Strangers when we meet
a story for Chakotay and Kathryn
from the pen of
vanhunks
Completed February/March 2002
NOTE: This story chronicles the lives of Chakotay and Kathryn over a period of about seven years. It is written in an AU scenario where there is no Caretaker, Voyager does not travel in the Delta Quadrant and most of the action will take place in the Alpha Quadrant. I know that readers are mostly used to reading J/C in the Caretaker/Delta Quadrant/Homecoming setting, or set somewhere in one of the seasons of ST Voyager. It is therefore something of a challenge I've accepted to write a story where the destinies and lives run differently from what we are commonly accustomed to.
The story is novel length, divided into four books.
PREMISE: When I considered a premise for this story, I looked at the relationship between two persons and asked the question: If a marriage had everything in place - trust, intimacy, complete faith, love, security - surely, there is nothing that can rend it asunder, is there?
SUMMARY: When Commander Chakotay agrees reluctantly and against his better judgment to accompany a young woman he has never seen to a Command Performance for the President of the Federation, neither he nor Kathryn Janeway will comprehend fully the far reaching consequences of their first meeting, a blind date.
RATING: NC-17
Beginnings
December 2368 - The USS ORMSKIRK, en route to Earth.
Commander Chakotay's eyes narrowed as he looked at his friend. He approached Sergei, his fists primed to throw a left hook aimed at Sergei's mouth.
"Let me get this straight," he hissed, "you want me to partner our commanding officer's sister's friend to a concert."
"That's right," Sergei Karkoff replied with a grin, pushing one gloved fist away from his face. Then he thumped Chakotay's arm with his fist, a hard blow that would have made a less muscular man bark with pain. They were on the holodeck of the Ormskirk. Chakotay had worked up a sweat, his upper torso glistening from the exertion of hitting the punching bag in Boothby's Gym.
"I'd rather take my chances with Svetlana, but she's spoken for," Chakotay burst out as he delivered a hard wallop to the belly of the bag. It swung so hard that it hit Sergei who stumbled backwards.
"Hey, watch it, will you?"
"Stand away, then," Chakotay ordered as he punched the bag again. Sergei wasn't finished with his friend though, so he held the bag still, his stance a challenge.
"Svetlana sends her love. She wants you to visit next week. It's Anatoly's birthday."
"Your wife is damned near perfect. I don't do dates. I don't do concerts, Sergei."
"Chakotay, I swear, you hate your father, you hate concerts, so what else do you hate?"
"You setting me up with any woman in the Alpha Quadrant in the hope I'll finally get round to looking at someone else?'
Chakotay thumped the bag again with such force that Sergei landed on his bottom as the bag hit him square in the face. When he got to his feet, he complained:
"What I won’t do for my friend. It's just one night, Chak. Come on, Dalene asked so nicely. Actually, she wheedled a promise out of Svetlana, and you know how Dalene is - "
"And Dalene being Svetlana's friend," Chakotay cut in, "Dalene, who is the sister of Captain Petranoff. Dalene, huh." Chakotay was pointing with his gloved hand, mimicking an old man trying to figure out some perplexity.
"This woman has a name?"
"Shall I tell you?"
Chakotay threw up his hands, giving the punching bag a short reprieve.
"Jeez, you're killing me, Sergei. I don’t know how long I can keep up with the suspense! Why should I care if I'm not going?"
Sergei stifled the urge to hurl the bag at Chakotay. He was fast losing it, Sergei thought. It was Svetlana who was worried about their best friend; she pressured him into coaxing Chakotay to play the field. Hell, he didn't care if the girl had ten large moles on her cheek, as long as Chakotay got out more. The man was becoming far too melancholic, given to an introspection that had not been so prevalent during their Academy days.
"You know, Chakotay, I swear if I didn't know you, I'd actually dislike you. But as it is, we've been through the Academy together, and we - "
"Yes? What? You gonna tell me how I should get on with my life and how doing so would infinitely enhance my humanity, right?"
"Jeez, Chak. Give me a break, will you?" Sergei came nearer, but stood just left of the punching bag in case Chakotay let fly again in his direction.
"Do I know this - this…person…?"
Sergei pursed his lips. What the hell was wrong with Chakotay? It was enough that he made no contact with his father, made his mother unhappy because his should be ‘he’ didn't make contact with his father, angered his sister because he made his mother unhappy because he didn't make contact with his father. Nor did he have so much as a passing interest in women – even the most attractive of them left him stone cold. He could swear Chakotay was born with an ice cube where his heart should be. Why was the damned man so asexual? All men and women surely had the ability, the desire to connect on a sexual and sensual level with another person.
"No, you don't. I don't know her name. Dalene has too many friends that she thinks need a push in the right direction…"
Chakotay thought Sergei was lying his ass off, but he played along. Go with the flow, and maybe he'd get rid of the flotsam. Or something.
"Blind date, huh."
"I bet she's beautiful..." Sergei said contemplatively.
"Oh, Christ."
Chakotay pummelled the bag a few more times in an angry reaction to Sergei's words. Then he stopped abruptly and held out his hands to Sergei who proceeded to unlace the gloves. The gym was dark, with a dank, stale smell of smoke that hung in the air. Only the light on the boxing ring threw the room into some relief.
"You never been on one, right?"
"I'm not about to start, so don't hold your breath."
Sergei studied Chakotay while he removed the Commander's gloves. Chakotay was a tough man, but also fair and loyal and proud. Sergei knew the trouble with Chakotay's father, who had wanted his son to embrace the beliefs and traditions of his father's people. At fifteen Chakotay had gone through the obligatory teen phase of rebelling, particularly against the ways of his people. Chakotay had been disdainful, arrogant, and brash. However, by now, years down the line, much of the brashness, arrogance and disdain had been tempered, first by the discipline of the Academy and later by responsibility and the duty of command. Tempered, not gone. Chakotay still held that slight contempt for his father, faulting who Sergei thought was the kindest man who breathed, for his beliefs.
Chakotay was the handsomest devil in their class, and later, as Ensigns on their first ships, women had fawned over his friend. Sergei had thought that no one would look at a red-haired, freckle-faced tall thin man of Russian birth, the grandson of Pavel Chekov of the legendary Enterprise, given to drinking vodka always neat. Svetlana had looked at him. She looked at Pavel Chekov's grandson after she fell for Chakotay.
Sergei sighed. Svetlana loved him, Sergei, with great depth of passion, and he believed she had to go through a baptism of meeting Chakotay first, and then making the right decision of meeting, loving and marrying Chakotay's best friend. Women fell for Chakotay's dark looks, the short cropped raven black hair, the way his eyes narrowed when he smiled, the dimples, the warrior-like aggression that lurked just beneath the charm, the air of mystery - the whole package. Chakotay was just so damned…handsome. A waste, Sergei thought, after Caroline had been through with him.
Caroline.
The Viper he called her. Black Widow. Chakotay had fallen hard for Caroline Meissen. He had never had many liaisons with girls, and none that could be counted serious or unforgettable. Then Caroline came along. Special Medical Assistant - an elevated name they gave to nurses. Caroline had been wrong for Chakotay from the start. Sergei sighed. Her reputation had preceded her when she was commissioned to the same vessel he and Chakotay had been on while in their mid-twenties. She was into men. Chakotay was a gentle person at heart, so at odds with his bearing - a proud man, a private person. Caroline had played him like a violin, to what end, Sergei didn't know. He knew this: Caroline looked on Chakotay as a possible conquest; she conquered the heart of the warrior, made him defenceless, then dropped him like a hot potato. Then she moved on to the next man, to find something novel, something different on the menu elsewhere. There were many women like Caroline Meissen. They offered much, delivered little, then dumped the hapless victim. Only, Caroline didn’t wait to dump her man. Chakotay found her in her cabin one evening between men. Literally.
He had given her his heart, and she trashed it with cold disdain. After that, Chakotay steered very far away from women, not letting them within a parsec of his life. Those who did, entered and exited within hours.
"You gonna stare at me till we reach Earth's Orbital Station?" Chakotay asked. Sergei chuckled, then gave a sheepish grin.
"You know, a man finding someone really special, an honour, a privilege, to meet a woman whom he knows is going to be the one he wants to spend the rest of his days with - who knows? This might be your lucky break, Chak."
"I thought I had someone special."
Chakotay muttered under his breath, but Sergei caught the sudden glint of anger in his eyes. He sighed. It was the closest Chakotay had come to talking about Caroline. His friend had been badly burned; he wasn't walking into the lion's den again. But Svetlana had been adamant: Chakotay was heading for Starfleet Command one day where he would rival Admiral Owen McKenzie Paris and Admiral Nechayev as the most dour, terse, austere, unsmiling, bent-on-discipline, successfully hiding all feeling Admiral. It was Sergei's duty as his best friend to convert Chakotay to the idea that not all women were vipers and spiders. One way to do it was to introduce the lonely Native American to women who, she knew from reports, were beautiful, kind, tough and smart.
"Chakotay, for what it's worth, for that time it was special. But it's over my friend, and I - "
"I know it's over, damn it!"
"Fine. Then make me the happiest of friends and date this woman, take her to the Juilliard Command Performance Festival, and take her home afterwards. Have coffee with her, for God's sake. She's in Paris. You'll have to meet her there..." Sergei tugged at the laces and finally everything was loose.
"I'm not going." Chakotay pulled his hands out of the gloves and pressed his lips resolutely.
"It might be your last chance - "
With his hand free, Chakotay gripped Sergei's shoulders.
"Look, I'm fine. When we get home, I'll be off to Mexico, and next week, I will be at Anatoly's birthday party. We have five weeks, Sergei, and I intend to spend it alone."
Sergei didn't want to ask Chakotay why visiting his father Kolopak was not on his list. He had battled with Chakotay enough and felt a little bashed around, in a manner of speaking.
"The concert's on Friday night - "
'You don't listen, do you?"
"No, I don't. Now, what do you say?"
Chakotay gave a deep sigh as he gathered his tog bag and slung it over his shoulder. He knew he was acting like a boor. He had no inclination to go anywhere except to Mexico, when they disembarked. The thought of accompanying a woman, to a classical concert of all things, gave him the shivers. He relented finally.
"Okay, Sergei, I'll let you know on Wednesday."
Sergei wanted to pull Chakotay into a giant Russian bear hug and kiss him on both cheeks so relieved he was. Sergei was so relieved he pulled Chakotay into a bear hug and kissed him on both cheeks.’
"Hey, I haven't said yes!" Chakotay complained, as he finally pushed Sergei away from him.
"That's okay. You're about four days away from meeting the woman of your dreams, my friend. Just you wait and see. Your life will never be the same again!"
"Yeah, right."
Chakotay believed Caroline had done enough to change his view of women forever. He needed to think, and going to so see Grey Eagle might just be the inspiration he needed. They exited the holodeck, walking briskly towards the first turbolift and hurried off to their respective quarters. Chakotay was due on the bridge.
He was hoping to get his own vessel soon. He had given up his Instructors post at Starfleet Academy and opted for active duty. It was where the action was, and he wanted to be there. It always thrilled him: the prospect of commanding his own ship, to apply his wide range of knowledge of tactical manoeuvring in battle situations. He knew all the traps….. manoevres – he’d created a few new ones himself. Now he was only one step away from getting his own ship.
Already, Evasive Manoeuvre Charlie Kord was credited to him, and he was awaiting accreditation on the Epileng Cross Manoeuvre. He sighed again as he entered his quarters. Sergei had given him something to ponder on, and he knew he'd spend the night rolling around restlessly, trying to manoeuvre. out of a possible blind date.
***
Life on board the Ormskirk had spoiled him, Chakotay thought as he made his way across the dusty track to the compound where he knew he'd find Grey Eagle. The desert air was dry, the sun beat down on him. The sweat dripped into his eyes, the saltiness of it burning before he attempted to wipe his eyes with his handkerchief. He was hot, bothered, but he had wanted to see Grey Eagle before he went to his home base in San Francisco and mull over Sergei's threat to sever their friendship if he didn't escort whatshername to a command performance in France for the President of the Federation.
He stopped, took out a flask from his back pack, and drank thirstily, then he continued over the dusty terrain. He had always found Grey Eagle a most restful man, and one of the few concessions Chakotay made to his Native American heritage was visiting and acknowledging the wisdom of the old man.
Sergei was right. He had little inclination to go home to Dorvan V and spend some time with his family. Kolopak wore the sign of his tribe, given him in a ritual that the teenage Chakotay had found wasteful, irrelevant, so...out of touch with reality. Kolopak was deeply spiritual, an aspect of his character strengthen after their visit to the Rubber Tree People. As a young boy escorting his father, he had been irritable, impatient with Kolopak, and in a hurry to get home, and get into the Academy.
And now Sergei, who wanted to hitch him with a woman.
Chakotay sighed. The very thought of tying his destiny to another person left him in a state of panic. Even now as he approached the compound and could already see the figure of Grey Eagle sitting cross-legged working on a sculpture, just thinking that he'd have to sit next to someone he didn't know, smell her scent, inhale freshly washed hair, and have to be civil, courteous and nice, gave him the willies. He'd do that, but his heart belonged to him now, and no one else. It was his prize, his personal destiny, a precious treasure he was foolishly possessive enough not to want to share.
He had done that, and Caroline had trampled all over him. He had been mad, idiotic, brainless not to at the time, not to listen to kind and soft-spoken counsel from his closest friends, how one-dimensional Caroline was, how shallow and devious, crude when not in his company, coarse and malicious. He had been simply Caroline's passing fancy, while he... Chakotay sighed. He was stupid. Stupid, stupid! He’d loved her with the voracious appetite of his youth, had believed every utterance of love and loyalty, every pledge to be by his side forever, had imagined that no other woman could ever pleasure him in bed and he pleasure her in their lovemaking like Caroline. He had spoken of marriage, of having babies with her. How had he missed the signals, the manner in which she cleverly managed to avoid making any commitment? How had he missed the sympathetic and sometimes unkind glances of fellow crew on a large vessel like the Exeter? They had known… With hindsight he realised they had been participants…that they thought he knew what was happening.
The day he surprised Caroline in her quarters… He had been excited, thrilled at being based at Headquarters and taking up his first posting as an instructor in Tactical Training. He wanted to tell her they could have a life together, permanently. He had a ring in his pocket. He closed his eyes, tried to block out the shame, the humiliation of seeing her. She had taken a look at him from where she had been wedged between two men who were fucking her, paused momentarily to release herself from one and asked: "Want to help fuck me, Chakotay?" There was a look on her face, flushed and cruel , smiling malevolently at him as she invited him to join in. The men, one junior officer and one crewman he recognised vaguely, smirked when they looked at him, then continued grunting all over Caroline. She had dropped all reserve, all former courtesy and decency. He had been repulsed. He had known in that instant, realised with belated and blinding insight, that what he was witnessing was not a first time occurrence. Riding hot on that realisation came the knowledge that he had been only a diversion from her crude sexual practices. Hardly had he recovered from his shock when she turned her attention away from him, pulled her partner back into her mouth and continued as if Chakotay had never been there and if she was accustomed to having an audience. The caring and concerned warning of his friends, his own denial had only hit him later. His heart bled for years at the way Caroline treated him.
He was not going to walk down that road again. Never.
He reached Grey Eagle and stood, watching in silence how the old man used his knife to carve and sculpt from the raw piece of wood. He knew sometime soon during his conversation with the old man, that piece of wood would be a gleaming eagle...
"You take away my sun, Cha-ko-tay," the old man breathed without looking up.
Chakotay smiled at the way the old man knew it was him and said his name with such an inflection in his voice. Kolopak did the same... Chakotay quickly shifted so that he stood on the other side of Grey Eagle. The old Indian waved with his hand - the one holding the knife - for Chakotay to seat himself on a broad stump opposite him.
"Greetings, Grey Eagle." Chakotay removed his back pack and put it down next to him.
The old man didn't look up and continued carving, smoothing, rubbing the wood lovingly with knotty fingers.
"Greetings to you too, son of Kolopak."
"I seek your counsel, Grey Eagle," Chakotay said without preamble.
"I know."
"Then you know that I hesitate..."
"It troubles you, the thought that you would lose your heart again to a woman?"
Only then did Grey Eagle look up. He was a study in contrasts, Chakotay thought. A Native American who had grey eyes, it was this feature that won the old man that name. He had come out of his mother's womb furiously waving his arms. His skin was as tanned as Chakotay's, but his movements were gentle; the way he caressed the wood was testimony to his love of creating a work of art out of a piece of dead wood. The wood came alive in Grey Eagle's hands. Alive and beautiful, breathing depth and mellowness at the same time. The man was a visionary. He had to be. Chakotay had made no mention of his date, yet Grey Eagle homed in on his dilemma.
And a dilemma it was. He felt apprehensive, felt like he was fifteen again and couldn't breathe whenever Cadet Inam had walked past him at the Academy. When Inam actually halted in front of him one day, smiled at him with her golden brown eyes, he thought he'd die of asphyxiation. No, it wasn't really that kind of apprehension, he conceded. It was a mix of fear, of deep mistrust of women, and the fact that he'd have to be close to one for one whole evening and talk.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t had liaisons after Caroline. He shuddered. For a while he had gone on a rutting rampage. He’d punished every woman, had rough sex with her, then moved on. If he admitted it to himself, he was acting pretty much like Caroline. Still, he had laid down the parameters every time he had sex: When it's over, it's over. I walk. You walk. No one gets hurt.
Eventually he got tired. It had to happen. He was searching, not finding. He stopped searching, so the finding became irrelevant. Now, he had to make a decision. It would have been easy to say no to Sergei. It should have been easy, no discussion involved. So why was he even considering it?
Why, indeed?
"I have armoured myself, Grey Eagle."
"No one is ever armoured, Cha-ko-tay, no matter how thick the metal." Grey Eagle looked up, squinting as he stared at Chakotay. "You wish to challenge an old man on that?"
"No. I don't. I have to accompany a woman to a concert."
Chakotay gave a deep sigh. There, it was out. An admission, if ever there was one, that he was curious enough to meet the woman, that he might be making himself vulnerable again. It was no longer hesitating to make a decision; no longer an easy refusal, but an acknowledgement that he wanted to do it.
"A beautiful woman, Cha-ko-tay."
"I have never seen her, Grey Eagle."
Grey Eagle was still for a long time. His fingers deftly manipulated the wood; he was engrossed in smoothing the rough edges with his knife. Chakotay watched as the old man worked. Already he could see the wings, the head and curved beak of the eagle. Grey Eagle's long white hair hung loosely over his shoulders; he looked like…an angel. Chakotay smiled inwardly. An old man with wings… Then Grey Eagle looked up at the brilliant blue sky. He followed the old man's gaze. Silhouetted against the sun, an eagle soared, higher and higher, executing exquisite aerial manoeuvres. Then it hovered above them, as if it knew the two men were watching it. Chakotay simply stared, unable to put the beauty of the visual spectacle into words, knowing that no man has ever managed to emulate completely, a magnificent eagle in flight.
"See there, Chakotay? In flight, there is nothing more natural, more majestic than the eagle as it climbs against the sky. See how she spreads her wings? She's confident, knows where and what her destination is...and those destinations she doesn't know, she flies towards by instinct, even if danger lurks at the next turn...even if she doesn't know what lies at the end…"
Chakotay gazed as the eagle hovered against the sun, before swiftly making off into the distance. He couldn't decide whether Grey Eagle was referring to the bird, or the woman he was supposed to accompany. What he knew was that Grey Eagle's philosophy, so home-spun and without pretence, had calmed him. He was touched by the old man's simplicity, his close to the earth lifestyle that was so at variance with twenty fourth century day to day living. For a moment Kolopak's face flashed before Chakotay. He saw the tattoo, remembered the day the tribal elders of the Rubber Tree People had painted the symbol above Kolopak's left eyebrow… Then he closed his eyes, willing away the kind eyes of his father. He looked at Grey Eagle, and for the first time the man's face relaxed into a gentle smile.
"Yes, that is the way of the warrior…" Grey Eagle added, then became interested in his wood carving again, the knife moving with dextrous ease over the sculpture.
Chakotay chuckled. He felt relieved.
"You are telling me I must follow my heart and await my destiny."
"I am telling you that you are a fool to be afraid, Cha-ko-tay. These are the risks of life, and if you do not take them, you will never know." Grey Eagle waved the knife in front of Chakotay as he spoke.
Chakotay understood that logic. He was curious about seeking out new worlds, finding the unexpected on different worlds that constantly amazed him. Most of them held an element of risk, but he was hungry, thirsty for knowledge and exploration. So why should he be afraid of a date? Hell, he had only to get to the woman's door, hold out his arm, have her rest her hand on it, and they'd be off to the concert. What could be worse than that?
The risk of losing his heart. He wasn't willing to do that and have Caroline's malevolent eyes stare at him through that of a beautiful woman. That's what. Still, his old curiosity, his pledge to Sergei to give his friend a call, his conversation with Grey Eagle who was as mysterious as the life he found so full of mystery and challenge, won the day.
Maybe it was time.
"I guess I will never know if I don't go, right?"
"Cha-ko-tay, you do not know this woman; you will fly to this destination not knowing what is the risk. She will do the same. Your destiny will be woven."
"How do you know, Grey Eagle?"
"Because out of the unknown has often sprung life's greatest gifts."
Chakotay couldn't argue with such sage expressions. He didn't necessarily believe the contents, but the passionately prophetic manner in which Grey Eagle spoke, the conviction in his voice, settled the turmoil in Chakotay. The Indian's words calmed him, and he felt a momentary regret at not staying any longer. He would have liked to remain for days in Grey Eagle's company. Perhaps another time.
Chakotay smiled, nodded, then rose from his seat. Grey Eagle's hand shot out.
"Here, let this be your gift to her."
Surprised, Chakotay took the eagle. The old man had been shaving, carving, polishing and Chakotay had hardly realised it, but when he held the wooden carving in his hand, it lay there on his palm, complete, reverently kissed by the sun's rays. Perfect, its wings spread, each feature appointed, clear and so real, Chakotay thought it could fly off his hand any time.
"T-Thank you," Chakotay stammered, too awed that Grey Eagle had given him something rare, precious, not so much in the physical sense, but also in the symbolic meaning behind the presentation of the gift. "I will give it to the lady..." he promised.
"Now, be off with you, Cha-ko-tay. One day, bring your destiny here..."
Chakotay nodded again, and without speaking another word, he left Grey Eagle who had already picked up another piece of wood and was again preoccupied, carving away at it.
***
It was Wednesday and Chakotay had been busy planning another sand painting, and listening to Mozart's clarinet concerto. He didn't particularly like classical music, but he didn't want to look totally out of touch with all things cultural, especially in the sphere of music, when he met his date. A little warmth spread in him; his heart quickened at the prospect of Friday evening. He was curious to see and he wanted to get the evening over and done with. After that he could get on with his life and hope that Sergei would leave him alone for a while.
"Computer, who is the soloist in this recording of the concerto?"
"Cadet Harry S. Kim, of the Juilliard Youth Orchestra."
Chakotay continued with his painting. A woman in a long, flowing gossamer gown, her features pale and faint, yet at the same time distinct. There was an ethereal touch to the figure, as if it could float away and dissolve into the light. He smiled. It was the first time since his teen days that he had unearthed his old skill again; he was surprised at his own deftness, that he hadn't lost his touch. He hadn't stopped to wonder what brought on this sudden burst of creativity; his work first as an instructor, then on starships had somehow fulfilled his driving need to explore the heavens. He had all but moved it to a place in his heart where lay all his capacity for loving, gentility, vulnerability. He grimaced. Caroline had seen to it that there was nothing left of him. Working like this was always a risk. He smiled, thinking of Grey Eagle's words. In his work he laid bare his soul, and offered anyone looking closely enough, ammunition to destroy him if they chose.
His vidcom beeped and he looked up distractedly, realising he hadn't contacted Sergei yet. Sighing, he got up. Sergei was going to give ten whoops of delight, and then say: "Comrade, I told you you would do it." He hated gloating.
Chakotay switched on his console.
"Have you decided?" No greeting, no preamble. Sergei looked as if he’d been exercising extremely hard outdoors and as if Chakotay had been running alongside him. The man was already so thin. Sergei was flushed. Had he run inside from somewhere? Chakotay wondered. No matter.
"I have."
"And?"
"It's a deal."
Chakotay closed his eyes as Sergei let fly with a victory cry. Then he looked at his friend again. Sergei grinned maliciously.
"You won't be sorry, comrade. Now, shall I give you the dirty low-down or just a plain rundown on the lady?"
"Lady?"
"Indeed, comrade."
"I don't want to know. She may have ten moles, though that won't matter."
Sergei was quiet a moment, his look pensive. Chakotay frowned.
"What?"
"She's the daughter of an admiral."
"Oh, Christ, Sergei! Now you're telling me! I hate those brats. And - and they're full of themselves." Chakotay pulled his face and Sergei guffawed. At the Academy Cadet Wegenstrom, daughter of an admiral, had been the most obnoxious brat who wouldn't leave the two of them alone.
"She's about your age - "
"Wegenstrom?"
"Hell, no! But, I'm not telling."
"I'm not going."
"You bloody well will go, dammit! I didn't go to all this trouble for nothing - "
"What trouble? Looking up a name in the Federation database?"
"Hell, Chak, you know you could have done that too. Why didn't you?"
"I wasn't interested enough? Or, dare I say it, comrade, since this is a blind date, let's keep it blind?"
"Chakotay, Svetlana is going to skin me alive if you don't go..."
Chakotay gave a deep sigh, then a smile spread slowly on his face.
"Tell Svetlana she's not to worry; she mustn't skin you, I'll do that myself, and she must bake my favourite cake."
"Black Forest."
"She can replicate it - "
"Don't you dare! You know how Svetlana is. She hates replicators."
"Now there's someone my father would like - "
Sergei groaned at the sarcastic tone of Chakotay's voice.
"Come on now, Chakotay. Leave your father out of this."
"Fine. Where am I supposed to meet her, did you say?"
"In Paris, you imbecile. Here's the address. Be there!"
Sergei spent a few seconds punching in the address. When he finished, Chakotay looked at him.
"I hope I'll not regret this, Sergei Karkoff. I hope I won't..."
****