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B'Elanna Torres Personal Log, Stardate 52273.4: Tom is really getting on my nerves. He missed our lunch date again. I know I shouldn't let it get to me, but…we see so little of each other and these lunch dates are really the only time I have with him anymore. I don't know, maybe…maybe I'm expecting too much of him. He's handsome and charming, in that idiotic way of his, but…maybe he'll always be that crazy flyboy. Maybe I'm asking too much for him to settle down and grow up.
The chime of the door caused B'Elanna's eyes to pop open. Who could possibly… she thought as she reached for her robe. Standing, she slipped it around herself and walked to the door.
"Who is it?" she asked groggily, leaning against the wall next to the door. She was pretty sure she knew the answer, but she asked anyway.
"It's Tom," came a muffled voice from the other side of the door. She knew it. He was here, probably with a bouquet of flowers, to try and apologize for missing their date.
"What do you want, Tom?" She asked in a weary voice.
"I wanted to apologize," he said through the door, "Could you let me in?"
B'Elanna sighed and pressed the button to open the door. It slid open to reveal a smiling Tom Paris holding a bouquet of flowers, just as she had predicted. What she wasn't expecting was what kind of flowers they were.
"Orchids, Tom?" She asked incredulously, "Really?"
"What?" He looked at the pristine white flowers in his hand, bewildered, "I thought orchids were your favorite."
"Roses, Tom," she said, fighting a smile, "I like roses. Red ones."
"Oh," Tom's face fell, looking very much like a wounded puppy, "I guess I'll come back with the right ones."
She cursed herself. With those eyes and that scolded puppy expression, as Seven might say, resistance was futile. She stepped aside, holding out her hand to usher him in. He smiled a knowing, self-satisfied smile. He had known all along that the ploy would work, she realized. He had probably picked the orchids on purpose. Still, she wasn't stopping him as he stepped past her and into her quarters.
He stopped at the coffee table and looked around. After a moment, he looked to her. "Do you have something to put these in?" He asked.
"You had better have a damn good reason for missing our lunch date today," she said, folding her arms and glaring at him. His own face turned apologetic as he set the flowers on the table.
"I don't," he admitted, surprising the hell out B'Elanna with his honesty, "I got caught up in charting our course for next month across that nebula. I'm worried about Seven and the Doc going through this thing alone. I just forgot."
"But you think it's a good idea to com to my quarters at…" she put her forehead in one hand as she realized she didn't know what time it was, "Computer, time."
The computer chimed, "The time is oh three hundred and twenty-four hours." She waved her hand at Tom, feeling her point had been proven.
He sighed, hanging his head slightly, "I just finished up with Seven in Astrometrics. I stopped by the Hydroponics Bay to pick up the flowers and came to see you. I needed to apologize. I really am sorry."
B'Elanna knew he was sorry. He really wasn't a bad guy, and she knew he cared about her. Finally, she sighed, "You had better not miss tomorrow's lunch, flyboy, or you'll never make it to your stasis pod."
He moved toward her, laying his hands on her shoulders, "I won't, I promise."
He started to lean in, but she pulled away, "Oh, you don't think you're getting a goodnight kiss."
"Just a little one?" he asked.
"Out," she said, hoping that he hadn't heard the little bit of mirth in her voice. She realized it was a vain hope when he didn't back away.
"Fine, I'll kiss you then," he said before putting his lips to her cheek and started making exaggerated smooching sounds.
She tried to say I'll break your nose, flyboy, but it came out as a girlish squeal followed by a fit of giggles. She finally pushed him off and tried to look angry, but the damage was done. He smiled at her, that infuriating, incredibly charming smile, leaned in for one more quick kiss on the cheek, then left.
B'Elanna silently cursed herself for another minute or two before pulling off her robe and heading to bed.
Seven of Nine's personal log, Stardate 52274.8: The Doctor has advised that, with my advanced progress in his social lessons, I test out my skills in real social setting. I believe that the most efficient time to attempt this would be between twelve hundred and thirteen hundred hours, as a large portion of the crew gathers at this time in the mess hall to have lunch.
Seven walked into the mess hall at precisely twelve hundred hours. As she expected, a large portion of the crew was gathered, laughing, talking, and eating. As she gazed around the room, apprehension began to gather the muscles in her back in an unpleasant way. She briefly considered turning to leave, but the thought of having to tell the Doctor that she shied away from the task kept her rooted firmly in place. I can do this, she thought, This is simply another task to complete, nothing more. I shall accomplish it in my usual, efficient manner.
"Seven!" a voice called from behind her. She turned to see Ensign Kim entering the mess hall.
"Hello, Ensign," she said, then, with some effort, "How are you today?"
Ensign Kim smiled, "Doctor been giving you social lessons again?"
Seven quirked an eyebrow in surprise, "Yes. How did you know?"
"The 'how are you' sounded a little forced," he said, "But since you asked, I'm having a terrible day. I'm going cross-eyed looking at those sensor readings of the nebula. I'm still afraid I'll miss something that'll get to us in there."
"Doubtful," Seven responded, "You are a more than competent officer. I'm sure we will have no trouble crossing the nebula."
Ensign Kim Smiled again. He looked briefly at the mess hall before holding out his hand, "Care to join me for lunch?"
Seven let her gaze sweep across the mess hall one more time before saying, "Yes Ensign. Thank you."
The two walked up to the counter where Neelix was dishing out lunch. Seven looked at the meal. It appeared to be noodles in a thick, red sauce. It smelled pleasing, though she rarely indulged in Neelix's cooking. The nutritional supplements provided in Voyager's database were sufficient for her purposes.
"Seven," the Talaxian said in his usual, jovial tone of voice, "It's not often I see you in here." He looked to Ensign Kim, "Did you finally ask her out on that lunch date?"
Seven turned to see an expression of shock on Ensign Kim's face. "What-No! Neelix, this isn't a date," he said hastily, "We ran into each other, that's all."
The exaggerated expression on Neelix's face told Seven he thought otherwise. It was then that she recalled lesson 29, "The Friendly Jibe."
"You did ask me to join you for lunch, Ensign," she said, "I realize that my experience is limited, but I do believe this could qualify as a date."
Ensign Kim opened his mouth, attempting to respond, but seeming to find no words. After a few seconds hesitation, he sighed.
"Yes, it's a date," he said in a defeated voice, "Happy now?"
Seven smiled slightly. The Doctor would be proud of her. And the situation was slightly humorous. Neelix, who had been watching the display with amusement, chuckled as he mixed the food he was serving. Seven looked again at the food. She wasn't sure what it was, but the more she looked at it, the more it looked like blood and chunks of gore in the bowl. She found it curious that, despite its unappetizing appearance, the smell continued to make her salivate.
Neelix must have seen her staring at the food because he tilted the bowl toward her slightly. "Spaghetti," he said with enthusiasm.
"Really?" Ensign Kim asked in disbelief, "What'd you use instead of tomatos?"
"Sadly I had to replicate those," the Talaxian answered, "There's nothing quite like an Earth tomato. So many flavors that can be used so many ways."
The answer seemed to please Kim, as he smiled and held out his hands eagerly for the plate that Neelix was spooning full for him.
"Is that meat?" Seven asked, reluctantly accepting her plate.
Neelix smiled, "Leola root, actually." Ensign Kim's smile instantly disappeared. Based on that reaction, and based on the various anecdotes she had heard from the crew about the unpleasantness of leola root, she decided that she would not actually eat this food. She wanted to give the plate back, but Ensign Kim was already leading her to a table. They sat on opposite sides of a table with four chairs. Ensign Kim picked up his fork and picked up a large chunk of the food.
"Here goes," he said. He then, with exaggerated effort, put the forkful in his mouth. After a moment of uncertainty, a smile spread across his face. "It's actually pretty good." When Seven didn't move, he said, "Try it. I think you'll like it. If Neelix keeps finding things like this to put leola root in, I might actually start asking for it."
Seven reluctantly grabbed her fork and scooped a small piece into her mouth. The taste was…pleasing. There were a number of spices as well as several smaller pieces of what Seven could only assume were other vegetables. She found the consistency a little disconcerting, but she decided she could get used to it, given time.
"You are correct, Ensign," she said, "This is enjoyable."
"Harry," he answered.
Seven looked questioningly at him. He gestured to himself, "My name is Harry. We're at lunch. It's okay to call me Harry."
Seven felt a twinge of uncertainty. "I apologize En-, Harry. I'm still learning."
Harry chuckled, "Its okay, Seven. So what brings you up here today?"
"My social lessons," she answered, scooping up another forkful of spaghetti, "The Doctor thought I should try a real social situation. It is more difficult than I imagined."
"You're the one who turned this into a date," Harry said, smirking. When she didn't smile back, he leaned forward, placing an elbow on the table next to his plate. "You're doing fine. Let's start off easy; tell me about your day."
Seven swallowed the bite she had taken, "I have spent most of the morning with the Doctor and Captain Janeway going over the course Lieutenant Paris and I charted last night. It is an efficient route through the nebula."
"How'd you like working with Tom?" Harry asked before shoving another forkful into his mouth.
"He is inefficient and given to flights of fancy," she said immediately. When she realized that she was talking to Lieutenant Paris' closest friend, she regretted the comment. Harry didn't seem to mind, laughing as though she had told a joke.
"Maybe you two should work together more," he said around a mouthful, "Some of your efficiency might rub off on him, and it wouldn't hurt if you had a flight of fancy or two yourself."
"Perhaps," she said, feeling the beginning of a smile touch her lips.
"Oh," Harry said, "Speak of the Devil. Tom! B'Elanna!"
Seven turned to see Lieutenants Paris and Torres walking away from the counter with full plates. Having seen them, the two made their way to the table. Harry picked up his plate and moved to the seat next to Seven, allowing Paris and Torres to sit across from them. Seven was at first apprehensive about having more people join them. She didn't seem to be faring well with only one person, and she didn't see how adding more to the mix would help. But, as they sat down, she realized that with more people, she might be able to watch more and interact less.
"So how's the scanning going, Harry?" Lieutenant Torres asked.
"Tedious," Harry responded, "I'm just so worried I'll miss something."
"Don't worry, Harry," Lieutenant Paris said, "Little miss efficient here will pick up on anything you miss. Trust me."
"If you are referring to the course you attempted to plot last night," Seven said before she could stop herself, "That portion of the nebula was far too dense. Even I would not be able survive that level of radiation."
"You didn't need to kick me out of Astrometrics." Paris answered.
"You refused to see reason," Seven countered.
Paris leaned forward "That route took almost a whole week off our journey. I thought you'd appreciate a little efficiency."
Seven leaned forward as well, "Not at the cost of our lives."
"Easy," Harry said, "There's no need to get hostile. You guys worked out you differences, didn't you?"
"Yeah," Paris answered, "Sort of."
Seven explained, "I told Lieutenant Paris that if he wished to stay, he had to accept that I had final say over the flight plan we presented to Captain Janeway."
Lieutenant Torres paused, her fork halfway to her mouth, " I never thought I'd see someone with no rank manage to pull rank on an officer."
She put the bite in her mouth. As she chewed, her expression changed to one of surprise. "Oh, that's really good," she said, "What is that?"
"Leola Root Spaghetti," Seven answered matter-of-factly.
"Leola root, huh?" Paris said, "You mean Neelix actually found something that plant is good for."
"It is quite pleasing," Seven said, taking another bite.
"A ringing endorsement," Harry said, smiling.