Disclaimer: ST: VOY is not mine. That single lyric I quoted belongs to whoever the hell wrote the song stuck in my head. Definitely doesn't belong to me.
Author's Note: Bad ficlet fluff happens when the author's brain breaks from a combination of studying, listening to Afternoon Delight on a loop, and wearing her sister's mesmerizing glow-in-the-dark dinosaur boxers. Yes, this is a happy sequel to Clandestine. Didn't think it was possible, did you?
Delight
By mistress amethyst une
"So how's the baby?" she asked.
"Doing just fine," he replied as he dipped her.
She giggled. "Aren't you glad we got divorced?"
"Annika, I can honestly say you surprise me everyday. Love your new manner of speaking, by the way."
They moved gracefully across the floor as they danced. She hummed the tune.
"With the fail-safe gone, it was a lot easier to 'assimilate' more casual human speech patterns."
"Language lessons from your husband?"
"Who else?"
He sighed as he twirled her. "Still can't believe how well this ended."
"What? Who says you can't be friends with your ex-wife?"
"It just seems a bit strange."
"Too good to be true?"
"You could say that."
"Well, it was a mutual agreement."
"Can't believe we brought each other the divorce documents on the same day."
She shrugged. "It was a welcome coincidence. We were driving each other crazy."
He dipped her again. "How so?"
"Oh, I don't know. You're a sweet guy. Something just didn't seem right, you know? I can't really explain it."
"You have no idea how strange it is hearing you speaking with contractions."
She shrugged. "I've been practicing. Do you have any idea how we fell apart just like that?"
They swayed with the beat. "Falling in love is perfectly natural. One can only assume the same for falling out of love."
"I suppose. Well, we're both happier for it, aren't we?"
"Definitely. How's the husband, by the way? He's doing a great job teaching you. Better than me, I admit."
"The same. Doing his duties at Starfleet Medical. He also has his little pet project. Reviving the ancient art of karaoke…"
Chakotay laughed. "I've taught a bit about that in my archaeology classes. It's twentieth century. How was it described? Performed in places where one goes to get intoxicated. A ritual characterized by singing, usually badly, in front of a group of strangers."
"Hm… maybe I shouldn't have encouraged him."
He dipped her one last time, as the song ended. When he had her back on her feet, she grinned at him.
"That's my cue," she winked.
She left him to go onstage. He saw the doctor stepping out of the crowd to join her. Music filled the air. Chakotay felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Care to dance, honey?" asked a familiar voice.
"I thought we agreed," he laughed. "No pet names, Admiral Kitty."
She gently punched him in the arm. "Call me that again, and you won't to live to see our next anniversary."
Chakotay jovially took Kathryn in his arms as the doctor began his part of the duet.
"Gonna find my baby, gonna hold her tight…"
Yes, Seven's out of character. Shoot me. I think I explained well enough why she's the way she is. :D