit Markham
Ensign Amy Reese
Ensign Kelzira Rax
Lieutenant j.g. Tchalla Mel'Chir

Location: Main Lounge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.27, 22h00

***

The set had finished and Kit Markham watched Amy as she approached the refreshment table. He stayed back, just watching, while she got a glass of the punch that was laid out there. She began to take sips of it, quenching the thirst that performing gave her. He closed his eyes for a moment, then stepped forward, hopeful that this would go well.

"You're doing great up there," he said softly as he moved to the other side of the table. "You sound wonderful."

"Kitty," she breathed in surprise, and nearly tossed aside her punch-filled glass to embrace him. Instead, she set it down hastily and scurried around to the other side of the table. There was no embrace, just awkward silence and shifting from foot to foot. Amy smiled ardently. "I didn't get to tell you congratulations on the commendation," she said.

Kit smiled, and then opened his arms to her. "I think you just did," he said.

Mouth twisting into a trembling grin, nearly a frown, Amy flew into his embrace, knocking the two several steps back. "You looked so great up there," she whispered, clinging to him tightly. "So proud...but so sad, Kitty."

As soon as she was in his arms, Kit's eyes closed while he savoured the feeling of Amy in his arms once more. He closed them around her and held her tight. "I looked for you when I was up there, but those lights they set up were blinding." He grinned, then looked up into her eyes. "Do I look sad now?"

Amy blinked away the film of tears and gazed up at Kit's bright smile. She giggled. "No...no you don't. I-I know Counsellor Scott told us to separate for a while, Kit...but that doesn't mean we can't still see each other sometimes...does it?"

"I think it does," Kit said. "Even with the trouble we have, she couldn't expect us to completely separate and not see each other until she's done. I love you too much. It's like...when I'm not with you, there's a part of me missing. I think it's alright if we see each other. It has to be."

"Well, if it's not," she quipped, snickering, "then we're in big trouble right now."

Kit laughed. "I don't mind being in trouble with you," he said. "Is...is it alright if I kiss you, Amy?"

She nodded readily, already closing her eyes and parting her lips slightly for him.

When his lips touched hers, a rushing warmth filled him. It was the feeling he felt every time he and Amy kissed or touched. It was the bliss he knew when they were alone together, troublefree. And, it was moments like that that made him want to fight harder than anything else to preserve what they had. The moments of despair dimmed to nothing when she was in his arms. "I love you, Amy Polly Reese," he whispered once their lips parted.

"I love you, too," she sighed, eyes still shut and body melting into him. "I-If you wanted...I could come back to your quarters later for a drink." Amy's green eyes opened to his, hers at once hopeful and eager.

"I'd like that very much," Kit said softly. "I've missed you. I know it hasn't been long but...but it's not the same without you there. I keep turning to tell you something, a story, a joke...and...and you're not there. But you're here now." He kissed the end of her nose and grinned. "Would you like to dance?"

Amy scowled at him teasingly. "When did you have to start asking?" Slipping a hand into his, Amy backed away from Kit, and towards the dance floor. "You really look handsome in that uniform," she told him.

"Thank you," Kit said with a grin as he followed along with her. "It's not as uncomfortable as it looks, though I doubt I'll make it something I wear for just lounging. Though, it might be fun to have the Suluists wearing a dress uniform for a performance. You look great, Amy. I don't think I've ever seen you not look great, but I just wanted to say."

"Thanks," she said warmly and again stepped into his embrace once at the center of the dance floor. Amy's head nestled atop his shoulder. "I missed playing with you," she sighed. "It isn't the same, no matter how good Roades is."

"It's hard to watch," Kit said, "since I wanted to be up there with you. Maybe we can do a show together one of these days. Just set up in the lounge some night, and play."

"That'd be really great, Kit." She turned her lips into his neck and kissed him softly. "Really great," she whispered. "I mean...if we can't be in the same room all night...we can at least hang out with one another during the evening, right?"

"Right," Kit said softly. "Do you think she meant we shouldn't spend any nights together? Would a few here and there be bad?"

"A few that will turn into every day?" Amy reminded him seriously. "I-I think we're supposed to have as little physical contact as possible...for a while, at least."

Kit nodded. "It's not easy though," he said with a grin. "But, yes. Just being able to see you, for a little while, is nice. To talk to you." He grinned again. "To get to know you again."

Amy smiled wanly. "Kit...did we ever really know each other?" Explaining further, she said, "Everything happened so fast. We made love the first day we met...and we were engaged only a couple months later. There wasn't really time for much of anything...but there is now, and we should take advantage of it." Chewing her lip and looking down, she added, "That means...if you want to see other people in the meantime, just to make sure we really are right for each other...you can."

"Before I met you," Kit said, "I saw other people. But...but if you need to see other people...I'll...I'll understand, Amy."

"No!" she exclaimed abruptly, then smiled and whispered, "No, Kitty. That's not what I was saying. I just meant that if you need to be sure about things, and go out with other people to do that, I won't ever blame you. I promise."

"Of the people on the ship I could possibly see myself interested in," Kit said, "two are deeply involved with each other, and the third appears to be quite taken with Ensign Finn. But even so, none of them could ever be my Amy."

She giggled and squeezed Kit ardently. Hunching forward, she lay her head against his chest and closed her eyes. "And no one, Kitty, could ever replace you. I'd never want them to."

"I think we're just going to have to fix us, Amy," Kit said with a grin. "I just don't see any way around it."

"Then that's what we'll do," she declared triumphantly and straightened upright to kiss him deeply, continuing even after the song had ended.

There were several moments of silence before Kit and Amy realized there was no music other than the song playing in their hearts. He grinned at her. "I'll buy you a drink," he said.

She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck to hold him close. "We can share with two straws. Then I really have to get back on stage."

"You wouldn't think me too odd if I sat up near the stage to enjoy the show, would you?" he asked as he slowly led the way over toward where the drinks were laid out.

"Of course not! You can even remind Kelli while you're there that she might want to see who's watching before she slips her hand under Tchalla's skirt."

Kit laughed. "I'll do that. Though, I have a feeling Tchi will be a little upset. For all her shyness, she still seems to enjoy trying to be as naughty as Kelli. But, I'll say something to Kelli." They stopped at the refreshments table, and Kit picked up one drink and two straws. He flashed Amy a grin.

After climbing onto one stool at the bar, and Kit onto another, adjacent one, Amy and Kit leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. Gazing into the depths of one another's eyes, they each wrapped their lips around a straw and drew up long pulls of the cocktail. It was an innocent, uncomplicated moment - the antithesis of what their relationship had been up to that point. This was the track they needed to head down if there was to be a future for them. Amy was definitely ready for that.

They sat in silence for a long time, just sharing their moment together. Each felt a deep contentment in the presence of the other, and it felt that that silence was helping the old wounds to begin healing. When their glass was empty, Kit gave Amy a smile...it was a smile he hadn't smiled for quite awhile, and it shone with a radiance of happiness that had also been absent. He took her hand into his, twining his fingers with hers. "If you're not busy, after shift tomorrow, would you like to spend some time in the holodeck with me? I've got a concert program I've been meaning to try out. Basically, we'd be there to listen to music and just...be together. And, maybe we can have dinner together too. If you're free."

"Why wouldn't I be!" She moved forward and quickly kissed his cheek. "I'd love to go out with you tomorrow night."

Kit grinned. "Then it's a date," he said. "And, wear something comfortable, yet wildish. It is a concert after all." He suddenly laughed, then hugged her tight. "I love you, Amy. And...and I'm feeling very hopeful. Very hopeful."

"We still need to give it some time," she reminded him, "but I think things are going good." Amy heard her name being called from the stage, and when she looked back, Roades was waving at her. "Damn...I have to go." She smiled wanly and hopped off her stool. "Are you going to stay and watch for a bit? I'd really like it if you did, Kit."

"You did ask me back to your quarters after," Kit said with a grin. "So, I'm going to be staying right here."

Amy squealed excitedly and embraced Kit, dragging him from his stool. "Come on! This next set's the best." And she pulled Kit along as she hurried across the dance floor. They came across Kelli and Tchi, who seemed ecstatic to find them together. "You'll take good care of him, won't you, girls?" she asked them with a narrowed gaze.

"We'll take really good care of him," Tchalla said with a big grin.

"Not that good," Kelli added.

Tchi glanced at Kelli and frowned. "Oh."

Snickering, Amy first kissed Kit's cheek, then scurried past her friends, bestowing kisses upon each of them in turn. With a brisk wave, she hopped onto the stage and retrieved her instrument. As the first chords were struck, Amy's smile shone like a beacon of the purest joy, and it was aimed directly at Kit.

---

"Let The Games Begin"
By: Lt. Saavar
Lt. Xayella Tagliesh

Location: The Party
Stardate: 57908.27, 22h03

***

Saavar walked purposefully through the throng of party guests until he came face to face with the woman whom he sought. Xayella Tagleish was perusing another snack food as he stopped before her. His Aquamarine robe was metallic in nature and glittered with reflected light. His hands were as usual thrust together inside the voluminous sleeves. The Vulcan's face was expressionless and well composed to face the woman who had caused him so much angst.

"Xayella," he said in greeting, nodding slightly in deference to her rank.

She smirked at the Vulcan and turned a cheek to him in a blatant slight. "It's good to see you're still alive, Saavar." Her voice was cold and hard. "Thanks to your negligence, I almost wasn't."

"I had feared that was your opinion," he replied. "You were in no danger, Xayella. I found a satisfactory solution that did not involve you - as per your orders. What intrigues me is your lack of disclosure to the captain. I do not know why you chose to remain secretive with your partner." He cocked his head in query. "Perhaps you secretly desired it. I know your dreams were certainly ardent...when you called my name in your dreams. We dreamed the same dreams, Xayella. They were fascinating." His grey eyes bored into hers.

"Shut up," she hissed, whirling to face him with slitted eyes. "Those dreams had no basis in reality. Do you understand? The only thing I desired was to have it end, preferably without nearly dying!" Xayella took a menacing step nearer, and dropped her voice to a rasping whisper. "The next time you're as negligent as you were, I will have your career, Lieutenant. Don't think I can't make it happen, because I can."

Saavar smiled. It was a slow smile, calculating. In a similarly low voice he said, "We shared minds, Xayella. I know you desired it. Does that make you angry with me? That you desired a Vulcan? I know that I desired you." He seemed very calm. "It was difficult desiring a female that I totally reject as a worthwhile individual."

Xayella scoffed and stubbornly turned away to petulantly pick at the offered spreads. "I never desired you," she insisted. "You're cold, arrogant - sure, you're almost pleasing to look at, but you're a Vulcan. What could any female possibly gain from sleeping with you?"

His soft laughter mocked her. "You cannot lie to me, as easily as you do to everyone else. Remember this, Xayella: I know you. Your authority and your ability to threaten lies only with the fact that you share the bed of Captain Salinger. You are incompetent, spiteful, arrogant and a failure as a senior officer. Your leadership ability rests on your sexual activity with a man of authority. You are derisive and divisive in your dealings with everyone you meet." He stepped a little closer at his full height and glared down at her with total disdain. "Your friendly advice to Ensign Lektar was vicious and calculated only to hurt. Perhaps I should speak plainly to the captain, or more aptly the Executive Officer...or T'Kal himself."

"About what?" Xayella smiled with her usual smug air as she slowly faced him once more. "All I was doing was giving the Ensign some options. If you're jealous, Saavar, why not just say so?"

"Jealousy is not the issue, Xayella," he said darkly. "Giving a junior officer ideas about involving herself in the relationship between two senior officers would be disastrous to her career, and have ramifications to the dynamics of the command team. It is plain to me that you desire to alienate the command crew so that your place beside Captain Salinger is not challenged. " His voice took on a definite emotive quality that sounded like suppressed anger. "Be warned, Xayella. Any further attempts to incite trouble will have an unfavourable outcome for you."

"Don't you dare threaten me," she growled, teeth bared in feral rage. "You've got a thing for Ensign Lektar, and you're simply afraid you're going to lose her because you refuse to feel. How could anyone love a man like that? I'd just be someone other than yourself to blame, Saavar. But" --her smile was affable now, yet held veiled malice-- "if you wish to play this game with me, so be it. You will come out on the bottom."

"I play no games," he said sternly. "I only make a promise. You have been warned."

Xayella snorted and haughtily turned away from Saavar. "We'll see about that, Vulcan," she muttered.

"Yes...you will," he stated to her back and walked away.

Pure fire lashed out from Xayella's emerald gaze; she flicked a pastry back onto its tray in agitation, and watched it flatten, expelling its filling from the force. Letting out a hissing breath, she spun around and threw her arms across her chest. Her focus now was Saavar, whose self-righteous, arrogant Vulcan ways she cursed in her mind. He'd challenged her to a match of wills and cunning, and Xayella was more than eager to play, if only to teach him not to meddle in her affairs again.

---

"An Amusing Ambush"
by Ensign Mason Farrell - Operations Officer
Ensign Ainsley Chambers - Counselor
and Doctor Ilan Potts - Assistant Chief Counselor

Location: USS Sulu Award Reception
Stardate: 57908.27 22h14

***

"I'll tell you what," Farrell twanged, turning the phrase into a sentence of its own. "Bringing Sikara on board was a fantastic personnel decision. He's amazing; try this dip."

He was holding out a carrot, with some dip, for her to eat. Ainsley looked at him with one of her eyebrows raised, and a small smile on her lips. She shrugged and took a bite of the carrot. After chewing she nodded, "You're right; this stuff is delicious!"

"Mercy, he does good work," Farrell affirmed, taking the next bite from the carrot. "And have I mentioned how good you look tonight?"

Ainsley grinned. "Probably." She picked up a carrot of her own and gave him a bite. "We're going to make the rest of the crew sick if we keep this up you know," she said with a soft laugh.

Mason shrugged and smiled. "You may be right. Tawno'll come over here and tell us to get a room. Ah, the temptation," he winked.

"Behave," she replied with a raise of her eyebrows and a giggle.

"Oh, there's something else you should try. Do you like spicy food?" he asked, turning to move down the table.

Ensign Farrell turned right into an unexpected brilliant burst of blue light that shot to his brain like a phaser blast. For a moment, he had the horrifying thought that he was still in the exploding corridor on deck seven, the autodestruct was still counting down, and he was alone--everything since simply a microsecond-long hallucination concocted by his subconscious to keep him from panicking. Then his vision began to clear, and as he attempted to blink away the blue orb engraved on his eyelids, he became vaguely aware of a small round shape scurrying towards him, some nasally words of reassurance that were nearly incomprehensible, and the feeling of cool metal being pressed into his hands.

When his vision cleared he noted that the item he held was a holoimager and that its owner, Doctor Ilan Potts, had abducted Ainsley to the dance floor. He also noted that she seemed not dismayed in the least.

Farrell stood speechless, an eyebrow raised, looking absently from the imager to the couple, to the people around him, and back. After a circuit or two, he shook his head to clear it, shrugged, lifted the imager, and went ahead and captured the blonde and the bald man for posterity.

"Allow me to extend most hearty congratulations on your commendation, Ensign Chambers." Potts was looking down at the ribbon pinned to her right breast and attempting to nudge out the last bit of daylight between them. "I must say it goes so very well with your eyes."

"Thank you very much, Doctor!" Ainsley replied with a large smile. She indicated the holoimager that Mason was holding a few paces away. "Have you been capturing a lot of people with your imager tonight?"

"None so lovely as you," Potts purred to the slightly taller woman. "We have an unusually handsome department, don't you think?"

Ainsley nodded. "Though I think it extends to the entire ship. The entire ship seems to be unusually good looking." She quickly looked around at all the gorgeous people dancing. "What about you?" she asked, looking down at Potts. "Your attire is unusually refined tonight!"

"A promise to the Captain," Potts admitted, looking down at his surprisingly nice dress whites. "The goal of this reception was to be a little more inclusive than the last get together. Are you feeling included, Ensign Chambers?"

"Very much so," she responded with a nod. "This party is fantastic." She realized suddenly that she was in such a good mood after the recent developments in her relationship with Mason that this could be the most boring party ever and she would still be beaming.

Potts caught the nearly dazed smile. "And how are things with your young Mister Farrell?"

"Are you sure you're not a mind reader, Doctor?" Ainsley asked. "Or am I just grinning foolishly enough that anyone could tell that I'm in love?"

"Deltans usually do have some degree of psionic potential," Potts informed Ainsley, executing a bit of a spin. "And I, of course, am no exception." He grinned at her. "But in this instance, I did happen to notice that you look exceedingly happy."

"He told me that he loves me!" she gushed suddenly, wanting to tell someone.

"That is exceptional news!" Potts said, just as enthusiastically. "When is the wedding?"

Ainsley's eyes opened wide at that. "Wedding?"

Potts stared into her preternaturally large blue eyes for several heart throbs before he realized her misgivings. "Ah, yes...forgive me, Ainsley. I sometimes forget that getting married at the drop of a hat is not necessarily the norm for everyone."

"There's nothing to forgive you for," Ainsley responded with a laugh. "You just surprised me, though Mason might run screaming if he heard that word."

"I can't imagine anyone having that reaction at the prospect of an eternity with you," Potts offered, dipping the Ensign at the exact moment the song ended. Potts stood her back up and both clapped with the rest of the dancers. "I will endeavor not to mention the M-word to Mister Farrell," he offered as an aside.

"That would be appreciated," Ainsley answered with a smile as the clapping ended.

"So am I allowed the next one?" Farrell said, coming up to the pair.

Potts looked at Ainsley with raised eyebrows as Mason handed the Doctor his holoimager. "Oh very well, Mister Farrell," Potts sighed through his smile. "But I shall miss my exceedingly lovely partner."

Farrell's beaming smile became a confused frown as Potts passed the imager off to Ensign Chambers. The Doctor squared off in front of Farrell, took his hand into his long-fingered own, and planted the other on the younger man's hip.

"I'll lead," Potts informed Farrell as the next song started.

---

"Swing Out Sefton"
by Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton
Ensign Shirik Lektar - Operations Officer
Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse
and Petty Officer 3rd Class Shyla Lynn Moreau - Astrometrics Technician

Location: USS Sulu, Lounge
Stardate: 57908.27, 22h18

***

Cristobel's dark eyes danced around the buffet tables, hoping in vain that visually recognising the foodstuff that Shyla had asked him to pick up would help him remember what particular item Shyla had asked for. After making a visual circuit of the entire table in front of him, Cristobel downed another half-goblet of syntheholic sour fizz. That would help him remember, or so he hoped.

"Nurse Sefton," came a voice from behind him. A familiar one, if not one he'd heard a lot.

"You can call me Cris. You could've called me Cris in Sickbay, even," Sefton playfully chided while he set his goblet down on the table. He had to grin broadly once he turned around, finding Shirik looking hale and hearty in her shimmering gold gown. In good-humour, he asked, "You didn't keep the medical gown? I think it might have revealed less."

"True," she agreed. She laughed at his comment. "Come now, do you really think I'd look better in paper?" she teased him.

"Y'know, my father once wore a dress shirt made out of paper," Cristobel enthused. "I might have even worn one tonight, but I spent every day of a semester, when I was thirteen, asking my parents if I could wear a dress uniform to class, and they always said 'no'. I have to make up for lost time. You, on the other hand, would dazzle slightly less if you did wear dull paper rather than gossamer gold."

"I think you look rather handsome in your whites," she observed with a smile. "Do you think I could coax you onto the dance floor with me?"

"I...suppose..." Sefton replied vaguely uncertainly to the completely unexpected proposition. His eyes drifted from Shirik until he found Shyla among the crowd at the other side of the room. He raised a hand to grab her attention, and used Federation Sign Language to tell her, Be back in a song. Looking back to Shirik again, Cristobel shrugged, smiled almost awkwardly, and then admitted, "Corran usually leads."

She grinned at him, a most unusual expression for him to be seeing on her face. "That's not a problem, my friend." She offered him her arm. "Let us dance, then."

Hooking his arm around hers, Cristobel had to grin again. "I didn't know you thought of me as a friend."

"I trust you, and that's a big first step. A major victory, considering you're Betazoid. I want you to meet my other friends, eventually. If you see Calyca Boothroyd or Sorg Jurell, do go say hello." She smiled, as she led him to the dance floor. The music was already underway, but that didn't bother her, as she moved right into the dance fluidly, leading for Cris.

His hand finding its place on Shirik's back, and the rest of him following her movements with a practised ease, Cristobel admitted, "I don't think I know what Sorg looks like. Caly, I do remember. She was bubblingly excited to see you, when I met her in Sickbay. She has got to be the most personable warp-plasma-gnome-warrior I have met in quite a long while. And quirky, which is delightful."

"Yeah, she's a real gem," she said with obvious affection. "It won't be hard to spot Sorg, he's her date for tonight," she grinned. "I introduced them this morning. I think they'll hit it off."

Cristobel couldn't help looking at the faces of every couple over Shirik's shoulder, and after some craning of his neck, he spotted Caly by her distinctive hair. "Ohhhh, Sorg's Bajoran," Sefton said the word weightily.

Shirik quirked an eyebrow at that. "Yes, he is. So?"

"My last ex-boyfriend is Bajoran," Cris started to explain, returning his attention fully to Shirik. "Atheist, so all that passion in the blood ended up fuelling other endeavours. And, well, you know what they say about Bajorans: the ridges aren't only on their noses..."

"Yes... I know..." she smiled mysteriously. "You know, I've been wondering about that. For as religious as Bajorans are supposed to be, look around at all the ones here. There's not an earring to be seen anywhere. A pity, too... I find them erotic."

"Greatly," Cristobel agreed, his eye glassing over for a moment of reverie. "I made Tuc wear one sometimes in private, but on a starship, I think some Captains don't allow them. The regs are a little nebulous in that sector."

"I hardly think Captain Salinger forbids them," she mused. "I'll have to ask Sorg why he doesn't wear one." She turned her gaze back to Cris. "So, what happened to Tuc? Why did you break up?"

"He didn't want a long distance relationship," Sefton replied. "That covers about half the times we broke up, including the most recent."

She laughed. "You broke up a lot, did you?"

"Four to six times, depending on who you ask," Cristobel blithely answered. Shrugging when he couldn't think of an immediate explanation, he eventually said, "I repeatedly found occasion to have to leave the Academy campus. My education wasn't terribly traditional."

"I imagine it can be hard to maintain a relationship when reassignments are handed out," she mused. That had been something she hadn't thought much about before.

The song ended, but was quickly followed by a livelier uptempo song. With Reese and Roades playing some of the notes late, and then catching up in the next beat or two --swinging the beat, so to speak-- the song could easily be identified as being written during a modern revival of swing dance.

Having pried herself away from Annikafiore, Damhnait Sefton sauntered towards Cristobel for the first time since the ceremony. Once she was within dancing distance of Cris and Shirik, Damhnait interjected, "May I cut in?"

Shirik looked over Cris' shoulder at the approaching doctor and smiled. "Which one of us are you wishing to dance with?" she asked half-teasingly, although she was relatively certain the woman had intended to dance with her son.

"...Either of you," Damhnait replied honestly, although the expression on her face revealed that she had only just then considered that she might enjoy dancing with Shirik.

"Well, then." She looked at Cris. "If you don't mind...?"

"Go ahead, please," Cristobel encouraged.

Clad in a white and grey dress uniform of her own, Damhnait took up the position that the swing music demanded, placing her left hand on Shirik's right shoulder, while holding her right arm out and down, until Shirik mirrored her left arm, allowing Damhnait to press their fingertips together. Once their fingers touched in place, Sefton led the first step, hold, step, hold, rock, hold. Shirik moved into the dance easily, relaxed and enjoying herself.

"It is immeasurably gratifying to see that you're not wheezing," Damhnait shared beamingly, the jaunty dance sending the loose ringlets of her dark hair bouncing against her shoulders. "Though, I must strongly advise you take a rest after this song."

"It's very gratifying to be able to breathe and speak again," she agreed with a smile as she bounced along with the doctor. "Oh? Why? Have you been watching me dancing all evening?"

"No. I've been dancing all evening. This particular song has quite a brisk tempo, though; you should rest after it," Damhnait suggested more strongly, between controlled breaths, without condescending.

Shirik chuckled. "Actually, Doctor, I can say I feel better than I have in years. Whatever you did, it's working very well indeed. But I will rest."

"I knew there had to be a smart girl under the stubborn veneer," Sefton laughed as well.

"Who said it's a veneer?" she smiled.

"Not in the sense that it's artificial," Damhnait clarified. "It is simply the first thing one might see."

"Ah, true," she agreed. "I do take pride in my smarts, though." She smiled.

"Must be how you went and got yourself commended."

Her smile faded. "Yes, well... I don't feel I deserved it. Especially when the man who saved my life didn't get one. All I did was punch in some code on a PADD while I was laying in bed bored in sickbay."

"I wouldn't think on it much: being with or without a commendation. Doesn't mean anything compared to the deeds done," Damhnait told her, but would have sounded more sagely if her speedy words had not been disjointed by the sharp breaths needed to keep up with the pace of the dance.

Shirik only nodded in answer, concentrating on keeping up with the steps. "You're a good dancer," she observed.

"Says the woman who doesn't know what a swing dance is supposed to look like," Damhnait retorted self-depreciatingly, but with complete mirth.

Shirik laughed. "True, but still...." At least Damhnait wasn't stepping on her toes like Saavar had.

"I can only enjoy it by not concerning myself much with technique or style or rhythm. Otherwise, my perfectionism would arise, and there'd be no time for viral study, what with needing dance classes."

"That's how you're supposed to enjoy dancing, Doctor. By doing it, not thinking about it." She smiled.

Without a chance for either of them to think about it, Damhnait's raised their outstretched arms, and gave Shirik a spin. Taken offguard by the move, Shirik squeaked slightly in surprise, and then laughed. "Exactly."

Damhnait kept quiet for the rest of the song, to grinningly focus on keeping her breathing steady and controlled, while trying out the rest of her half-remembered swing dance step repertoire -- most of which didn't resemble anything that the rest of the dancers were doing. She did join in with the other dancers, though, when the song ended and some of them started clapping for the Suluists.

Shirik really didn't care if they were out of step with the others, she was enjoying the dance anyway, and the company, too. Out of all the female officers on board, Dr. Sefton was the only one she truly respected. She stood beside her as she politely clapped as well.

"Thank you for the dance," Damhnait nodded to Shirik.

"And you, Doctor." She nodded in return. "And I forgot to tell you earlier, but you do look very impressive in your dress uniform."

"And I'm not even wearing my other awards," Damhnait said with faux-bashfulness. In fact, having insight into the points of view of the people around her, Damhnait's self-image tended to be quite grounded in reality -- no better, no worse -- and she was pleased with reality. As Sefton became mentally aware, Shirik was quite pleased with Damhnait's reality as well. "Of course, it is practically pointless to point out that you are standing out among both the officers in dress uniforms and those in personal garbs of their own."

Shirik inclined her head in acceptance of the compliment. "Thank you." She smiled.

"If you will excuse me, I should go find my son. Do have a splendiferous evening," Damhnait genially told Shirik.

"You too," she smiled, nodding her farewell and heading back to the bar for some more refreshments.

Cristobel, meanwhile, had returned to the buffet table, finding himself still unable to recall what Shyla had asked him to pick up, and none of Shyla's surface thoughts appeared to be about the snack item in question. As such, Sefton loaded up half-servings of everything that would fit on a single plate, and found his way back to Shyla to present it to her.

"What is this, Cris?" Shyla asked, her face screwing up with distaste at the offered plate. "You flash a half-dozen obscene gestures at me, grab a Princess for a dance while I play wallflower, and you don't even bring back a single crab puff? Are you asking me to move out?"

"Uhm...they didn't have crab puffs?"

---

"Turnabout"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla; Executive Officer
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer

Location: USS Sulu, the party
Stardate: 57908.27 22h26

***

"Commander," Farrell greeted, settling into a chair at her table and eyeing her plate of snacks. "How are you?"

"Fine," Lyrr answered warily, her eyes sizing him up with scrutiny. She instinctively pulled the plate she'd made of Ardaly on crackers towards her as his gaze again dropped to them. "Shouldn't you be dancing or...mingling? Isn't that what you social types do?"

"It is," he nodded, smiling mischievously.

Lyrr narrowed her eyes with increasing suspicion. "Then...what are you doing here? Did one of your prospective paramours storm off in a tantrum and leave you standing alone on the dance floor?" Her smirk fell into place right on cue.

"Not yet," he smirked back. "Would you like to?"

Her eyebrow shot upwards sharply. "Like to...what, Ensign?"

"Storm off in a tantrum and leave me standing alone on the dance floor," Farrell said casually, swiping a cracker.

Lyrr gaped and reflexively - spurred by her Ardaly possessiveness - shot out a hand to retrieve the stolen appetizer. Farrell grinned and held it above his head, out of reach. Her eyes narrowed viciously. "What do you think you're doing? There's an entire tray of them on the buffet table; I hardly think you need to eat that one!" Lyrr half-lifted from her seat and lunged for the his hand, but only managed to graze his forearm. Glancing around hastily to ensure no one had witnessed her embarrassing show of desperation, Lyrr cleared her throat and again took her seat. "Give. It. Back," she told him firmly.

"I know there's a tray of them on the table. See that cluster of people over there?"

Lyrr glanced aside hesitantly, then more fully at the circle of officers huddled around an object of interest upon the ground. "What's going on?" she asked Farrell.

"They're standing around Lieutenant Flummux. He ate one, and now they're trying to revive him." Farrell popped the morsel into his mouth with relish and chewed heartily. "Damn, these are good."

Lyrr shook gently, and when she faced Farrell again, she was laughing. "That was your doing, wasn't it? Is this just because you wanted a dance?"

"You looked lonely, what can I say?"

"Then you're not very observant at all, Ensign," she retorted. "So is this a pity request, then?"

"Pity? You?" Farrell asked with feigned shock. "Never. Do I need to get on a knee?"

"What?" Lyrr sputtered, and shot upright from her seat before he could think to do so. "One dance," she told him hotly. "Then will you stop pestering me?"

"Absolutely," he responded, rising and smiling. "Commander," he offered her his hand. "May I have this dance?"

Lyrr suppressed an eyeroll and laid her palm onto his. "For the first and last time," she answered. "And don't try any intricate steps. I'm a beginner."

"Thank you for warning me," he said as the next song began and they walked to the floor. He swept her gently into the classic opening position, and considered the music for a moment. "Do you know the retamba?"

"I've seen it performed," she replied warily. "Why? You know Bajoran dances?"

"A couple," said Farrell. "Can you do it?"

"Can?" Lyrr shrugged. "I can try. Do I want to?" She smirked. "A different question entirely." Farrell decided the question for her as he launched them into the beginning sequence of steps. Lyrr, off-guard, stumbled into Farrell, but the arm around her waist steadied her. Blushing, she re-established the starting distance between them and let Farrell lead on. "Slow down," she told him distractedly as she kept watch of her footing.

"Don't look down," Farrell murmured, his voice soft and encouraging. "Watch me. Retamba's a pattern with a turn to the left at the end. Think your feet into it. Don't try and glare 'em into submission."

"As I do the crew?" Lyrr asked with only a touch of sarcasm. At least the comment brought her eyes up towards his, if only to probe him visually. "How am I doing now?" The question was rife with hidden meaning.

"Just fine," he said, matching her tone. "You ought to do this more often."

Lyrr smiled wryly, and glanced down briefly as they headed into a turn. "Trust me, Ensign," she answered, "I only do this when the situation warrants it. People don't change often and certainly not over night."

"And people like you and I wouldn't have it any other way, I imagine," he quipped, but pitched solely for her.

"Oh?" Lyrr's eyebrow peaked skeptically. "Weren't you the one who suggested I show a little more empathy and a little less resentment? Are you now saying I'm fine just the way I am?"

"I don't recall suggesting that," Farrell shook his head as they turned again. "But I suppose one or the other of us may have been drinking again." He carried on before she could respond. "Change doesn't come easy to either of us, I imagine."

"Are you calling me stubborn, Mr. Farrell?" At his answering smile, Lyrr chuckled. "And I would say you are correct."

"I'll have to write this date down," Farrell said wryly.

Lyrr craned her neck to search Farrell's eyes. "And why is that, Ensign?"

"This is the day you let me be right," he whispered.

Smiling gently, Lyrr relaxed slightly against Farrell and answered, "This is the first time you have been."

Farrell laughed aloud, genuine and full, though his steps did not falter, and they turned again.

"I imagine you haven't heard yet," Lyrr mentioned after a time, all humour vanishing from her expression. "We won't be pursuing any punishment for your involvement in the events of Stardate 57908.20."

"My involvement?"

"You shot a group of officers, Ensign, or have you forgotten that?" Suspecting their short moments of amity were fading fast, Lyrr stiffened and consciously increased the physical distance separating them. "Your actions may have been radical...but in that situation, they were called for."

"Oh, that," Farrell said, reciprocating her move toward a more formal stance. "Well, thanks."

"You did the right thing," she explained. "There's no reason to punish an officer who hasn't faulted." Lyrr shrugged and lowered her eyes to break his gaze. "That's all there is to it, really," she said as they went into another turn.

"While I've got you here," he said quietly after a moment. "What's going to happen to the rest of them?"

"Their fates have been decided as well." Noting his impatient sigh, Lyrr smiled flatly and added, "They'll have mandatory counselling and complete a course in ship protocol. I think, considering the situation, that is what will do them the most good."

"Not that it matters, but I agree."

Lyrr snorted. "Well...that's certainly a first. Have you grown more reasonable during your tenure here, or have I become far more lenient?"

"What are you talking about?"

She sighed. "You never agree with me, Farrell. In fact, most of the time I think you disagree to drive me to madness." Shrugging, she finished, "That you admit to concurring with my decision is certainly shocking." Lyrr smiled. "Don't you agree?"

"Oh yes," Farrell quipped.

Shaking her head and laughing softly, she backhanded his chest and muttered, "Liar."

"Generally, but not tonight," he murmured back with a smile.

"And generally, I'd find you obnoxious," Lyrr quipped, "but tonight, you're almost tolerable." She smiled easily and returned her hand to his shoulder, which slid down to deliver the slightest, amiable pat upon his back. She doubted they could ever truly be friends, but at least they had proven on many occasions that civility was within their capabilities.

And they made the final turn as the song wound to a close.

---

"There Are Several Different Kinds of Dancing"
By: Lieutenant (JG) Nathalie Gui - Security Officer
Ensign Mason Farrell - Operations Officer

Location: Main Lounge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.27, 22h31

***

"Care to dance, Ensign?" Nathalie asked, touching her hand to Farrell's shoulder.

She smiled as he turned and faced her. Not having received an award or the like herself tonight Gui was dressed in a long dark blue dress of crushed velvet that stopped at mid-ankle; the slightest hint of leg showed in a cut in the skirt that stopped just below her right knee. The dress' top covered her upper form completely, save for her arms, shoulders, and upper back. Her hair was down in wavy curls and Nat wore a simple silver bracelet on her wrist, small teardrop shaped sapphire earrings hung from her ears.

"Anytime, Nat, my sweet," Farrell quipped mischievously, and listened for the band. "Do you swing?"

"Do I ever turn down a challenge?" she replied, grinning impishly.

"What was I thinkin'?" Farrell quipped, sweeping her onto the floor as the music whipped into a pounding drum-driven rhythm line beneath snarling trumpets.

Nathalie laughed as her friend swept her onto the dance floor and quickly fell into step in an attempt to keep up. "I didn't you know dance!"

"All my life," he grinned, spinning her away from him and back in for a dip.

"I can tell," she replied as he pulled her close. The dance was a high energetic dance, but fun nonetheless. "I've been meaning to apologize to you..."

"Oh?"

"For Vijay's and I's near reenactment of World War III," she exclaimed before Farrell spun her away and pulled her back in again.

"It happens," Farrell quipped. "Sanat feels bad about it."

"Two people always leap at each other's throats given the opportunity?" she deadpanned. Nat caught herself by Farrell's shoulders as the two began performing another intricate dance step. "I'm just confused by this...relationship or whatever the hell you want to call it between the two of us."

"You're not alone."

"Always knew you would take me for a wild ride," Nathalie quipped as Mason ended the dance.

"You wouldn't have it any other way, I imagine," Farrell retorted.

"I don't know about you but I need a drink. Join me?" Gui asked.

"Absolutely."

Gui and Farrell stood at the bar, each drinking a glass of punch, Nathalie munching on an ice cube as she talked. "...after the way we acted on the Holodeck I have no clue how I'm going to work myself out of this mess. Have you talked to Sanat at all?"

"A little," Farrell shrugged.

"What did he have to say?" she asked as she took another swig of punch.

"Not much, really. He's down about it, that's for certain." He sipped his punch. "Do you want me to do something?"

"No, I want to know if you think I should or shouldn't do something."

Farrell pondered that a bit. "I'd say no. Give it some time. I'll talk to him a little, and see what he wants to do. Give me a few weeks to ease into it, though."

Nathalie contemplated Mason's words for a moment and nodded. That course of action seemed to be her best option considering how things went with Sanat before when it came to the two of them trying to apologize. "Yeah you're right, I think we both need time to simmer down, so care for one more dance?" she asked, smirking devilishly.

Farrell grinned. "You betcha."

---

"Snack Table Small Talk"
By: CPO Calyca Boothroyd, Engineering
Ensign Mason Farrell, Operations

Location: USS Sulu, Awards Party
Stardate: 57908.27, 22h50

***

Caly wove her way through the crowd and managed to reach the snack table without getting lost or side tracked. She grabbed a plate and began placing a few tidbits on it, glancing around at those nearby and spotting at least one person she'd not met but heard about. "Congratulations on your most recent award, Ensign Farrell," she smiled at the man, noting the other commendations displayed on his jacket.

"Well thank you, ma'am," Farrell said, smiling back and giving an ever-so-slight bow. "We haven't met. Mason Farrell."

"No we haven't. Calyca Boothroyd," she grinned and responded with a bow of her head. "It's a pleasure. And it seems commendations aren't a stranger to you. I think that's commendable in an officer. If you'll pardon the horrible pun." Green eyes sparkled impishly.

"I've heard worse," Farrell said knowingly. "So, came aboard at Bajor?"

"Just before the Wormhole, sir," she told him. "Have you been on the Sulu long?"

"Since a couple of weeks before Bajor. Settling in all right? How are the chiefs treating you?"

"Aye, I am. A little hectic there for a wee bit but things are calming nicely now," she told him and glanced over to where the group of chiefs had been earlier. "The Chiefs? Oh, welcoming me with open arms and pearls of wisdom, sir," she grinned.

"Pearls of wisdom," Farrell nodded with mock sagacity. "Riiight."

Caly grinned and nodded. "Indeed. And all wonderfully helpful, of course. Things calming down for your bunch, sir?"

"More or less. The near-death experience was hard on people. Most of the Ops staff is young, right out of the academy, and we had some breakdowns. But we'll work it out."

She sobered a bit and nodded. "Aye, sir. When people are faced with their own mortality it changes the way they see things, and it is hard to adjust to that sometimes," she agreed. "The young are resilient though, if unseasoned. But that's not always a bad thing. And it's how we learn. Experience is the best teacher after all." The smile she gave him was full of encouragement. "Aye, sir. It'll work out. I have faith in that."

Farrell nodded. "How about Engineering? You had four people get in trouble, too. How are you folks readjusting?"

"Cautiously and slowly," she smiled a little. "We have the same thing going for us as you folks do. Dedicated people. And dedicated people can overcome anything. All they need is a little inspiration."

"Ah yes. Inspiration." Farrell selected another puff of some sort and put it on his plate. "What did you think of the captain's speech?"

Caly cast a sidelong glance at Farrell and his question and she couldn't help smiling. "Well, sir..." She added a few things on the plate she had and glanced at him again before turning to face him squarely. "I think he sounded positive and encouraged. Sometimes it's not so much what you say, but the way you say it. Afterwards... Well, afterwards I felt encouraged... In here..." She rested a hand on her solar plexus and smiled. "And hopeful. Two things I think make a good solid foundation."

"Agreed," Farrell said, eating a canapé. "He said what needed to be said."

"Indeed. And what he should have said," she added with another smile. "I saw some people nodding their heads, which is good. I think..." she started and her voice turned, not cautious, but she did speak her words clearly and concisely so there would be no mistaking her intent, and that was that she supported the Captain. "That after a crisis, when wounds are still fresh, it's better to use a healing salve instead of pouring salt in them. All in all... The Captain has a good bedside manner. Er... So to speak," she added with a smile.

He smiled back again. "You may never be so right again, Chief."

"Calyca. Or Caly or Booter, sir," she smiled and watched him for a moment. "Sometimes I think it's easier to focus on the negative. I'm not sure why that is precisely. Perhaps it has to do with our need to fix things. That whole - 'squeaky wheel gets all the oil', thing. Me? I'm sort of a positive thinker. All in all... I think we'll be just fine, sir."

"I think so, too," Farrell said slowly, as though making sure those words were clearly heard and understood.

"I'm glad, sir," she smiled and leaned in to speak a bit quietly. "It's important what you and the other officers think."

"Yes it is," he replied, glancing around and leaning in himself. "In fact, are you sure you want to be this close? It's important what other officers think, after all."

"My whacked out logic has preceded me and you're afraid I'll taint your reputation, sir?" She grinned at him impishly.

"You won't taint mine," he said meaningfully.

"And you won't taint mine, sir," she replied, just as meaningfully and with a little smile of encouragement.

Farrell scrutinized her for a few long moments. "Booter, you say?"

"Aye, sir," she nodded. "And might I say that it's been a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"And you, chief," Farrell said. "I might even call you Booter after a while. I like that."

Caly's laugh was delightful and the infectious sort. "Feel free, sir. Easier than hollering out 'Boothroyd'."

He grinned. "Have a good night, chief."

"You too, sir." She grinned back and after a moment, the two went their separate ways.

---

"The Last Dance"
By: Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal
Lieutenant Brennyn Scott

Location: The Party
Stardate: 57908.27 22h57

***

Benedict T'Kal drank a toast to Taylor Bennett, as the gathering security officers had decided to start a drinking game, and as she'd won an award, she was the first toast. He left them to it after that, knowing full well that it wouldn't stop until the early hours.

The party was lively, and as he stepped through a gap in a knot of officers he spied Tayla dancing with Ensign Farrell. She was actually smiling. He crossed his arms and stared at the two, not much liking them taking a turn on the floor, but he had to admit he'd danced with Shirik and that might even it out some.

He looked away just as a familiar form stood beside him. He looked down slightly at her and smiled warmly. "Brennyn." He released his crossed arms and turned fully to face her.

Bree shifted her attention to the all too familiar voice that had addressed her and smiled politely upon seeing his face. "Hello, Ben. Having a good time?"

She swayed slightly to the music, feeling the fabric of her navy blue skirt sway with her. The dress was flared out more than she was used to since she now spent most of her time in uniform, and even though it now felt strange to wear civilian clothes, she looked forward to those opportunities.

Current uniforms seemed to accentuate all the wrong things and reminded Bree just how easy it was to lose touch with one's femininity. Formal occasions like this one at least reminded her that she was once a politician's daughter and that there were other colors in the universe besides teal! With a glass of champagne in her left hand and her shiny brown hair no longer restrained by uncomfortable headbands or clips, she could almost imagine she was home on Betazed attending a formal dinner with her parents.

"You look lovely," he said with a smile. "I didn't realize your hair was so long." His gaze was definitely approving. "I'm having a great time...but I find myself temporarily without a dance partner. Think you could help me out?"

Bree smiled mischievously and waggled a finger at T'Kal. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Mister T'Kal." She looked out upon the dance floor and suddenly understood what was going on. Lyrr in Farrell's arms was certainly enough to send the male ego into orbit. "I have no desire to play the integral part in your game of one upmanship, Ben. Lyrr might need to get over her jealousy, but until she does, I won't give her ammunition which could come back to hurt her progress later on." Her conviction helped her to cover her regret somewhat, but she couldn't say she was interested in trying very hard.

"You hurt me..." he grinned. "I've been dancing all night and so has my lady over there. I may not like Mister Farrell, but I have no concerns about his dancing with Tayla. She can take care of herself you know...and I am making a point in dancing or conversing with all of the senior staff. The crew need to see us together, now, as a team of people who get along." He extended a hand and waved at the floor. "You, my dear, are required to dance with me...and that is an order, Lieutenant." His impish grin and his violet eyes held nothing but mischief. "Believe me when I say that Commander Lyrr won't mind in the slightest that I'm dancing with you...not at all," he lied.

Bree crossed her arms. "Excuse me, but are you delusional? Have you even met Tayla? I haven't heard the end of the chopsticks incident, and that was months ago." She lowered her voice to a whisper so she wouldn't be overheard. "Look, would I love to be able to dance with you and tell her to grow the hell up at the same time? You bet. But I don't have that luxury. She has to be able to trust me and if I dance with you, you and I know that isn't going to happen."

"Brennyn. Get over it," he said more seriously. "If she can handle me dancing with Lektar and not rip my throat out, she can handle you. She knows that we have a duty this evening to mingle, and we talked about it. So put your counsellor hat away for just one dance...please? Really, you never seem to relax and just be Brennyn Scott. You always look at everything as a counselor. That is not good...Counselor."

Bree shrugged in irritation. "Fine, it's your funeral," she replied, his words stinging her more than he knew. The truth was she didn't know how to relax in an environment like the Sulu where everyone seemed to be in a constant state of turmoil. And everyone expected her to fix it, didn't they? Of course she didn't do it single handedly, but she was the one who would be held ultimately responsible if things went out of control.

He led her onto the dance floor with a slight smile. "You do look lovely," he teased. "I'm so glad you didn't choose to come in dress whites. You should have a word or two to Tayla about dressing like a girl...she needs it." His grin was positively Machiavellian.

Bree laughed and took his hand. "Thank you, you look very handsome too. But I'm not crazy enough to have that conversation with Lyrr. Now chopsticks, that's another matter entirely."

He laughed, "I'm no longer permitted to eat with chopsticks in mixed company," he dead-panned. "Orders of the XO. Smiling at you in particular is strictly forbidden." He winked at her as they stepped into the dance. It was a reasonably slow tune so they swirled and stepped in a graceful yet slow timing that allowed Brennyn's skirts to swish pleasantly as T'Kal held her quite correctly.

"Tayla wants to start couples' counselling," he dropped with a grin. "We're engaged to be married."

"Oh," said Bree, not doing a particularly good job of hiding her surprise. She shrugged. "Sounds to me like you're already well on your way then, I'm not sure what I need to do for you." Part of her was still reeling from the notion that it was Tayla who was making the request.

"There's still issues, Bree," he smiled, "not as many as there used to be...but she still has nightmares when I'm not there. She hides it well, but I can tell. But we're over the intimacy thing." He raised a brow. "I'm sorry, Bree, here I am lecturing you to enjoy a dance and I start talking at you again about issues. It must be real hard." He smiled and shook his head. "Just letting your hair down and being social...."

She placed her hands on hips and smiled. "Hard for Sister Mary Brennyn? Of course not." And she winked. "Most people think issues are what I do for fun, so I'm glad to hear you're enlightened, Sir Ben." She bowed, then grew more serious. "As for you and Tayla, forgive my mother hen routine, but I worry. Don't be surprised if there are setbacks every now and then. I know you both want to think it can only get better from here, but physical intimacy is only part of this. I'm so glad Tayla is ready to work on things, and I'm glad she has you to support her."

"So am I," he smiled. "And yes, I know there will be setbacks, but I hope only small ones, and nothing we can't handle." He bowed in return and lent her his arm to walk off the dance floor. "Thanks for the dance, Bree." He grinned and kissed the back of her hand as he bowed once more.

"Thank you, Ben," she replied. As she watched him depart, she understood exactly what Lyrr saw in him, even if they worried her so.

---

"The Date Thing"
By: Crewman Sorg Jurell, Security
CPO Calyca Boothroyd, Engineering

Location: USS Sulu, Awards Party
Stardate: 57908.27, 23h10

***

It was getting late and the party was starting to wind down to the late-stayers. The music had turned a bit quieter and the din had settled into a level that was more welcoming rather than chaotic sounding. People were still dancing, or talking quietly with more than occasional bouts of genuine laughter as everyone continued to enjoy themselves. Caly smiled up at Jurell as they exited the dance floor. "That's it. My feet are done. One more dance and they're going to do unspeakable things," she told him.

"You can do unspeakable things with your feet?" he asked with a great deal of theatrical surprise. "I'd like to see that." He chuckled, and squeezed her hand that he hadn't managed to let go of yet. "Well, I must admit, I'm ready to leave. Can I take you home?" He was smiling, but the question was serious, and it held a hidden meaning; did she want to end the evening here? He really didn't want it to end. He still had things to talk about, he was sure.

"Indeed they can. It's because they have no vocal chords," she nodded sagely. She was quite comfortable with her hand nestled in his and made no move to dislodge it. "I think I'd like that," she smiled over at him. She didn't really want the evening to end either, and like him felt there were still things she wanted to talk about.

"I guess after a party like this the Observation Lounge and the Arboretum will be busy." He smirked. "But there's a place only a few people know about...on deck fifteen. If you'd like to go for a walk...before I take you home."

"I'd like that too," she agreed. "But only if..." And she reached down to tug off first one shoe and then the other. "There..." She wiggled her toes and grinned up at him. "Now a walk would be nice."

He grinned and nodded. "Okay, I'll try to watch my step," he said as he walked her toward the exit. It was a short walk to the Turbo-lift and a longer ride to deck fifteen.

He stood next to her in the lift, watching the deck lights flick upward as they descended into the lowest of the decks in the engineering hull. He was very conscious of her hand in his, and her light contact at his shoulder where she too leaned against the wall. Her fragrant oils, she'd corrected him earlier when he'd complimented the scent of her perfume, was playing about him more strongly in the confined space. The four other officers got out at various decks until they were finally alone for the last of the ride.

She looked thoughtful during their ride and when they were alone, she leaned her head back against the lift wall and closed her eyes. "Mmmmm.... The lift sounds good," she commented idly, and then out of the blue, "I was accused of robbing the cradle tonight." She peeked an eye open and looked at him, an impish grin quirking the corner of her mouth.

He looked at her with surprise. "Robbing the...?" He frowned. "I'm older than you. Unless there's someone else? Who said that?"

"You are?" Caly laughed and shook her head. "I wonder if that means I look old?" She was teasing of course. "And no, no one else."

"It's probably a rank thing," he pointed out with a grin. "Chief Petty Officer Boothroyd and Crewman Sorg." He looked at her enquiringly. "You still didn't tell me who said that. Was it the group of NCOs I saw you with earlier?"

"Maybe," she grinned and laughed at the rank thing. "Speaking of the rank thing, are you going to tell me about the rank I saw on your earring that you took off?" She nodded her head towards his pocket. "You can tell me I'm prying if you like."

"You're prying and I like." He smiled and nodded. "I guess I can tell you," he said more quietly. "You should know at least."

The turbolift finally opened and he led her out into the lower decks. A short walk through the darkened corridors of the deck closest to the external hull led them into the Aft Sensor array and past that into a MSV service alcove. The alcove was empty of its small vehicle as it was presently in the upper Hangar deck. The enclosed space was like a triangle with the sloped side starting from the floor and extending upward to the ceiling after a standard corridor walk space.

"I only have to know what you wish to tell me, Jurell," she offered quietly as she padded alongside him and then stood watching as his fingers moved over the LCARS panel.

"I know." The reply was casual.

The sloped area was the external lock for the egress of the MSV and Sorg tapped a sequence into the control interface on a small LCARS screen against the wall. The doors slid aside slowly, however he had activated the alcove's field generator and a force field rippled with blue sparks just outside the door. The reflected light from the system's central star entered the small lock bathing them in pale light. The planet was directly below them as this hatch was situated at the very base of the Sulu's ventral hull.

As the scene appeared it seemed like they were looking down into clear space at a world they might reach out to touch. Jurell grinned as Caly's eyes widened in wonder, her eyes bright and all trace of the normal impish glint gone. He reached into a wall panel maintenance hatch and removed a thick quilt which he laid on the decking. "There...picnic perfect." He sat with his back to the wall looking out at the planetary surface so far below them. A large patch of ocean was coming into view with a mass of white curling into a spiral of a hurricane out to sea. It looked spectacular. He patted the quilt for her to sit.

"See.... This...this is something I'll never, in all my years, get tired of seeing...." She barely breathed the words. "This is why I don't live planetside." She blinked and looked down at his patting hand, smiling as her body lowered gracefully and she sat down beside him. "Thank you." The awed wonder was still in her eyes as she looked over at him.

"I never get tired of seeing it either," he said quietly. "I come here sometimes at night when I can't sleep. I watch the stars. When the Sulu is at warp it's spectacular. The warp field creases right below us and it creates a rippling effect that distorts the light into weird patterns." His eyes were fixed on the scene as he spoke, one arm dangling from an upthrust knee. The other in his lap.

"I usually tinker with something when I can't sleep," she murmured softly and laid her shoes aside before pulling her legs up and sitting Indian-style.

He turned slightly so that his body was facing hers a little more. It was quiet except for the regular thrumming of the ship's power systems. "She sounds wonderful doesn't she?" he whispered as his hand flicked to encompass the ship.

Caly took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Mmmmm.... She sounds... beautiful," she breathed, her voice tinged with wonder and pride and affection. "Thank you for sharing it with me," she offered again.

"I've never shared this view with anyone before," he said quietly. "But I didn't want tonight to end."

Her eyes were still closed and her face tipped up and cocked just slightly as if it were easier to hear that way. "Neither did I. It was nice, wasn't it?"

"It still is," he murmured and slid his hand over hers. He looked at her face for a long moment and then at the planet below. "Thanks...for tonight."

Caly opened her eyes then and looked over at him, a warm smile curving her lips. "You're welcome. It was definitely not what I thought it would be," she admitted. "I'm pleasantly surprised and pleased that I have something to shock my mother with," she grinned.

"Why would tonight shock your mother?" he asked with a smile in his voice.

"Are you kidding? I, her daughter, who she's given up all hope of ever getting to act like a female, went to a party. Not only did I go to a party, but I went without being ordered, I wore a dress, and I went with a man... My god, she may have kittens," Caly grinned. "It'll be wonderful. Maybe I can get my dad to take pictures...."

He laughed, delighted. "You are very much a Lady," he replied. "You are lucky to have your parents. Mine are gone, but that was a long time ago. My father died in a mining accident on Bajor, my mother died of age...they had me very late in life. I miss my mother." He sounded wistful, but not sad.

Now it was her turn to gently squeeze his hand. "As much as I grumble about her, I love my mother," she said softly. "I know how much I'd miss her if she were gone," she offered in understanding.

"It's been a long time," he said, staring out at the view. "My childhood wasn't a bad one. We lived in the Parucet Province, a farming community, so we avoided a lot of the troubles during the Occupation. I still joined the Resistance though as soon as I was old enough. I was big for a fifteen year old, so I passed for older. I've been in uniform ever since. I never really wanted to do anything else. You ever want to do something other than what you're doing?"

Caly listened quietly, her gaze going from him to the view and back to him. "Me? No." She smiled and stretched her legs out, crossing them at the ankles and leaning back on her hands. "Well, there was once when I wanted to be a cook. I think I was seven. It lasted all of a week, I think. Uhh... Maybe just two days." She laughed a little, eyes on his face now. "You've been in the military for a long time. What brought you into Starfleet?"

"Running away from a girl," he grinned. "Danger is my middle name, remember! She was way too much for me." He laughed. "It was a good excuse at the time. I was in the Militia...so I quit. It was a little more involved than that. I had a bit of trouble for a while, and she didn't stick by me. So when I came home and discovered she'd gotten together with my best friend, I lost it for a while. Ended up enlisting in Starfleet."

She blinked and laughed. "See.... You had danger as your middle name a long time ago. And I can't believe any girl was 'too much for you'," she scoffed teasingly. "I won't ask what trouble," she told him. "But you're better off without someone who won't stick by you, that's for sure. It's strange the paths our lives take, isn't it? Are you glad it happened now?"

"Yes," he nodded. "It worked out for the better. Joining Starfleet was the best thing I ever did. Security work was just a natural thing for me to fall into." He laughed, "There's that thing again."

That made her smile. "Security thing, huh?" Her smile turned into a full blown grin. "Why's it a natural thing? Besides that protectiveness and desire to make things safe and better streak you have?"

"Someone has to look after you tinkerers out here." He grinned and slid down the wall a little so that he was almost leaning on her shoulder. He propped himself up on an elbow and faced her, crossing his legs at the ankle.

"My tinkering fingers will sleep better knowing they're safe and protected," she teased and laughed at his thing.

He looked sidelong at her and weighed her. He knew that he could trust her - she just had that look about her. "The trouble I had in the past...you should know. I served a prison sentence," he said. "I got twenty men killed in a raid on a Cardassian facility. I was in command and they needed someone to blame. It didn't matter that we were sold out to the enemy and they expected us. I lived through it by sheer luck and misfortune. I remember wishing that I'd died with my men but that wasn't to be my fate. They thought that I might have sold them out - the sole survivor. I was left for dead. I still don't know how I got out. Afterwards it was a nightmare. But that's all in the past now. But you should know that." He smiled sadly.

Caly turned when he looked at her, eyes watching him quietly. "That must have been very hard for you," she spoke softly. "Losing your men like that. You feel responsible even though it wasn't your fault, don't you?" she asked. Perhaps it was something in his face, or eyes that prompted the question. However she felt about it was left unsaid for now, but what was clear was that she didn't judge him for it at all.

"Always," he nodded. "You always go back over things in your mind to second guess yourself to see where you went wrong, or what could have been done better, or worse." He shrugged. "So now I'm an enlisted crewman and I don't have to worry about that." He sighed. "Shirik doesn't understand why I'd turn down my commendation, but I don't want or need recognition for doing my duty. I saved her life and for that I feel grateful enough to have been there to do it. Her being alive is more important than any ribbon they could pin on my chest...and I didn't do it for the recognition. I did it because she was there, and she needed me. Do you understand that, Caly?"

She listened quietly, green eyes watchful and understanding. "Aye," she answered simply, a small smile finding her lips. "I do. You're a man of integrity, Jurell. Ribbon or no ribbon, I'm grateful you were there too."

He grinned. "Yes, I am too." He turned to look out at the planet. It was an awe inspiring sight, to think that a whole world of people died down there. "It's a pity they didn't have the likes of Doctor Sefton...and it's such a waste to think they actually did it themselves...so sad."

Caly's gaze followed his and she studied the world below them. "You can almost feel them down there... Alive, moving about their day, leaving their homes for work, washing clothes... Children playing in courtyards." Her voice was quiet when she spoke, her tone hushed and almost reverent in its acknowledgement of the people who had lived there. "Do you believe in Karma, Jurell?"

"That's something Commander T'Kal talks about...getting back what you send out?" He shrugged. "I believe in the Prophets," he admitted. "But then we all know they are real." He grinned. "Why do you ask?"

"Mmmhmm... Reaping what you sow," she nodded and began idly moving a foot to and fro. "I was just wondering if a whole world could share the same Karma," she mused thoughtfully. "Tell me about your Prophets."

"Beings of an alien nature who live in the Celestial Temple. That's the Wormhole to you. They've guided my people for thousands of years through the Orbs and with visions. They are a kind of symbiotic life form for Bajorans, but spiritual. Thousands of years of thinking that they were Gods has us pretty well trained. But they haven't steered us wrong, and keeping our faith in them during The Occupation kept us alive and fighting. We know they are real now, and recently there's been a split in belief, between the traditionalists and the New science of the wormhole aliens."

"Hmmm... And which do you hold with, Jurell?" she asked curiously. "You strike me more as the traditionalist. But one who's not totally closed off to the New science. I think you have an open mind," she pronounced.

"You are a good judge after all," he smiled and nodded. "I'm a bit of a romantic I guess. I believe in them spiritually, it's in the Bajoran blood, and it's so much more romantic than wormhole aliens, but science opens new ways all the time, and if we are to survive...and not end up like them" --he flicked his wrist at the planet below-- "we have to change with the times. I think the Bajoran government joining the Federation is a great thing. Do you have any spiritual beliefs?"

"Mmm... Romantic and practical. It's a good combination, I think," she smiled. "Goes with that whole 'mysteriously attractive' thing." She paused in thoughtful silence for a few moments, her gaze moving to study the planet without really seeing it. "I do," she finally offered quietly and turned to give him a lopsided smile.

He was turned so that his legs were stretched out in almost a mirror of hers, his feet dangled over the forcefield. He was memorizing her face, the curve of her cheeks, the fullness of her lips, her wide bright eyes and delicate curls of red hair. She was so unself-conscious, so happy and positive, he couldn't imagine not smiling with her around. She made him feel good. The way she looked at him and noticed the details, like the colour in his eyes had him hooked. He didn't want the night to end, and instead of being tired as he should be, the hours were just slipping by as if he had boundless energy. He felt drunk but hadn't had a drink in hours...it was great. He was looking into her eyes again, fascinated by the way she moved and the way she spoke. Her accent was lilting, like music.

"I don't think I've ever tried to put it into words before," she admitted. "Something similar to your Prophets, I suppose, only more... Encompassing."

"It's good to have something to believe in that's bigger than yourself. That's one of the reasons I joined Starfleet," he smiled. "I liked the ideal...something to reach for that we can't quite grasp, and that's always going to be just beyond the reach of your fingers." He stretched his hand out toward the world below and wiggled his fingers.

"It's difficult for me to believe that all of this" --she waved her hand in a motion that was meant to encompass everything-- "just happened. There has to be an artist, a painter, a sculptor...a creator. Something or someone, or ones, that is responsible for something this... Breathtakingly wonderful. I like the idea of trying to find that," she agreed with him. "Or perhaps we are it."

"I totally agree with you on the creator thing," he chuckled. "It would take a master sculptor to create something as beautiful as you." He gave her a cheeky grin.

"Oh please... Was that a line? That was a line, wasn't it?" she asked, on the verge of laughter again. "It was sweet. And a little corny," she grinned.

"I had inspiration!" he grinned. "And I thought you'd go for corny."

"I did," she laughed. "Why don't you wear an earring?" The question popped out of the blue as her eyes wandered to his ear.

"I do." He laughed. "I can only wear it in off-time, and when I remember." He dug into his pocket and pulled it out. Sitting up he replaced it in his ear, attaching the clasp and the loop. "See...I wear it. But only because you asked me."

Caly's eyes followed the movement of his fingers, and she smiled. He had nice hands. Strong. "Not while on duty?" she asked and tipped her head a bit to look at him better. "Oh now, see? Very exotic. Falls right into that mysteriously attractive, dangerous thing." Now it was her turn to give him a cheeky grin. "Exotically dangerous," she nodded sagely, lips quirking in suppressed laughter.

He was trapped by those eyes again. "It's against regs to wear the earring," he said distractedly. "Commander Lyrr won't allow it. She's strange that way, you'd think because she's Bajoran she'd be okay with it, but she's not." He shrugged. "If you really like it I'll get you one. "

"That's one of the regs I didn't know..." she admitted. "I think the Commander is a 'by the book' kind of woman. She doesn't strike me as the type to step much outside the lines... You don't have to be Bajoran to wear one?"

"It's an earring. I'll make you an honorary Bajoran." He grinned. "I think it would look very good on you." He sat back, leaning on his hands, his jacket pulled tight and he shifted and unclasped it, shrugging out of it. He laid it down and got comfortable. His white shirt was high collared and balloon sleeved, in Bajoran style, it was tight across his broad shoulders and arms as he leaned back.

"An honorary Bajoran?" She chuckled softly. "I'd like that. But I wouldn't want to offend anyone," she added. Her eyes roamed his form as he took his jacket off and tightness across his shoulders and arms didn't escape her notice.

"What did you think of that dance?" he asked, like her out of the blue. "With T'Kal."

She blinked when he asked his question, having been caught off guard and totally not paying attention. "Dance? Shirik's dance. You mean?"

He nodded. "I think she made a big mistake there," he said softly.

Caly frowned a bit as she thought that over. "I think she tipped her hand, and I'm not sure that's a good thing for her in the long run," she sighed softly. "Why do you think that?"

"She should have been more careful. You'd have to be blind not to see how she feels about him. She showed her true feeling to everyone...including Commander Lyrr. I saw her face, Caly. It wasn't good. The Commander was made to choose tonight - Shirik or his fiancée. There's no way the man can say that Shirik is just a friend after tonight. No one would believe it." He sighed and closed his eyes. "Why did she have to do that - and wear that dress."

"I don't think that was her intent at all, Jurell," she frowned thoughtfully. "I'm not so sure it wasn't more of a...'see, I can have a good time and look good and be admired despite you'... And as much to prove it to herself as anyone." She watched him for several long moments before adding, "Don't judge her too harshly, Jurell. She's never been faced with this sort of situation before."

"I wouldn't know...she doesn't really talk to me about that stuff. All I can say is what I saw on Commander Lyrr's face and I know Benedict T'Kal enough to know what his likely reaction would be. He's a very honorable man, Caly. He's going to completely reject her I know it. He might have been able to be friends with her at least, but now?" He shook his head sadly. "She's declared her hand to everyone and she should have kept her feelings to herself. She doesn't think past what she wants right at the minute does she?"

"She usually does," she answered quietly. "She's usually very proper, very reserved, very quiet and very precise. You know that. And then she fell in love. With the wrong person...." She let that hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "Love is...messy, disruptive and chaotic. And Shirik doesn't have anything to base her actions on. She wasn't raised in a loving family like you and I were. She doesn't understand that sort of thing. Doesn't understand the protocol outside of her own culture," she explained softly.

"Well you know her better than I do," he said heavily. "I really don't know her at all do I?" It was heavy realization, somewhat belated, but still impacting. How could he possibly love someone that he didn't know? He'd discovered more about the girl sitting next to him in one day than he'd learned from Shirik in two months! "Do you really have that impression of love? Messy? Chaotic? Disruptive? Sounds bad the way you say it.."

"I was her roommate for two years on the Exeter. Have you ever really sat down and talked to her?" she asked and watched the subtle play of emotions on his face. She laughed softly and nodded. "Yes, but not in a bad way. Unless my mother and father lied to me. Which they wouldn't dare," she grinned.

"She's really never let me get that close," he admitted. "She's been focused on Commander T'Kal to the exclusion of everyone else." He smiled, "Okay the exclusion of namely me." He scratched idly at the back of his neck. "I've stood post looking at her for eight hours a day every single day for close to two months now. Watching someone like Shirik all day...she's beautiful, and I guess she's some kind of fantasy girl - the exotic princess that any man would die for...and I started to think that it might be possible for a guy like me to...get to know her." He shook his head.

"Shiri's not easy to get to know," she agreed. "But worth the effort. Took me a long time and I shared a room with her. Of course, I can be really obnoxious too," she added.

"She's really not for me and never was. She's more suited to someone like Commander T'Kal, or Captain Salinger. I'm just not good enough, and never will be. But that's a cultural thing too." He chuckled. "Prophets the thing's back."

"Hey, don't say that." She poked him in the ribs. "Never say you're not good enough. For her or anyone else. When you get down to it, she's just a girl. And I know... Her girl parts are really put together nice, but she's still just a girl." She poked him again and grinned. "Thing..."

"I'm not going to argue about her girl parts with you!" He laughed and reacted to her prodding with more laughter. "Stop that!" he commanded.

Caly laughed in utter delight. "Oh sure, you'd rather talk about them with someone else, huh?" She teased and tried to poke him again. He grabbed for her hand and pulled her off balance, laughing as she squealed and he held her from repeating the jabs.

"Hey!" She reached her free hand out to brace against him, still laughing. A moment later he was staring into her eyes again, and they were very close, and he felt an overpowering urge to kiss her. He hesitated, the sudden change making him unsure and there was a moment where time seemed suspended and he didn't quite know what to do. The laughter faded and she blinked at the look on his face.

"You... You're not going to do that kissing thing..." Her voice was hushed and she couldn't take her eyes off his face. "Are you?"

"No." He shook his head slightly in denial, his voice also hushed. "I'm going...to do this kissing thing." He leaned in slowly, his heart suddenly hammering as he stared into her eyes and came closer. He hesitated a fraction of a second, his lips almost touching hers before he closed his eyes and felt them contact. It was a soft touch, a brushing of lower lips, tentative, almost shy.

"This..." Caly started and her words died in her throat as he leaned in. Her heart started beating a stiletto that matched his and suddenly, out of the blue, she could hear his heart beat. Her lips parted and she started to say something... But then she felt that light touch and she drew in a shaky, huffing sort of breath and didn't dare move as a shiver blazed a path down her spine and made her toes crunch up. "...oh..." But the word was really lost against his lip so came out as more of a soft expulsion of breath.

His hand came up to cup her cheek as he kissed her. It was no longer tentative, but still amazingly gentle as he drew softly on her bottom lip. The kiss was slow, tantalizing and it made Jurell tremble as his whole body stilled so that he could feel the sensations of her lips against his. The hand that had been resting on him tightened in the material of his shirt and she finally closed her eyes as the heady sensations of what was, for all purposes, her first real kiss, caused another shudder to move through her.

It lasted for a long few seconds, and he drew away fractionally, their lips barely apart and his eyes still closed, before he managed to open them. He was still cupping her cheek in one palm, and he was holding his breath and his heart was tripping. He felt enervated, yet afraid. It had been such a sudden thing, yet like everything else for the entire day it had felt so right too. He couldn't speak, just waited for her reaction to that kiss.

She drew in a sharp breath when his lips left hers and let it back out in a soft huff. Her lips were trembling and she wasn't sure she'd be able to properly catch her breath. "Y-you..." she started and had to pause to shudder and try for another breath before she started again. "You have hidden things that are blatantly unfair, Sorg Jurell," she accused.

He dropped his hand away and gazed into her emerald eyes for a long time, not saying anything, mainly because he couldn't. He just smiled, and bit his lower lip, leaning on one arm and stared. He was still tingling after that kiss and he didn't trust himself to try it again. He didn't know if that was a bad reaction or a good one. Had he been unfair? He searched her eyes, he didn't want her to think badly of him, and he knew without a doubt that that was very important to him right now.

She didn't look like she thought he'd been unfair despite what she said, and judging by the soft look of wonder in her eyes, her reaction definitely wasn't a bad one. "No wonder my parents did that a lot..." she whispered and drew in a shaky breath, her hand leaving him to press her fingers softly against her tingling lips.

She seriously hadn't kissed anyone before. He could tell by the look in her eyes...and he smiled more fully. "I...think I'd better get you home," he said and his voice was strangely shaky, and he still couldn't drag his eyes away from hers. He didn't even try to stand up and she didn't help matters by just sitting there looking at him.

Caly drew in a breath and smiled faintly against her fingertips. Go? Don't go? Stay and talk? Don't stay and talk? She was in more that just a bit of a quandary, and in the end what she said was, "Thank you." She lowered her fingers and smiled at him. "You really are a nice man, Jurell." And she couldn't keep the impish look from her eyes at her use of the word nice.

His face cracked into a broad grin and then he laughed, which spurred hers until they were laughing together. It broke the moment and he took in a deep breath and raised his hand briefly to brush it against her cheek, pleasantly surprised when she tipped her face into the brief touch. "It's really late, and I have a feeling that we'd talk all night." He dropped his hand to take hers. "I want to talk all night," he admitted, "but we've both got duty in the morning and I don't want the Chief of Engineering breathing down my neck because I made you too tired to function." He stood, and with both hands he helped her up.

"I don't usually sleep much," she admitted as she stood with his help, her hands warmly nestled in his. "I do too...want to talk that is."

Once again they were standing very close and he gazed into her eyes. "Wow..." was all he managed to say.

She grinned up at him, laughing softly at his 'wow', her cheeks getting a hint of color in them. "Yeah."

"Do we still have a lunch thing?" he asked softly. His hands were clasped in hers as if they belonged there. It was so unreal, like some kind of dream he was going to wake from at any moment.

"I'll be starved by then," she answered with a smile. It did feel surreal. The whole evening had. But in that wonderful, 'let's do that again', kind of way.

"Great," he whispered. "Lunch then. I'll walk you back to quarters." He smiled, realizing that he was staring again and this time he blushed too. "Have to" --he nodded absently at the quilt that lay on the floor with his discarded jacket-- "put that away." But he didn't let go of her hands. He caught a whiff of her fragrance again and it almost dragged him closer so that he could breathe it in. He didn't think he'd forget that scent in a hurry. It was etched in his DNA.

She dragged her eyes from his to look towards the quilt and jacket at his nod. "And retrieve my shoes," she added and turned her gaze back to him, smiling and drawing in a soft breath. She felt slightly overwhelmed by everything. By the evening, the food, the dancing... Him. And yet she was as reluctant for the evening to end as he was.

He chuckled, and nodded. He managed to let go of her hands and do as he'd said, picking up the quilt and folding it, then replacing it in its hidden place. While he did that, she retrieved his jacket and her shoes and stood barefoot, watching him quietly as she held them against her chest. She smiled and handed his jacket to him when the quilt was stowed away. He threw it over his arm as he tapped on the LCARS and the MSV hatch closed. As it shut out the spectacular view it seemed to bring a final conclusion to being here and elicited a soft sigh from her.

"Okay then." He held out his hand with a smile. "We'd best get you home..."

"Thank you," she smiled back and slipped her hand into his. "For everything."

He grinned. "Don't you mean every...thing?" He laughed at his own pun but led her from the small alcove back along the corridor. He wasn't in any particular hurry either. "I've enjoyed tonight," he said as they strolled up to the trubolift. He pushed the sensor to wait for the ride and stood facing her, still very close, as if her smile had a leash to it and he couldn't stray beyond it. He gazed into her eyes, which had become habit-forming; a sweet addiction.

She laughed at the pun and bowed her head a bit. "Right. Every thing," she agreed, still chuckling softly. "I did too. Very much so." That impish look was back in her smile and eyes as she gazed back at him. "We'll have to do it again. Just not... You know, the date thing," she grinned.

"Riight," he drawled, with a roll of his eyes. "We don't do the date thing..." The turbo lift doors opened and he waved her inside and stepped in after her. "What deck?" he asked, completely forgetting which deck he'd picked her up on as if it had been a long time ago. "I forget."

"Thirteen," she laughed softly and leaned against the lift wall, watching him with a warm look in the depths of her green eyes.

He leaned against the wall too, only scant centimeters from her. "Deck thirteen," he told the computer and it started off. There was hardly time for a smile and a sigh before the lift stopped.

She looked surprised when it stopped so soon and her eyes scanned the inside of the lift. "That was fast...." Not an overly brilliant observation and nothing like pointing out the obvious. She turned to him and smiled as she straightened from the wall.

"Only three decks,." he observed with a smile. "I'm on deck four." The lift door swished open. He stepped out ahead of her, walking backwards, hands wrapped in his jacket. "I know," she laughed and followed him out of the lift. He started walking alongside her as they strolled along the corridor.

Two crewmen passed them, gold shoulders in Class Bs, hushed whispers as they walked that stopped as they passed and resumed further along. Sorg cast them a look and a frown and carried on walking with Caly who actually smiled and nodded to the crewmen in acknowledgement.

It was a comfortable silence for most of the way. He was thinking over the evening, and their talk, and wondering at the growing knot in his gut as they got closer to her door, and she had her hands clasped behind her back, shoes dangling from her fingers and thinking over the evening, and their talk, and wondering why her feet were slowing as they got closer to her door. As a CPO she rated single quarters, unlike him - he had to share with three others.

They finally reached her door, in spite of the growing knot in his gut and her reluctant feet. He gave her a tentative smile. "Well...here." He absently waved at the door. Sorg Jurell, Master of the Obvious. He was caught by her eyes again..

She smiled back a bit hesitantly, looking from her door to him, sighing softly at the look in his eyes. He was so...intense, and she could always see a depth in his eyes that fascinated her as much as their color did. "Yeah...here..." she echoed his words.

He laughed softly. "Okay then...I guess it's good night." The knot in his gut was getting tighter by the second. His hands scrunched up his jacket as if in imitation. "I'll see you later then." He took a step back, suddenly losing his nerve.

Caly blinked and watched him, hands still gathered behind her back with her shoes dangling from her fingers. She moved her feet a bit, first taking a half-step towards the door, and a moment later taking a half-step towards him. She was as reluctant for him to go as he was to leave. She finally drew in a soft breath and lifted a hand to run through her hair in a sort of thoughtless agitation, knocking one of the clips Shirik had placed there askew. "Lunch... Right?" She swayed towards him a bit, her hand making an errant gesture. The clip dislodged and she fumbled for it as it tumbled from her hair.

His reaction was automatic. His hand whipping out and grabbing the falling object as she bent forward and he did at the same time and the inevitable happened. Jurell's reactions were extremely good and he stopped a fraction before hitting her in the face with the brunt of his forehead, and she stopped too, and then their eyes locked and...they straightened up, but they were back to being close. The clip in Jurells' fingers didn't matter as he kissed her, nor did the sound of her shoes thumping softly to the deck. He didn't know he was going to do it until their lips came together.

His hands came up and held her arms lightly as hers came up and rested on his waist. The kiss was a firm, languid expression of feeling on his part, and a half-startled, curious one on hers. His eyes were closed, and his breath came in a gasp that was echoed by hers as their lips broke apart, only to come together again with the renewed air supply. A long moment passed as he revelled in the contact and then he broke away. With his eyes still closed, his cheek brushing hers, he took a trembling breath.

She was trembling beneath his hands, her own breath coming in soft pants that echoed the thudding of her heart. "I-I lost my shoes..." she said inanely.

"That's okay," he whispered, his cheek brushing lightly against hers, "they can't have run far...they've got no feet." His smile creased his cheek and he chuckled, the tension drained away. He still held her, more to stop himself from swaying against her than anything else.

For whatever reason, that seemed to be a monumental relief to her and he could feel the easing of her body as she relaxed and laughed softly at his joke. "That's a relief. I'd hate to chase them down." She let out a soft sigh, rich in the 'it's okay', feeling.

He stepped back and lifted the clip. "You dropped some thing." He placed it in her hand and bent at the knees, reaching behind her and picking up the errant pair of shoes. They hadn't run far at all. He held them out for her as he stood and smiled. "I'll see you," he said gently. "Good night." His blue eyes examined her green ones one final time.

Caly laughed at his thing and closed her fingers around the clip. Her eyes and body followed him, twisting to see behind her as he gathered her shoes. She smiled as she took her shoes from him. "For lunch," she added softly. "Good night." Her green eyes examined his blue ones one final time.

He backed away, clearly reluctantly and after a couple of steps he turned and sauntered away, his jacket dangling from one hand. He got a few more paces away before looking back over his shoulder and giving her a smile. Then he was gone around the corner heading for the lift.

She backed up until her butt hit the door and it opened. She almost fell through, but managed to keep her balance as she watched him saunter away, green eyes roaming over his form until he turned and they flew to his face. She grinned, slightly embarrassed at getting caught staring and lifted a hand in a wave as he disappeared. She sank back into her room with a heart-felt expulsion of breath as she leaned against the bulk-head and the door slid closed.

---

"Save the Last Dance"
By: Ensign Ainsley Chambers; Counselor
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer

Location: USS Sulu Award Reception
Stardate: 57908.27 23h30

***

Her eyes searched the room and the throngs of people scattered around; it was getting late but very few people had left yet. She was almost ready to leave but she still hadn't managed to dance with the one person that she really wanted to, so she was searching the crowd for Mason now. She'd danced with Dr. Potts, Sanat, Jackson Thompson from engineering, and Giles McKenzie, the chief helmsman. Her toes still ached a little from all the times McKenzie had trod on them. Maybe she was spoiled because Mason was such a good dancer, but McKenzie was downright awful. She'd seen Mason dancing with Shirik, Natalia, and Commander Lyrr. They had managed to catch up to each other a couple times and talked a little but then one or the other had gotten pulled off into another conversation and they had drifted apart again.

Ainsley finally spotted him talking and laughing with an Ensign that she recognized from engineering, but she couldn't remember his name. She felt her pulse quicken slightly just watching him from across the room. She loved how fantastic he looked in his dress uniform, and the way his eyes lit up when he laughed.

She headed over and, once there was a slight lull in the conversation, she cut in and said, "I've been looking for you. I think you owe me a dance, Mr. Farrell."

Mason turned to her, and took a moment to drink her in. "So I do, Counselor. So I do," he said with relish. "Excuse me," he said to the other Ensign, who nodded theatrically and backed away.

"What a night," Mason said as they walked to the floor.

"Yes, it has been," Ainsley answered. "Did you have a good time?"

"It's ending well," he said, smiling wearily and settling into position for the song.

"Ladies and gentleman," Nebbs said from the music control table. "Last dance of the night."

"Seems I grabbed you at just the right time," Ainsley commented as the dance floor began to fill up with couples.

"Grab me anytime," he quipped as the song began and he finally had a chance to hold her close.

"I would have grabbed sooner if you hadn't been in the arms of every other woman here," she said with a small teasing smile.

He smiled tentatively back. "It was just--" He cut himself off. "Ainsley, hey. . ." he stammered, unsure what else to say.

She grinned fully then. "Gotcha!" She rubbed her hand down his back. "I was just teasing. I danced a lot too, though no one here dances as wonderfully as you do."

Mason grinned and looked to the ceiling a moment before looking back into her eyes. "Who's the mean one tonight?" he asked rhetorically. "And I can't possibly be the best dancer here," he added lightly.

Ainsley shrugged slightly. "Well you're certainly the best of all the people I danced with tonight. Watch out for McKenzie; I'm sure he could bruise your toes from here." She laughed at that.

"I saw that," said Mason. "You took it well. Heart of a warrior, patience of a mountain," he added facetiously. "That's my lady."

She smiled as he called her his lady again. With a teasing grin again she said, "I need those qualities just to handle being your lady."

"Yes you do. But if I'd told you that up front, you'd have never come see who gave you those balloons," he grinned.

"Ya never know," she answered. "I'm a counselor, I like challenges."

"Then you've come to the right place," Mason chortled.

"You're not kidding," she answered with a smile. "Speaking of which, how were your dances?"

"Odd," Mason said softly. He leaned in to dish. "Lektar's feisty, but scary. Druschev's slinky, but still has issues. Nat's still almost out of control, and the commander dances about as well as McKenzie."

"Don't get those two together, they'll take out the entire dance floor."

Mason laughed. "How about her and T'Kal mauling each other on the dance floor?"

"I saw a little and then tried not to watch," Ainsley answered. "I didn't want to feel like I had stumbled into their quarters."

"Guess the Bajorans are a freer bunch than I thought," said Mason.

"I never noticed any more of it when I was on Bajor than I have in any other place," Ainsley answered. "I mean, you will see them holding hands and possibly embracing in public, but Commander Lyrr looked a little uncomfortable from what I saw."

"I just wish they'd keep it a little lower-key than that," Mason said, then shook his head. "But I'm complaining again. I've decided to resolve to be more positive."

"Being positive is always a good thing," Ainsley said. "I find I've been in a very good mood since our time by the stream the other day." She beamed up at him.

"It's my favorite memory of the Sulu so far," Mason agreed. "I'm glad you didn't bolt."

"Did you honestly think I would?" she asked, curiousity in her voice.

"I sure hoped you wouldn't," Mason said. "But it felt like a gamble. I'm a risk. I've hurt you once already." He took a deep breath. "And I wasn't sure how you'd react."

"Well, we've both almost messed this up already so I think we're even in that respect." Then she grinned. "And then, of course, there was that black eye I gave you."

Mason laughed. "Yes, there is that. That's a big reason I decided to go ahead and admit I loved you."

"You told me you loved me because I hit you?" she asked in genuine confusion.

"In a way, yeah," Mason answered. "Getting hit told me two important things."

"And what were those?" she asked.

"That you weren't afraid to stand up for yourself, and you'd always be direct when I was doing something stupid. And I fell in love with you right then."

"You've been in love with me since the night we went diving?" she asked. She realized then that that was also the night he described when he told her that he loved her.

"Thinking about it, I'd say so," he nodded, holding her gaze.

"I don't think I can place a date on when I fell in love with you. It was gradual, but it's been awhile now."

"So I grew on you?" Mason smirked.

Ainsley grinned. "Like a fungus, but in a good way!"

"Nice visual," Mason chortled. "Kind of like you dancing with Potts."

"Or better yet, like you dancing with Potts!" She laughed. "I asked him to give me a copy of that holo."

"A little blackmail?" Mason smirked.

She shrugged slightly. "Possibly."

"Am I rubbing off on you?"

Ainsley just closed her eyes and giggled. Mason hung his head, catching the innuendo right after she did. His chuckles made her laugh out loud, and her laughter sparked his own.

"We need to--" Mason stammered out, gasping for breath as he fought down a guffaw "--get off the floor."

"Or we'll end up on the floor," she managed to get out between laughs.

They both paused in their laughter to consider that comment, and then burst into snickers again, supporting each other as they fled the dancefloor.

---

"Doctor Of Swing"
By: Lt. Commander Damhnait Sefton
Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal

Location: The Party
Stardate: 57908.27, 23h48

***

There was one woman that Benedict T'Kal wanted to make a point of talking to. He spied her standing close to the bar, drinking from a tall glass. Her curvy form and dark brown hair seen from behind belied her age. She was close to fifty years old, but looked as she was more comfortable in her thirties, and she still attracted appreciative stares, however guarded. She was Betazoid; as he approached from the rear with a slight smile on his face, he imagined that she was privy to most of the thoughts around her, including his. The streaks of dampness at her throat and brow attested to the exertion of dancing, so he'd obviously caught her on a break.

He leaned on the bar next to her. "Hey, Doc, enjoying the party?" It seemed that he just couldn't call her by her first name. She was just too authoritative for that luxury, and when she turned her head to regard him he looked into two twin black holes for eyes. They were totally black, and it threw him a little, but he recovered his smile.

"Muchly," Damhnait Sefton replied easily, and offered T'Kal a curtsy, even though the black trousers of her dress uniform forced her to use an imaginary skirt. "I take it you are pleased by the party as well?"

"I haven't danced this much in a long time," he nodded. "I think this was just what the doctor ordered." He grinned and waved at Stencil. The bartender put a large glass of bubbly amber liquid on the bar. The top of it frothed white. "Cheers, Doc." He grinned as he lifted the glass and took a sip, obviously relishing the taste. "Prophets that's good." He leaned sideways against the bar facing her.

"It has been at least a year since I last danced this long and strong. I can't even remember the last time without Fortu," Damhnait commented, and gulped the rest of her water as T'Kal enjoyed his drink.

"In all the excitement of the week, did I forget to say 'thanks'?" he asked seriously.

Sefton was silent, her expression unchanging, for several moments of consideration. After the quick jaunt through her memory, she replied, "That is well likely." Her mood remained as bubbly as Ben's drink, though.

"Then thank you," he said seriously. "For Lyrr, and for Shirik, and for everyone else." He took a sip of the ale and looked back at her. "You did...a remarkable job." He picked the word with care. "I've been on a few ships, and I've usually been very good friends with all of the Chief Medical Officers. I served on the Galaxy with Doctor Khan Nilani" --and his memory of their brief affair brought a smile to his lips-- "and on the Windsor with Doctor Felicia Khatroweena - she's a Cait. I don't know if you'd know of them, but I made a point of getting to know them, and being friends with them." He smiled at Damhnait. "I'd like to get to know you, too." Being a security officer meant getting into harms way, so often a period in sickbay was inevitable. "From what I've seen so far, you run a hell of a tight department...this last week proved that beyond doubt."

Though Damhnait had only heard of Doctor Nilani, a nod and a spark of recognition in her dark eyes expressed that she had met Felicia Khatroweena at a couple of medical conferences. T'Kal's compliment turned Sefton's smile into more of a grin, and she told him, "I appreciate you saying that. I knew my staff possessed potential for greatness, if only they could discard their distractions. The real test of their cohesion will be now, post-crisis, when there is more time available for spinning apart on duty. Thus far, they are still holding together, though. In fact, I fully expected and would have encouraged greater tension-breaking levity in Sickbay the past few days."

He nodded. "You're very good at this aren't you?" he grinned, leaning more casually against the bar. "I still have a lot to learn about running a department. I'd appreciate some help occasionally, ideas, that sort of thing. I got the impression that you were kinda on the outer with this recent crisis. Did you feel that way?"

"Being left isolated with a virus and a Science chief who lacked rank and title certainly exasperated it, but it started before this planet, since I came on board the Sulu, in fact," Damhnait nodded, her tone remaining even. She avoided self-pity and accusation, in explaining, "I felt very much like the New Person in an existing situation. There didn't seem to be much interest by anyone to change that, which wasn't helped by the fact that I have become fairly accustomed to ending up on ships senior-staffed by old friends. Fortunately, I have begun to recognise that it was not only me feeling alienated - that the entire senior staff has been lacking in communication and camaraderie. Its membership has changed so many times so quickly; it's natural for it to still be moderately divisive. It will take considerable time for each of us to learn how the others operate best, and even longer to be able to compliment those operations. When you need it, I will certainly offer any advice I can."

Benedict smiled and nodded as she spoke. "Yeah, I felt it too." He looked up at her. "I don't mind you talking mind to mind with me...can I call you Damhnait? Not so many misconceptions that way," he grinned. "I've had a lot of experience dealing with open-minded communication, and I don't have anything to hide...so if you feel the need, or the inclination to talk that way, please...it's an open invitation." He chuckled., "Just as long as you promise not to talk about some of the things you might learn."

After nodding him permission to call her by her given name, Sefton remarked, "While it often lacks clarity, I find it sometimes forces focus upon an intended message when I must say it verbally. I suppose it is something else I have simply grown accustomed to; I don't find many non-telepaths who have trained to receive telepathic thought. Of course, I will keep your thoughts private and confidential, but I can't promise to not talk about unexpected thoughts with you."

He laughed. "Just don't tell my fiancée." He drank the last of his ale. "Actually my previous fiancée was Romulan-Vulcan. We mind melded a lot...all the time. I've had a lot of help from Starfleet Counsellors too on occasion - Betazoids being the most helpful. So you see, I have a very positive outlook on the subject, and I grew used to telepathic contacts. It's just a different mode of talking, and requires some focus to dampen down on the erroneous thoughts."

"Precisely. I could not have said it much better myself," Sefton agreed.

"Well, I'm ready to dance again...are you game?" He extended a hand.

Damhnait took his hand, but then teased, "Will your fiancée be jealous? I have to work with her, you know."

"She's always jealous," he grinned, "but she trusts me. She has nothing to worry about. But then I've heard stories about the mature Betazoid women. Are they true?" He was plainly teasing, but there was an element of curiosity behind the question. After all, he was Bajoran, he'd married a Klingon, almost been married to a Romulan for all intents, and had several short flings with a Human, a Bajoran, an Orion and a Caitian, yet he'd never really had opportunity to meet with a Betazoid socially - and it was difficult to ignore the fact that Damhnait was extremely attractive, which he duly tried to ignore - but it was like not thinking of the word elephant....

"I'm not quite that mature," Damhnait laughingly chided him, as T'Kal led her onto the dance floor. Once she had her arms around his shoulders, she brought her cherry-red lips closer to his right ear just long enough to whisper, "Besides, once my sex drive does quadruple, it is said that I will simultaneously urge towards monogamy. The Betazoid concept of fidelity is much more...complicated and flexible than the Terran or Bajoran concept, but I do hope to be back in the Alpha Quadrant, with Fortu, before the Phase begins to set in."

He chuckled. "Lucky bastard," and swung her out in the first of the steps. "Tebrianne and I used to dance together, linking minds so we could really dance. Want to give it a try?" he teased.

"As you said, it is just communication," Damhnait shrugged, seeing no harm to herself in it. "But I would think that could definitely cause some jealousy, and not just from your fiancée."

He frowned. "Serious? Who?" He carried on dancing, following the steps automatically. "And why?"

"I speak honestly, but I would certainly not call the situation serious," Sefton assured him genuinely. Brightening again, she said, "While I have no qualms telling you that you think I am likely speaking of Shirik, you will have to ask every person in the room for yourself to find out if any one of them would be jealous by us dancing perfectly in synch. I don't suspect any of them would be murderous or even angry, and so it's definitely not serious enough to breach confidentiality."

"Then it doesn't matter does it?" he asked with a grin. "Come on...let's dance." His violet eyes were filled with mischief and he laughed as her presence filled his awareness, and his mind. It was a smooth meshing of thought and he let it happen, relaxing for a moment both physically and mentally to let her control the process. It was a familiar sensation, and the imagery of who she was, as a person and a doctor and a mother and other things flowed through him as a more intimate introduction to Damhnait Sefton and she in turn learned who he was in the same way.

The physical sensations were pleasant, T'Kal had a distinct impression of her body movements as she in her turn accepted his. He knew exactly what she was doing, thinking, breathing and for a moment he let that sink in as the music around them changed.

The song that started up then was pure "swing" and the melody and harmony flowed through him and he laughed. The brassy sounds started up with the beat and the lyrics came in strong. His foot tapped out the beat first, and Damhnait's foot echoed his perfectly, so when he turned his head to look at her and she at him, both with a huge smile he stepped off into a fast paced swing dance.

It wasn't really fair; they were dancing as if they had danced together forever, and floor space began to appear as they swung, turned, spun, and laughed. Benedict moved to the music as he'd done with Taylor Bennett, but none of his moves surprised Damhnait Sefton in the way that they had Taylor. She was always where she was supposed to be, always moving with him, letting him lead, but taking her mental cues from his memory of the steps, as if they were hardwired together.

It was exhilarating, and fun! By the time the song ended and Damhnait was coming up from a deep dip, Benedict was breathing hard and laughing. "Prophets that was fun," he told her as he stepped away from her and kissed her hand. "Thank you." His eyes were filled with mirth. "We have to do that again sometime."

---

"Risa Revisited"
Lieutenant Mark Thaine - Chief Engineer
Cadet D'alla Cox - Cadet in Training [NPC]
and Doctor Ilan Potts - Assistant Chief Counselor

Location: USS Sulu, Mark Thaine's Quarters and Holodeck Four
Stardate: 57908.27, 23h56

***

"And you're quite sure this will work?" Potts asked, pacing nervously. The holodeck was in stand by mode, revealing its massive inner framework of metal rails and holoprojectors. "I tried to understand young Shyla's explanation but it was all Breen to me."

Cox was at the arch, tapping the console with green finger tips and holding in a deep sigh. Potts had waylaid her on the way out from the awards reception and she had foolishly revealed that Sullivan was filling in for her until 0100. "Petty Officer Moreau's program is sound," she said tersely, studying the matrix as it scrolled by on the screen. "And actually quite clever...the program makes use of the proximity sensors and substrate force fields to track movement here and transmit that information to the avatar at the receiver location."

Potts clasped his hands together but not yet happily. "Forgive me, Cadet but the technical stuff is a little beyond me...doesn't that extra information add a considerable load to the transmission integrity? Don't forget, this little phone call has to bounce along the silithium filament all the way back to the Alpha Quadrant."

"Well," Cox began uncertainly and completely mystified by the words 'phone call'. "It's not a lot more information than goes with a typical visual transmission, sir. Remember, the avatar provides the visual on the other end...the only thing extra in the transmission carrier wave is the animation instruction for that avatar. From an information standpoint, it's actually quite economical."

"So I'll need to set up the program specifics with her first...so she can program the avatar on the other end?"

"Aye, sir," Cox nodded her head. "And I'll need to know a few specifics for the avatar on this end. You want the hologram to resemble a real person, yes?"

"Yes," Potts agreed. "You can find the physical perimeters in the personnel records and the transporter logs. She beamed aboard the ship several times a couple of months ago." Potts walked out holodeck door. "I'll go to begin the preliminary communication."

"Who is the person, sir?" Cox asked, sticking her head into the corridor. "And what setting should I use?"

"Lieutenant Andrea Rhea!" he shouted back without stopping. "And I think nothing would be more appropriate than Risa."

***

"Lieutenant Thaine, your presence is requested on Holodeck Four," the computer evoked in the darkened room.

"What?" The voice was dulled with both sleep and the after-effects of drink. "No it's not," he argued, not caring about the futility of it.

The computer repeated its statement, and Thaine finally threw off the bedcovers in anger. "Blasted machine! Who the hell wants me at this hour?" He began struggling out of bed, and found his foot was caught, somehow, amidst the blankets.

"That information is unavailable."

"Oh, well that's just typical, isn't it?! If this is some kind of ridiculous prank, I'm gonna--" The computer never found out exactly what Thaine was intending to do. His fury at being woken, combined with a tangled bedcover and the after-effects of most of a bottle of brandy culminated in a single, rather unfortunate effect.

From the floor, next to his bed, Mark Thaine groaned in pain and frustration, and wondered if his night could possibly get any worse.

***

It was a rather dishevelled Mark that walked out from the furnished corridors of the USS Sulu, and onto a beach that he found strangely familiar.

The holodeck had, as ever, created a scene with attention to detail that was staggering. Waves lapping gently on the shore, soft sands, the smell of salt in the air. The dark night sky overhead was clear and awash with stars, and the moon lit up the beach in tranquil tones.

The Risan beach was perfect, in every respect. Mark Thaine, in his creased and crumpled dark grey clothes, had never felt more out of place. The sea breeze was even making him feel slightly ill, though the brandy from a few hours earlier might have had something to do with that.

Things got worse when he saw an all too familiar figure walking toward him along the shoreline; a woman he hadn't seen in quite a while. Not since-- "Risa", he muttered aloud. "What the hell is this?"

"Hello, Mark," said Andrea, softly. She'd let her blonde hair down, and the gentle sea-breeze was blowing it gently about her shoulders. Mark even recognised the clothes she was wearing from the last time he'd seen her, when they beamed down to Risa together.

"Oh, very good!" Thaine applauded mockingly as he turned around the holo-deck, looking for whoever was pulling the metaphorical strings. "You even got the voice right! Come on, I've seen through your prank. It's over. And it was real funny."

Unseen by Thaine as he ranted, Andrea sighed and shook her head. "I'm not a hologram," she explained, once he'd finished. "Well," she added after a moment's thought, "I suppose I am, from your point of view." When Thaine's expression became one of total bewilderment, she continued her explanation.

"Think of it as a fancy communication. I don't know the technical details...but just as I'm appearing in your holo-deck, you're appearing in mine. Our ships' computers are picking up our movements and speech, and passing them back and forth."

Taking a few steps closer, the engineer looked her over suspiciously. "How do I know it's really you?"

Andrea just looked amused. "You like poetry...especially Kipling and Wordsworth. You secretly read Jane Austen, and--"

"Alright, alright!" Mark interrupted, frantically, while Andrea chuckled softly. "It's you, I believe you," he said. "But what are you doing here?"

"Professor Potts--"

"Potts?!" Realisation struck the engineer like a brick in the face. "That damned counsellor! What the hell is he playing at now?!"

Andrea's cheeks flushed; a marvel of holographic technology. "The Professor was concerned about you!" She hadn't raised her voice, but her tone made Mark fall silent. "He was said you wanted to talk. He was worried about you. He said you were under a lot of strain."

"Damned right I'm under a lot of strain! Mostly from idiotic counsellors who think waking me up in the middle of the night is going to help matters!"

"Mark..." she said gently, obviously trying to calm him down. "I'm sure the Professor didn't mean any harm..."

Thaine snorted derisively. "I'll bet. At least tell me he didn't make a pass at you."

"A pass at me?" Andrea seemed rather shocked. That alone eased some of Mark's fears.

"He said he'd always liked you, or something. I couldn't believe he said it...what?" He stopped, realising Andrea was shaking her head.

"I only met him this evening, Mark. I'd read some of his books, and I'd heard of him...he's rather famous in counselling circles. But I'd never met him before tonight."

What was it Boothroyd had called Potts only that evening? 'Honest'? "The lying sod."

Andrea didn't offer any counter-arguments to that, though Thaine felt it was more diplomacy on her part than anything else. Whether she knew the eccentric counsellor personally or not, she had a great deal of respect for him. He could hear it in her voice when she spoke of him.

"Alright then," said Mark. "Why this?" He made a vague, all encompassing gesture with a hand. "Why did you choose Risa?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing..." She trailed off, and then blinked in understanding. Her cheeks flushed again, this time a mixture of embarrassment and anger. "You told him about...that night?"

"No!" protested Mark, his temper reaching a new high point, and directed entirely at Potts. "He used one of those stupid...counselling mind tricks on me."

A small smile played on Andrea's lips at the notion of 'counseling mind tricks' - something she'd always found so humourous. It seemed to ease some of the tension between them, and her embarrassment. "I suppose it can't hurt that much for him to know."

Thaine made no comment, and just remained in silent disagreement. Andrea's smile did ease his temper slightly, though. "He's mad. I swear, after this I'm gonna take it straight to the Commander. Or higher. Ever since he did my psych evaluation, he's got some crack theory about me having a nervous breakdown."

"And he thinks I'm the cause, or the cure?" questioned Andrea, arching an eyebrow. In response, Thaine just shrugged helplessly, causing the young woman to sigh deeply again.

"Mark," she said. "Maybe even if the Professor's ideas were a little off...and I promise, I'll tell him I think you're fine...us talking may be for the best. There's...something I need to tell you, anyway."

"I thought we talked about--"

"No..." interrupted Andrea, quickly. "Not about us. I..." She took a breath, and Mark found himself preparing to hear bad news. "There's... someone else. He works in flight control, onboard the Nebula...this ship." She paused, nervously. "We're engaged. Only the other night, in fact."

To Mark, the look of on her face was almost as painful as the news itself. There was pity there, and concern, for his sake. But also something in her blue eyes; a wonder at being able to tell the news. A happiness at announcing her intent to marry.

Sometimes technology was too perfect. He could have done without seeing that expression. It sent his mind reeling, and for a moment, he couldn't find words to speak. "That's...great," he finally managed. "Congratulations." The words sounded flat and hollow, to his ears. He wondered how they sounded to Andrea.

"Thank you," she said, quietly. A silence fell between them, filled only by the waves lapping on the shore. Mark was no longer looking directly at Andrea, finding refuge instead in gazing out to sea. "Was there anything you did want to say?" she asked, one last time.

Thaine shook his head, his gaze flickering briefly to her, and then away again. "No...nothing."

"I think I'd better be going..." She trailed off, not even trying to hide the worried expression on her face. "Goodbye, Mark."

Perhaps he delayed too long, or perhaps Andrea ended the communication too quickly. Whatever the reason, the holodeck images quickly faded before Mark even took a breath to speak.

"Goodbye, Andrea," he found himself saying to the criss-cross of yellow grid lines on the floor, to the metallic framework on the walls, and to his now suddenly empty world.

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