--Disclaimer-- Paramount owns all rights to characters, sets, yadda yadda yadda. I own nothing but the plots. All hail Paramount and TPTB…unless of course you're referring to Endgame. Then shoot them.
--Warning-- I am an avid J/Cer. If you are offended by this, do not keep reading. The following material may contain oodles of unbelievably cheesy J/C. Deal with it.
--R/R ing-- Please r/r. Flames welcome, as long as they're not along the lines of 'I hate this story. It sucks.' Flames gotta have a REASON. Then I'm fine.
--A/N-- I got this story idea awhile ago. I started writing this fic in July. I got kind of sick of it and stopped. Once school rolled around, I had too much work (AP European History, Chem Honors, Spanish III Adv, Trig/Precalc Honors, etc.) to finish it. Now that Thanksgiving's here, I've had time to finish and post my newest J/C. It's short, and I'd like to think it's sweet as well, but that's up to you. =) Enjoy.
--Like the French--
"Lieutenant Tuvok, what do you know about the Xabun culture?"
"Their traditions are much like those of the French in much of the 18th through 22nd centuries. Their greeting and farewell customs are especially rigid – they kiss on either cheek. It is considered a serious breach in etiquette to perform those incorrectly."
"I guess I'll just have to brush up on my French customs, then," Kathryn responded.
"Captain, may I suggest practicing before you meet them? You'll find all the information on this PADD. Also…might I suggest practicing with Lieutenant Paris? I have found him to be particularly adept in French culture."
She could have sworn she saw a gleam in Tuvok's unsmiling eyes. But, of course, that was blatantly impossible…since Vulcan eyes did not gleam. Ever. Still…
"Thank you, Tuvok. I'll take that into consideration. Dismissed."
The doors swooshed closed behind the stately Vulcan.
"Janeway to Paris. Lieutenant, I know you're off duty, but I have a favor to ask of you…"
---
"Okay, Captain, the polite Xabun custom is always to kiss left, then right. If you reverse the order, it usually signifies a sexual advance. Unless you are a close family member, in which case it is considered impolite not to kiss right, then left."
"So for me, it would be left, right," the Captain considered with a wrinkled brow.
"Right."
"That's what I said."
"No, no. I meant that's correct."
"Oh."
"Do you…want to practice? Or did you drag me all the way here to read the PADD to you?"
She glared at him. "That's enough, Lieutenant. Yes, I need a little bit of practice."
Tim started quizzing her, a broad grin evident on his face. "Okay. What's the proper form of greeting for an older, married gentleman?"
"Ah…Demasior?"
"Good job, Captain. How do you tell if a person is married or not?"
This one was easy. "Look for a dark green patch on the back of the right hand."
"Mhm. How do you curtsy to a diplomatic official?"
Kathryn demonstrated, with a fancy downward sweep of an imaginary dress.
"Right. Which utensils are used for a banquet?"
"The…maradaqua, the…leptem, and the…fornicula."
"Correct."
Two hours later, they were almost done.
"Now, demonstrate the proper greeting for a man of any status."
She leaned forward and pecked Tom on either cheek, left then right.
"Good! I think you're ready, Captain."
"Thank you, Lieutenant."
"Anytime."
"Dismissed."
Kathryn sank down on her rather drab Starfleet-regulation sofa, pressing her temples with one hand. Concentrating on this complex pattern of customs and keeping Tom in line had been too much for her to handle at one time.
"Janeway to Chakotay."
"Chakotay here."
"I would suggest practicing the Xabun customs before we go down to the planet. They're extremely complicated."
Chakotay's timbre had an amused tone. "I think I can manage on my own, Kathryn."
"Take a look at the PADD. I don't think you can."
Kathryn's first officer obediently complied, and she heard a curse on the other end. "Okay, you're right. I do need someone to help me practice. Kathryn, can you come over-"
"Not me. The customs for women are different than the ones for men. We'll just end up confusing ourselves."
"Okay…then who do you suggest?"
She pondered for a moment. "How about B'Elanna? She's not part of the welcoming party."
"Alright. I'll talk to her when she gets off duty. Thanks, Kathryn."
"Anytime."
---
"B'Ella? Who were you talking to?"
"Hm? Oh, that was Chakotay. He wants me to help him practice Xabun customs. He says that they're complicated."
"I know. They are. I helped the Captain practice earlier."
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah. There's apparently an obsolete greeting kiss, and it's considered really rude if you don't get it right."
"Mmm," B'Elanna was already absorbed in an Engineering problem, and she hadn't heard what Tom was saying.
An inspiration dawned on Tom. "Hey! B'Ella! I have an idea…"
---
"Okay, one more time, Chakotay. Show me the greeting kiss. Remember, right then left."
He promptly dropped two kisses on B'Elanna's cheeks. "How was that," he asked, grinning.
The half-Klingon glared at him. "I'm MARRIED, Chakotay."
"And you think I don't already know this? Just teasing. Okay, thank you, B'Elanna. I think I'll be fine now."
"Suit yourself. See you later."
"Yeah."
---
"Captain, ETA is four minutes, seven seconds. I suggest getting ready to meet the delegation aboard the ship."
"Yes, thank you, Lieutenant."
Her comm badge chose that moment to go off. "Chakotay to the Captain. I'm ready, where do you want to meet me?"
"Shuttlebay three, Commander."
"Yes, Captain."
"Janeway out."
As Kathryn strode off the bridge, the crew looked around and began to laugh.
"This oughta be good," exclaimed Tom, tapping his comm badge. "Paris to Torres."
"B'Elanna here."
"She just left. Are all the bets in?"
"You bet. There's over a thousand credits in here! Is the camera in place?"
"Of course. Thanks for covering for me, B'Ella. Paris out."
Tom turned around to face a grinning bridge crew. "This may well be our greatest idea yet, guys– "
There was a cough from the sole female on the bride, Ensign Delaney.
"…and girls. Sorry, Meg. You heard B'Elanna. If it goes well, one of us will be a very rich man – or woman," he interposed hastily, before Megan could cough again. "Winner has to buy the happy couple drinks. Real alcohol, none of this synthahol stuff. And lots of it. Get them completely drunk, in fact, so that we can get on to our next pool."
---
"We have a couple minutes until the Xabun delegation arrives. Can we practice the greeting once? Just to make sure I know it."
"Sure."
As she moved to her left, he moved to his right, and their lips met in an unexpected peck. Their eyes widened in surprise, and they both took a step back.
---
Tom had let out a war whoop and was now circling the bridge at a jog, claiming his victory. "I won! I won! I won!"
The rest of the crew looked disgusted at losing so many credits. And to Tom Paris, of all people.
---
"Chakotay, did you just proposition me?"
"No- what? Kathryn?"
She sighed, raking her fingers through her hair. "Kissing right, then left signifies a sexual advance. Didn't you cover this with B'Elanna?"
"Yes, but if I remember correctly, she told me the opposite."
"What? Why would she do that?"
The beginning of a nasty realization was forming in Kathryn's mind. "Computer, is there a visual tracking device in shuttlebay three?"
"Affirmative."
"Kathryn – what?"
She shushed him with a wave of her hand. "Computer, where is it?"
"In the upper corner of the room, next to the door."
She whirled around, to see the telltale red light blinking happily next to the doorframe.
"They've been spying on us?"
"It appears so, Chakotay."
"Does this have anything to do with that illicit betting pool we discovered last month?"
"Probably."
"Since we've got an audience, let's give them their money's worth, shall we?"
Any reply she might have made was drowned out by Chakotay's mouth descending on her own.
--Please r/r. Come on, it's not that hard. Just press the button down there, and fill out the form. I'll be eternally grateful…please? Thanks!--