"Have fun." (P/T, C/7, C&T, P&7)

Author's Note: This story takes place after "Endgame".

/

"So … you and Seven, huh? How the hell did that happen?"

There was no condemnation in B'Elanna's tone, only curiosity, with a bit of teasing thrown in, as for a friend who has just made a bizarre, but not necessarily wrong choice. Chakotay smiled back at her with gratitude. "It's a long story."

"Go ahead. Knowing those two, they'll be at it 'til closing time."

They were sitting in a corner booth of the original Sandrine's in Marseilles, watching Tom and Seven play pool. The two blonds had a fierce competitive streak in common, and while Seven might say the game was simple geometry, Tom's intuition and experience made him more than equal to her mathematical skills.

B'Elanna checked her chrono. She'd promised the Doctor, who was babysitting Miral, that she and Tom would be home in San Francisco by 2100 hours, but they had plenty of time left. She missed Chakotay and his long stories, however she might tease him about them. Living on the same planet was not quite the same as living on the same ship.

"Well … " Chakotay leaned back into the creaking leather upholstery and took a sip of cider. "It was a slow development, as you can imagine. You remember how it was when she first came on board."

"You mean when she tried to assimilate us and you tried to blow her out an airlock?" B'Elanna deadpanned.

Chakotay winced. "I didn't have the benefit of hindsight, obviously."

"So what changed?"

He considered the question in his quiet way, swirling his glass, watching Seven from across the room as she positioned her pool cue. With one tiny, barely noticeable push, the ex-Borg sent several balls rolling across the green baize table. Tom let out a yelp of shocked disbelief. Seven withdrew her cue with subtle, but unmistakable pride.

"She changed," said Chakotay, "We both did, I suppose. I remember, that first year, I didn't trust her as far as I could throw her. All I could see was the Borg … "

"You sure didn't let it show, though." B'Elanna remembered more than one disagreement in Engineering where the First Officer had had to play referee. "You were annoyingly fair when she and I used to argue. It was a pain in the ass."

"Thank you." Chakotay's dimple showed itself in a wry smile. "Anyway, I was wrong, and she proved it, over and over again. She had so many chances to throw Voyager to the Collective, and every time, she helped us instead. I'd have had to be a blind idiot not to learn to trust her."

"Hmm. Fair enough."

B'Elanna knew how it felt to form a snap judgment about someone and be proven wrong over time. She smiled as she watched Tom make his next move. It was his turn to win, and he beamed and flourished his pool cue in triumph. She was too far away to see his face clearly, but she knew that look of boyish delight, and it warmed her heart even from across the room. To think, the first time she'd seen him playing pool in a holographic copy of this bar, she'd dismissed him as a womanizing pig.

"I guess it's easier to see how attractive someone is when you stop watching for a stab in the back … or the side of the neck."

"Not funny, Torres. Your husband's sense of humor is rubbing off on you." But Chakotay's face twitched with reluctant amusement all the same. "But yes, that's true."

"So which of you made first contact, then?"

"I did," he said with quiet triumph. "I asked her to go hiking with me on the holodeck."

"When?""

"Shortly after Ledos … you know, when Seven and I got stranded near the Ventu settlement?" B'Elanna nodded. "That was when I really started to believe that it could work between us. Before that, I thought we were just too different, that she'd never be content without technology. But when we were down there, she … Well, for lack of a better word, she adapted. She saw the beauty in a sunset and a hand-woven blanket. She saw the Ventu the same way I saw them, as people we could learn from, who deserve our respect. I've known people so hell-bent on their destination that they hardly notice the good things along the way, but not Seven."

Chakotay watched his new partner with a warm smile, one B'Elanna hadn't seen him wear in a long time.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised, after all," she mused. "She's just your type."

"I have a type?"

"Sure. You like women strong enough that you can respect them, but with enough issues of their own that you get to protect them too."

Seska, Riley and - according to a handwritten manuscript that a bewildered Chakotay had found in his quarters once - Kellin had all been like that, and so was Admiral Janeway. He nodded ruefully. "That does sound like me … although I'll have you know, Seven definitely does her share of protecting."

"I'm sure she does."

The pool match was over now, with Seven the winner, though by a very close margin. Tom shrugged off his disappointment, clapped her on the back, and held up his hand for what B'Elanna recognized from all his 20th-century movies as a high five. Seven stared at her erstwhile opponent with a raised metal eyebrow as if she'd never seen anything so absurd, but slapped his palm anyway. Tom grimaced and shook out his wrist. Chakotay chuckled.

B'Elanna had one more question left. Perhaps it was the mention of someone hell-bent on a destination that reminded her.

"You know … rumor has it you have feelings for the Captain. Admiral now, I should say. Is that true?"

Chakotay didn't deny it, but neither did he show any sign of heartache or regret. He was not a demonstrative person, but B'Elanna knew his tells and would have seen through him if he had.

"It's not possible to keep up a one-sided attraction for seven years. Thank the Spirits, our hearts are more resilient than that."

"One-sided? So the Admiral never … ?"

"No."

"Good," B'Elanna said firmly. He looked taken aback, so she added: "Because I love you like a brother, Chakotay, but if I found out you were messing around with those two, I'd have to mess up your face. Just on principle."

"If I were ever that foolish, I'd deserve no less." He raised his glass to her in a toast before finishing the last of his cider.

B'Elanna would have liked to tease and/or congratulate her old friend some more, but Tom and Seven were heading back toward their booth. Tom held out his arms with a dramatic pout.

"Did you see that, Bee? I've just had my ego crushed. Come and kiss it better, won't you?"

"I'm sure you deserved it," B'Elanna retorted, but she stood up and kissed him anyway. Over his shoulder, she could see Chakotay and Seven leaning in close, murmuring something too low for anyone else to hear.

"Let's go home, huh?" said Tom, taking hold of her arm to draw it through his. "Before the Doc ruins Miral's musical taste forever by playing her opera."

"Instead of rock'n'roll, you mean? … Yeah, let's go home." Some part of B'Elanna still couldn't believe she actually had one. The thought of their beautiful baby curled up in her crib was enough to make her wish the transporter station were closer.

Chakotay and Seven didn't live together (yet), but they must have come to a similar conclusion, because after Chakotay discreetly swiped his credit chip to pay for their drinks, all four former shipmates put on their coats and headed out the door.

"Night, guys!" Tom waved cheerfully at the intersection as they parted ways.

"Have fun," B'Elanna added mischievously. "Don't do anything we wouldn't do!"

Seven's look of incomprehension only lasted for about a second. Then, to B'Elanna's amusement, the ex-Borg glanced over at Chakotay and actually blushed. It was harder to tell with Chakotay's tan, but from the way he smiled and ducked his head, B'Elanna would have bet he was blushing too.

"That must be a short list, Lieutenant," Seven said. "It should be simple to follow."

"Dismissed, you two," their former First Officer grumbled, or tried to; he sounded too genuinely happy to make it work. "See you next time."

"You owe me a rematch, Seven!" Tom shook his fist at her in a mock threat..

"If you enjoy losing so much, I will comply," Seven shot back without batting an eye.

Chakotay laced her Borg-enhanced fingers with his and steered her gently away. His gray Starfleet-issue coat and her indigo parka blended together into the starry night.