They sat down across from each other and Kathryn critically eyed the mass of glass noodles, morels and soybean sprouts interspersed with unfamiliar purple leaves and alien vegetables in three different colors. "It looks like someone was trying to cook Chinese but didn't have all of the right ingredients."
"Almost right." Chakotay took up his fork but watched Kathryn take a first tentative bite before starting to eat as well. "The Academy cafeteria has a new cook, and instead of serving traditional foods like Terran, Vulcan, Andorian and others, he's trying to blend different tastes to create 'a new galactic culinary experience'. Like everyone else, I was skeptical at first, but he's having a lot of success with his approach. In fact, his sister opened a restaurant in town last month where she serves all of his creations, and it's quickly become the place to be."
"This is wonderful," Kathryn agreed, breaking off a piece of bread and swirling it around the edge of the bowl. "So what is it?"
"The basis is indeed Terran Chinese, but mixed with a Trill dish I can't pronounce and some Deltan spices. It's one of three recipes they distribute freely as replicator codes to get people interested. The rest are carefully guarded secrets."
"I can see why. Is all of their food replicated or do they also use fresh produce?"
"I believe they do both, at least for trying out new combinations. To be honest though, I've never asked."
Reaching for another piece of bread, Kathryn eyed him pensively. "I wouldn't have thought."
"What?"
"Please don't get me wrong, this is probably just a cliché, but..." She paused, trying to find the right words. "You once told me that your family was very traditional, preserving the ways of the tribe and honoring the connection to the land." This time, she waited for his confirming nod before continuing. "Somehow I assumed – and also because you said there wasn't much technology in your village – that you would have a rather critical view of replicated food and would prefer the real thing whenever possible."
Chakotay was smiling, charmed by Kathryn's hesitant speech and obvious worry that she might say something to offend him. "Many people think that," he confirmed, taking a sip of his wine, "and indeed my father has always frowned upon this 'unnatural way of conjuring meals from thin air'." He chuckled, but turned serious a moment later. "It was just one of many things that we didn't see eye to eye on. In my opinion, food replicators are one of technology's great gifts to mankind. Without them, there'd still be so many places where people would be starving, even on Earth. And science has proven time and again that replicated food is just as nutritious as 'natural' food. In some cases it's even healthier, because it can be enhanced with just the right kinds of vitamins and trace elements, and it will never be polluted with any environmental toxins that are common on industry-heavy worlds."
Kathryn had stopped eating and frowned thoughtfully. "I've never looked at it that way. I grew up on a mixture of real and replicated food, and the decision for one or the other was usually a matter of convenience. My mother liked to cook when she had the time, but she didn't fret about it when she didn't. Me, I'm helpless in the kitchen. I'd probably manage to burn water if left to my own devices."
"Yet another point in favor of modern technology," Chakotay dead-panned. "Or have you ever heard of a replicator burning a meal?" They laughed together at this ridiculous notion. "Did your mother's cooking taste differently to you?" he asked once they'd calmed down.
"Compared to replicator fare? No. I know some people say they can tell the difference, but I never could."
"I can," he winked. "Replicators will always yield the same result – same texture, same taste – unless you specify some changes. With a flesh and blood cook, you never know what you'll get."
"Some would say that's the magic behind home cooking," Kathryn pointed out, smiling as she dug back into her food.
The main course was gone soon, and Chakotay insisted she stay in the living room while he cleared their plates away. As he was rummaging around his kitchen, he was struck by how this was actually the first time, apart from a quickly-abandoned picnic on Kelvaris, that they were completely alone for a meal. No other officers, no waiters, no one watching them at all – the thought sent a wave of heat to different parts of his body.
He wanted her all the time, and having her all to himself now he wasn't sure if he'd be able to keep his hands off of her long enough to properly finish their dinner. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he returned from the kitchen carrying two small glass bowls containing a colorful fruit salad.
Kathryn had left the table and was examining an assortment of bottles in a small cabinet, lifting them out one by one to read their labels. "That's quite a collection," she commented while replacing a corkscrew-shaped flacon of Ferengi Stardust on its shelf.
"Most of them were gifts," Chakotay shrugged as he set the bowls on the table and retook his seat. "As the new guy on the block, I invited some of the other instructors for a drink at the staff lounge one night during my first week here. I didn't expect them to bring anything, but most turned up carrying a bottle of some sort. I figured it would be rude to refuse them."
"You're right about that." Kathryn picked up a bright red bottle with an acid-green label. "I'll let you in on a secret. Most of these bottles probably passed through several hands already before coming to you. My father used to call it 'the alien alcohol carousel'. He had about five times as many as these, in all colors of the rainbow. It doesn't matter what's inside, as long as the bottle looks sufficiently exotic. And the next chance you get, you just hand one on to the next new guy behind you. No one minds, as long as they don't get back the one they gave you."
Chakotay chuckled. "I assumed as much. I've only opened one, but it smelled like liquid wax and petroleum, so I recycled it."
"That was probably wise." She closed the cabinet.
Chakotay leaned back, a speculative gleam in his eye. "You never did tell me whether your father really acquired one of those famous bottles of Romulan Ale Admiral Zapheri was talking about on Kelvaris."
"Oh, that." Kathryn laughed out loud. "Of course he did! And he drank it, too. Even let me taste a sip."
"Did you like it?"
She shrugged. "I was only seventeen at the time, so no. But even later, I never really developed a taste for it. And considering how much hassle it is to get your hands on the stuff..." Another shrug. "I prefer wine. And coffee. A day without coffee is not a good day."
"I'll be sure to remember that."
The conversation and physical distance had helped him get himself back under control, but now Kathryn was turning back to the table, curiously regarding the assortment of multicolored, cube-shaped fruit he'd brought out for dessert. "Another intergalactic experiment?"
"Yes, but this one is entirely of my own making," Chakotay smiled. "I was passing through Risa earlier this year, and several of the fruit they have there are so unlike anything I'd tried before that I spent a small fortune for their replicator codes."
"Just passing through, huh?" she smirked as she leaned her hip against his side of the table, her bare leg almost touching his. The bow at her side was now in easy reach of his hands, and his fingers were itching to discover what lay hidden beneath the green fabric. Seemingly unaware of his straying thoughts, Kathryn picked up a medium-sized blue cube and bit into it. Unexpectedly, juice squirted from the alien fruit and dribbled over her chin and hand. For a moment, she stood in stunned surprise, but then she chuckled and leaned across the table to pick up her napkin. Chakotay watched, entranced, as she licked the droplets from her fingers before wiping her hands.
When she looked up and caught him staring, her smile deepened. "What?"
"You. You've got something... there." He reached up and swiped two fingers along her chin, catching a few stray blue drops. Before he could decide what to do next, Kathryn grasped his hand and, with a coy bat of her eyelashes, licked the juice from his fingertips.
The next thing he knew, she was sitting in his lap, straddling him and offering him one of the smaller red cubes. He closed his lips around the fruit slowly and deliberately, his tongue sliding along her fingers as he watched her eyes close. Letting go of her fingertips, he leaned in and kissed her. The red cube burst in his mouth, dissolving and releasing a tart rush of juice reminiscent of lemon and cranberry. Kathryn's tongue eagerly swept his mouth in pursuit of any last drops or fibers of the alien treat, and when it was gone, she broke free and twisted in place to reach for another.
Their kiss resumed, with their savoring dessert blending seamlessly into tasting and rediscovering each other. When Kathryn broke free again, they were both panting, eyes glazed with desire. She rocked against him and he gripped her hips, burying his face in her shoulder to stifle a moan.
His hands slightly unsteady, Chakotay finally undid the bow at her side and let the dress fall open. He had just enough time to admire the perfect curves and trace the edge of her lime green bra with his fingertips before Kathryn's mouth again came down hard on his and he was swept away by a rising tide of passion.
When he finally fell asleep much later, with Kathryn cradled securely in his arms, Chakotay's last conscious thought was that if the first night of their reunion was anything to judge by, the next couple of days would certainly be interesting.
-==/\==-