New Fic: "The First Date" (Romance, PG)
Title: The First Date
Rating/Codes: PG, Romance/Drabble
Summary: Just what the title says. This is one idea of what their first date could have been like.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or STV and don't make any money off this.
Warnings: None
He didn't look at her as they entered the bar, not even when choosing a table. He picked a seat as far away from her as he could get and then leaned back in his chair as thought it wasn't far enough. Did he regret asking her out? Quickly, as everyone began to form social groups, she ran through everything she had said and done, but found nothing reprehensible that could explain his distant behaviour. It was frustrating, this sudden need to know what was on his mind. That she couldn't just ask him compounded the irritation.
The Doctor made an appearance sometime during the night, but Seven was too preoccupied to pay him any real attention. Even when he sat next to her and chatted endlessly at her, she only listened enough to know when to nod. She sighed internally, unable to help thinking no one gave her enough credit for her ability to deal with irritating situations.
The Doctor's chatter was like a mosquito in her ear, but she resisted the urge to slap at him.
Despite her control, she knew the crew thought of her as cold and harsh. And despite her constant reassurances to herself that it didn't matter what the crew thought, it was still beginning to bother her. It seemed the longer she spent on Voyager, the more she cared about her appearance in their eyes.
She caught B'Elanna watching her and the Doctor with amusement. Seven had to repress a smirk, doubting the engineer could handle half of what she put up with on a daily basis. The Klingon would likely have ripped apart the Doctor's programming one command code at a time had she been the one with the physiology that required weekly maintenance. And yet... her thoughts turned dark. And yet, B'Elanna was the one with the people skills. So long as the half Klingon wasn't angry, she was admired, even liked by the general crew. She was certainly more trusted.
Quickly, not wanting to give away her own thoughts, Seven turned away and caught Chakotay staring. In the second before he turned, Seven scrutinized his expression. As always, it was unreadable. The most she could determine was that he was upset about something. A slight frown and extra crease in his forehead marred his calm appearance. Again, she wondered if she had done something wrong.
Too distracted to enjoy the games of pool or the various conversations of others, Chakotay and Seven gravitated towards each other despite her anxiety and his resolution to keep her at arms length. Neither realized how weak they were when it came to each other. Like two magnets, they couldn't resist each other's pull. They sat and watched the others having fun, not always talking, but not always silent either.
As one hour and then another wore on, Chakotay found himself making small talk, enjoying the honest and utterly simple answers he received from the ex-Borg.
It was very much like her experiments. She hadn't expected that, not really. It wasn't supposed to feel the same. Her version of Chakotay had always been so easy to get along with. She had assumed that was because her version was a hologram, programmed to be what she wanted and needed. Because her scenarios skipped over the initial attractions, the awkwardness of the first date, the first confessions, she had assumed that was the only reason for the success of the relationship. It appeared her theory was wrong. Even though they were only beginning to explore friendship, she felt the same easy comradeship.
He asked about her likes and dislikes, finding himself surprised that she enjoyed classical music and was learning piano from the Doctor. He filed that bit of information away, wondering if she would play for him. He didn't realize her favourite colour changed now an then from blue to red to pink or even that she had a favourite colour until he asked. She liked fresh fruit even more than cheesecake, hated coffee, and more than the headache later, she didn't like the feeling of losing control when she had alcohol.
He admitted to feeling the same way about a lot, but edited his answers to even more. It would take a lot to get him to admit that his favourite colour was quickly becoming the shade of blue that tinted her eyes, that he wanted to watch her play the piano to see if she would add her own style to his favourite pieces. He wouldn't admit that he suddenly regretted not having musical talent to share when she had an abundance of it. He liked the way she smiled at him, like they were sharing a private joke, one that no one else would ever hear. He liked that he didn't have to struggle for a topic to discuss because she enjoyed talking about mundane things like work. And if they lapsed into silence, then that was fine by her too. It was simple and it was easy, not something he would ever have expected. He liked that too.
Too late, he realized the angle of his feelings, that he was liking his time with her just a bit too much. He tried to halt his thoughts, but they kept going on without him. It was just too hard to not be attracted to the woman - that's all he saw in her now - and want to be closer. He imagined things he'd like to do with Seven and continued realizing new things he liked about her.
They weren't the first ones to leave, but they didn't stay to the end of the evening either. Thankful for once for early morning shifts, Chakotay used this an excuse for him and Seven to leave together, careful to keep his expression polite and friendly, like their arrival and exit wasn't being silently choreographed to look more innocent than it really was. Seven proved to be more skilled at duplicity than he would have thought. No one looked twice as they said their goodbyes casually and exited. For all the world, they looked as though they were no more than acquaintances.
Once out in the hallway, they walked together again, careful to keep an appropriate distance from each other as they continued asking questions. Every now and then a hand or shoulder would touch, brushing against the other person until it was stiffly pulled away, out of shyness or embarrassment. Chakotay wondered if Seven felt the heat, the almost tangible thrill of energy between them when this happened.
Every time their hands brushed, he felt a jolt go all the way up his arm and he had to stop himself from grabbing her hand and entwining their fingers. By her sudden silences, he thought she might feel it too. He marvelled at it. For a first date, they had covered a lot of ground. And yet, it wasn't that surprising. They had been together on the same small ship for a long time now. He already knew her better than he had known any other woman he'd asked on a date. Considering how easily Seven answered questions about herself - even some of the more personal ones he'd delved into - he suspected he might know her better already than he did Janeway.
Once again, Chakotay found himself watching Seven walk. It was almost too easy to match his casual stride to her rhythm. Because he had thought about it on and off all night and because the close of the evening was coming on so quickly that he subconsciously knew this would be his last chance, Chaktoay's hand rose, seemingly of its own volition. It touched the small of Seven's back for only a moment, a few seconds before he realized what he was doing might not be the best idea he'd ever had.
He watched Seven's face carefully, looking for evidence that he had crossed a line or caused insult. Besides turning her head ever so slightly at the touch, she gave no sign that anything had happened. Chakotay wondered what that meant.
Then, a sigh.
It wasn't loud and Chakotay wondered if Seven even realized she had done it, but it was a sigh of disappointment in any case.
Perhaps she was disappointed that he had taken such a liberty with her. That explanation didn't seem right. If she had a problem with being touched, she would say or do something... like break his arm.
With a feeling of epiphany, Chakotay wondered if she was disappointed because she wanted him to touch her. As far as he knew Seven had only ever been on one date before this. She had no boyfriend, few close friends, and no one she interacted with outside of work on a regular basis. The Doctor counted, but only to a degree. Photons and forcefields were no comparison to warm flesh and the knowledge, however subconscious, that your partner could and did constantly change, that they liked you because of attraction, not computer programming.
He imagined how that sort of life would feel. He didn't have to imagine too hard. His own periods of isolation were like stints in the desert. Humans are instinctually driven to seek companionship, he thought to himself. And it had been years - eighteen to be precise - since Seven shared a real closeness with anyone. Was she starved for contact, for the simple enjoyment of another being's touch, even a platonic touch? He would be. He was.
They made it to the lift and stood together in silence. It was the most awkward ride of Chakotay's life. They didn't say anything and no matter how hard he tried, Chakotay couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't sound worse than the silence. The minute felt like an hour. Chakotay's hand rose, and fell several times, wanting to settle on Seven's back again, until he forced himself to clench the appendage at his side.
He snuck a glance at Seven's face. She appeared mostly as she always did. Stoic was the usual characteristic one would apply to her, but there was something else lurking in her expression. Her usually clear eyes were focussed inward, concentrating on some internal thought. Seven's pale fingers, five encased in metal and five elegant and whole, were all clenched at her side. The similarity between their postures settled Chakotay's internal debate. Still a bit worried she might hit him, he lay his hand where it wanted, instinctually, to be.
Seven felt the movement before she even felt the light, almost timid pressure of Chakotay's hand on her back. It was a completely new experience, this hypersensitivity to another person's movements. She wondered if it was common for humans who had just one date - there was no denying that's what it was anymore - to feel so connected to the one they were with. She didn't think so, but then she had little experience and it could be her imagination.
A tiny sigh escaped her before she could stop it. The sound embarrassed her, but she couldn't help it now, nor could she stop herself from leaning a little into the hand at her back.
Chakotay didn't say anything, just allowed his hand to rest in the curve between ribs and hips.
So simple a thing, and yet it felt incredible. Seven had no words, no explanation for the pleasure.
Chakotay's large hand was warm and surprisingly gentle where it rested. She concentrated on the feel of it, the way his fingers didn't push or grip but supported, almost as though holding her up with their ridiculously light pressure. It was so strange, this strength she felt through the connection. She didn't want the feeling to end. Chakotay held the rest of his body perfectly still and calm, as though waiting to be pushed away. She had no intentions of doing so.
If given the option, Seven would have willingly stayed in that position with him for the rest of the evening, maybe even encouraged more... more what?
Her yearnings broke off with no experience to guide them. All he had done was place a hand on her back. How absurd that such a simple action would bring out these thoughts and feelings in her. She wanted - no, she craved more physical touch, but had no idea what should come next and no idea how to ask for it.
Suddenly she needed space. She needed to clear her head of these unusual thoughts and figure out what was happening.
In the furthest recesses of her mind, the part naturally inclined towards self preservation, she could feel the threat of the ominous ticking looming, coming closer with every treacherous emotion.
The lift doors opened and Seven led the way out, moving quickly, so quickly in fact that Chakotay wondered if he had been wrong. Maybe she hadn't wanted him to touch her. Maybe that he was a commanding officer had been the only thing that kept her temper in check.
Chakotay's fingers shifted and Seven forgot the threat of the Borg failsafe.
They continued on their way. Chakotay's hand fell away from her back to preserve their agreement for discretion and to hide his loss of confidence. He settled into step next to her once more, watching her out of the corner of his eye.
She was frowning, though she didn't appear angry. More than anything, he wanted to ask her what she was thinking. The way her forehead crinkled in thought wasn't encouraging and he decided he might not want to know the specifics.
He remembered his doubts from earlier. They seemed both silly and completely valid. Perhaps the idea of asking Seven out had been a huge mistake. He was thankful they were keeping things quiet, just between them. And yet, he had enjoyed himself, had found her intriguing and even entertaining at times. She held his attention far longer than any other woman on Voyager. That brought him up short. He missed a step, thankful that Seven wasn't paying close enough attention to notice him almost trip on his own feet.
When did that happen? He wondered at that thought, and yet knew it to be completely true.
She interested him more than anyone. Even when he held a torch for Kathryn, he hadn't felt so... intrigued, like his whole day was being centred around her. He enjoyed asking Seven simple questions that no one else would, questions that seemed superficial but were the brushstrokes that made up the masterpiece of her mind. He found her childhood desire to be a ballerina - borne from her parents taking her to see The Nutcracker - excessively fascinating. How odd, he thought.
The cargo bay doors appeared too soon for Chakotay's liking.
For Seven, the end of their evening brought both relief and a sense of deprivation that she didn't fully understand. The desire to sort through her thoughts and the events of the evening was nearly overwhelming. Were she with anyone else, she might have disappeared into her refuge without more than a hasty goodbye. However, she was with Chakotay, a commanding officer, and the first subject of her most romantic interests - however brief and holographic the experience might have been. She stopped just outside the doorway, turning to say a brief goodnight and thank him for the evening.
"This was... fun," said Chakotay. He hesitated only for a second, thinking that 'fun' didn't quite fit, but it was all he could think of.
Seven raised a brow and nodded shyly. She didn't think it was the right term either, but was at a similar loss for a description.
"Would you like to get together again?"
Her head snapped up, surprise evident on her face, and Chakotay couldn't help but puzzle over what she could be thinking. What had she really thought about their evening out? Had the same doubts that plagued him bothered her as well?
"I..."
"A real date this time," he pressed, uncertain where the flow of words was coming from, but unable to stop. The invitation bubbled up from somewhere deeper than his controlled thoughts. "I think I owe you that after my poor planning for tonight."
"You don't owe me anything." A very brighter hue of pink rose to her cheeks and she looked down.
"All right, I might not officially owe you, but I still think you should get the proper experience." He wondered if she would pick up that he was teasing, trying to lighten the mood. He liked the colour of her blushing cheeks, but he didn't want her to feel awkward or shy. "Unless you're not interested."
Seven met his eyes, but only briefly. "I would like to." She took a deep breath, steadying herself for an honest answer. She forced her eyes to meet his, to try and exude a confidence she didn't feel. "I found your company tonight... agreeable."
"Really?" He wondered if he misheard. The corners of his lips twitched upwards.
"What should we do next?" Her shoulders straightened a bit, a reflex she had when she was uncomfortable. Still, it was an encouraging answer even if it came in the form of a question.
Chakotay's smile widened. "Anything you want."
"Then..." Seven took a breath to steady herself, almost tripping over the final word, "it's a date."
Chakotay nodded his head, bidding her a good night, and Seven couldn't help the answering lift of her own lips. She continued smiling even when the doors had slid closed and she stepped up to her alcove. As she reflected on the evening and thought about their promise for a proper date, the smile grew.
The End
