"Harry…" Tom prompted, fighting the laugh that was rapidly rising in his chest as he elbowed his friend sharply in the ribs, "Hurry up and close your mouth before a holographic fly flies into it. Besides, knowing Seven, she bound to ask why you're staring at her so…open-mouthed." He chuckled to himself as Harry hastily pressed his lips together, flushing bright red in embarrassment as he glared at Tom defensively.

"She wouldn't just ask…" He started in an irritated tone before groaning as he watched Seven walk closer, her steps so lacking their normal brisk confidence that she was apparently totally oblivious to the stunning effect she was having on all the men, which was as effective as a wide-spread phaser blast. "Alright, she would probably ask but I've managed to deflect her questions before…" Tom's guffaws grew louder at that, drawing many curious glances to their conversation, and Harry decided to change tact. "Anyway, can you really blame me?"

"Not this time." Tom admitted honestly, though still smirking. "Looks like Chakotay certainly wouldn't."

"Chakotay?" Harry repeated blankly before giving his attention to his First Officer, who'd been talking to Tom just before he'd joined them and Seven had entered. Far from aping the open-mouthed awe he himself had shown at Seven's appearance, Chakotay, at first glance, looked more composed. He saw now though that that impression was deceiving, whereas most of the male crewmembers had lost interest by now, Chakotay's eyes were still unwaveringly locked on Seven, to the point of being distinctly blind and deaf to those around him. After all, he and Tom stood only a couple of paces from him and there had been no reaction whatsoever from him about their conversation. "What's up with him?"

Tom's eyebrows shot up at his friend's naivety, "Come on Harry, surely you can guess? You've been through it with her yourself after all haven't you?"

Harry's eyes shot disbelievingly from Tom to Chakotay and back again. "No, he can't be! He tried to suck her out an airlock, remember?"

"That was years ago and he just spent two days alone with her on a planet, do the math." Tom explained in exasperation, smiling as realisation dawned on Harry's face. "I wouldn't bring up the near miss with the airlock at the moment if I were you; Chakotay seems a little touchy right now."

"Yeah…" Harry agreed slowly, feeling ashamed of the curiosity which now kept his gaze firmly on Chakotay. To be fair to Tom's theory, he didn't think the older man had breathed since Seven had appeared, a simple elbow in the ribs wouldn't knock him out of it. "What should we do?"

Tom flashed him a mischievous grin, "The only thing we can do." He answered, stepping out from the crowd to hail Seven, "Hey Seven, over here!"

Seven restrained the relief that flooded her at the sound of Tom's cheery summons and the sight of his friendly smile among the sea of faces that were on the move constantly through the extent of the holodeck programme, not giving her a chance to gain badly needed bearings as to what was expected of her. "Good evening Lieutenant." She greeted him politely as she moved hastily towards him, freezing in place as she belatedly realised that Chakotay stood next to him with Harry Kim.

Seeing her tense up at the sight of Chakotay, an achievement considering how nervous this whole situation was obviously making the normally coolly indifferent former Borg, Tom kindly took her arm. "It's great to see you Seven, but drop the ranks tonight okay? It's Tom."

Seven nodded obligingly, "Of course, I presume that is a requirement of being "casual"?"

"It is." Tom agreed, smiling at her phrasing before looking her up and down, "Although I would say you look a lot more than casual tonight."

Seven's head dipped uncomfortably at his offhand compliment. "Perhaps I dressed a little too formally. It was difficult to decide, that is why I was delayed, I apologise."

"You look great Seven, don't worry!" Harry assured her eagerly, earning a shaky smile of gratitude from Seven.

"Oh yeah, you do. Don't you think so Chakotay?" Tom remarked, grinning to himself when his question forced Chakotay out of his stupor, looking dazed. "You were just starting to worry she wasn't going to come weren't you?"

Chakotay began to recover his wits, but not before shooting Tom a pointed and questioning look. "It wasn't like that exactly…" He began, his lungs suddenly fighting for air, "I just…"

"No, I'm sorry Commander." Seven cut him off, "I assured you of my presence here, it was very rude of me to be late…"

"It was only by a few minutes." Chakotay reminded her firmly, causing Tom no end of amusement since Chakotay had been left so agitated by her tardiness just moments before. "Anyway, it was worth it. You look…absolutely stunning, perfect."

Seven felt her cheeks tinge with pink as she heard true sincerity in his words and started to avert her gaze shyly, only to find her eyes sweeping over him appreciatively. He was dressed much more simply than her, just black trousers and a white shirt, but she found herself doubting how anyone could look better, the clothing just tight fitted enough to show off his muscular frame to its best advantage. The bright white of the shirt seemed to emphasise the healthy tan of his skin and the dark intensity of his eyes… She heard him take a deep breath and felt worry shoot through her that he'd caught her assessing him, a reply leaving her lips hurriedly before she could over think the wisdom of saying it. "You also look very handsome." Flushing as she realised the forwardness of the comment, she couldn't look at him, instead focusing intently on the details on her new shoes.

Chakotay's hand touched her shoulder reassuringly, and the heat of his skin seemed to pass through the sleeve of her dress until her head shot back up to meet his gaze. "It makes a change from red I guess." He commented light-heartedly, shrugging off the praise which actually made his heart race.

Seven nodded in agreement, gesturing awkwardly down at herself. "I do not normally embrace change, but this one has proven positive so far."

Chakotay's grin widened, "Definitely." He told her confidently.

Tom tapping him on the shoulder interrupted their conversation abruptly. Both had forgotten that Tom and Harry, let alone the rest of the crew, were present. "I'm getting requests to retell the Ledosian story…" Tom said, pointing to the group of laughing engineers bunched just behind them, "You two want to come and put in your side of the story?"

Feeling Seven back closer towards him in denial, Chakotay answered for both of them. "I think you'll do it enough justice for now Tom, we'll let you be the centre of attention for the moment." He said with a small wink at Seven, who didn't even think to stifle her giggle even as the sound made Tom's eyebrows arch questioningly.

"Now what's that supposed to mean?" he teased them, "Do you know me well enough to recognise a humble pilot when you see one?"

"I believe, for that to be the case, the definition of "humble" would need to be significantly altered." Seven replied, somehow managing to keep her voice completely deadpan even as Chakotay and Harry snickered beside her and her usually impassive blue eyed gaze sparkled with humour.

Tom dramatically threw a hand up to his chest as if she'd struck him, "I'm wounded Seven!" he laughed, "How can you say such a thing?"

She tilted her head at him, "Quite easily." She responded honestly.

Chakotay had to rein in his laughter to be able to talk at all. "Come on Tom, I'm sure you'll feel a lot less wounded once you're regaling the rest of crew with your story."

"Probably." Tom admitted as he turned to head towards his awaiting listeners, "But that doesn't mean the two of you will get out of telling us all about your experience of being stranded, in detail."

Seven cringed at the thought, glad that Tom was no longer watching. Dramatising her time with the Ventu for the benefit of the crew's entertainment was the last thing she wanted. The experience had been profoundly affecting and private and she couldn't share that with them. "Don't worry Seven." Chakotay's soft voice gently interrupted her thoughts, as if he'd been reading her mind. "You never need to talk about it if you don't want to, the crew wouldn't force it." He looked into her face reassuringly before cracking a small smile, "Tom was just teasing, and no doubt his stories will last the whole night anyway."

Seven nodded heavily, overwhelmed for an instant by the soothing effect his kind insight had on her, before she murmured gratefully, "Thank you Comm…Chakotay."

His smile was tinged with relief as she remembered to use his name; his rank had begun to grate on him when it came from her lips. "Hey…" He looked around the room, searching for a topic of conversation which wasn't coming to him naturally, "Do you want a drink or something?"

"That would be acceptable." Seven answered quickly, glad that he was taking the lead and scanning the confusing programme for a replicator.

Chakotay watched her keen gaze and guessed what she was looking for. "There are no replicators here; Sandrine's is supposed to be an early 20th Century establishment. We'll have to go to the bar." Seeing that she was still a bit disorientated, he gingerly took her by the wrist and guided her towards the bar against the far wall. "You haven't visited this programme before?" he asked in surprise. All kinds of events had been thrown at Sandrine's over the years; it was practically an extension of the Mess Hall when activated, so it disturbed him to think that Seven had never been invited before.

"Occasionally." She answered after a moment of thought, "But I've never stayed long, I didn't see the purpose of it."

Chakotay was glad that she spoke in the past tense, even appearing a little apologetic as she looked at him, and he relaxed a bit. He tried again to recall if he'd ever seen her here, but to be honest her present image, in that blue dress that was amazingly just as heart-stopping as the red one he still had engrained in his mind's eye, was the only thing he could think of clearly right now. "I hope this party is giving you a better impression, you've certainly made my night tonight…" He halted when he realised how that sounded and hastily added, "…with all those funny comebacks you gave Tom."

Seven gave him a small smile in reply, studying the scene around her cautiously. As they walked up to the bar together however, a small group of young men, all minor officers in security, began to whistle loudly. Seven turned to Chakotay with a perplexed frown as he noticeably stiffened, "Why are they making that sound?"

"No reason." He answered tersely, "They're just drunk and stupid." He moved as discreetly as he could to Seven's other side, trying to block the men's view of her as his blood began to boil. Weren't these guys mature enough to have grown out of wolf whistling? He wasn't so discreet with the warning glare he sent them, intense enough to penetrate even their cloud of intoxication.

Seven knew something had irritated Chakotay, but decided to let her questions go as the whistling abruptly ceased, making the issue irrelevant. The Doctor however, obviously wasn't ready to let it go as he popped up from behind the bar, dressed in full bartending gear, including a beret. "Stop that lewd whistling right now or I'll be ordering you to report to Sickbay for alcohol extraction, understood?" he declared irately.

"Yes sir." All the men mumbled, suitably chastised and all giving Chakotay wary glances before shuffling off unsteadily.

The Doctor sighed heavily, "The work of a bartender is never done…" He mused.

Chakotay propped his elbows on the bar as he eyed the Doctor questioningly, "Why exactly are you playing bartender again Doctor? I thought that was a one off for Kes' birthday years ago."

The Doctor grimaced, "Tom challenged me that if I could hold out for the whole night he'd do an extra week of shifts in Sickbay."

"And if you don't manage to "hold out"?" Seven asked.

"Then he gets a week off of course." The Doctor said with a sigh, "He's always looking for ways to shirk his duties in Sickbay; I would've thought anyone jumped at the chance to work with a medical expert such as myself…"

"He would not be able to shirk any duties or have to work extra if you ceased making these bets." Seven reminded him pointedly.

The Doctor had the grace to blush in shame, guiltily remembering when Seven had suffered because of a particular bet. "You're right." He admitted quietly before his attention to her current situation, his eyes flicking frantically from her to Chakotay and back again. "I see you've made use of the implant friendly fabric I designed to replicate some new clothes?" he commented knowingly, twitching an eyebrow at her out of Chakotay's line of sight.

"Yes." Seven confirmed tightly, shifting uncomfortably under his scrutiny, "I did not believe my biosuits would have been appropriate for this setting."

"No, they wouldn't be really." The Doctor agreed, "But I would've perhaps chosen…"

"Doctor…" Chakotay intervened firmly as he saw Seven flinch, "Aren't you going to say that the dress is beautiful on her?"

The Doctor bristled a bit at the reprimand but knew it was deserved as he looked at Seven. "Commander Chakotay is right of course." He said quickly, smiling at her sincerely, "I don't think I've seen you look better Seven."

"Thank you Doctor." Seven replied with graciousness that Chakotay admired, considering how the Doctor had initially spoken to her.

"Bartender!" A heavily accented voice called out and the Doctor spun around with an expression of dread to meet a hologram that was as much the boss of this establishment as he was in Sickbay. "I have ten customers waiting in line and you are here talking!"

"I was going to serve them…" The Doctor began defensively, only to be shushed by her plump hand pressing his lips shut. "Alright…I'll go." He acquiesced, his voice still muffled by her hand as he caught Tom pausing in his elaborate storytelling to watch the interaction.

Chakotay chuckled in amusement as the Doctor slouched off before turning back to Seven. "Seven, have you met Sandrine?"

"We have not been introduced." Seven said quietly, eyeing the fiery hologram, petite and buxom, cautiously. "You are the proprietor?" she asked Sandrine bluntly, not used to talking to holograms other than the Doctor in a scenario that was not a prescribed social lesson.

"Oui mademoiselle." Sandrine answered sweetly, "What would you like to drink tonight?"

Seven glanced at Chakotay uncertainly, who took that as a cue to suggest something. "I'll have a fresh orange…" Seven nodded and he corrected himself, "Two fresh orange juices please."

"Of course." Sandrine agreed, rolling her "r" excessively as she batted her eyelashes at Chakotay, "Whatever you desire."

Chakotay saw Seven watching this exchange intently and tried his best not to smirk. "Thanks Sandrine…" He told her politely before being interrupted by Chell's tap on his shoulder. "What can I do for you Chell?" he queried, suppressing the exasperated edge to his voice. Chell was well-known to be the ship's motor mouth and as much as he liked the friendly Bolian, he didn't want to spend the whole night talking to him.

"We're going to extend the programme to include a dance floor, would you mind coming to help coordinate?" Chell asked in a chirpy tone, "I'm afraid there's going to be arguments over which music to put on and…"

Chakotay flung his hands up to stop the, obviously long-winded, explanation. "Okay, I'll come over for a couple of minutes and organise things if you really need me too…"

"We need you to!" Chell declared desperately.

"Right, okay." Chakotay agreed, only sighing and letting himself roll his eyes a little at Seven as Chell turned away. "Seems I can't escape the First Officer's negotiator and counsellor role even when ranks aren't allowed."

"The crew respect your judgement." Seven assured him softly.

He smiled at the genuine comment. "Thanks." He murmured before his gaze became anxious, "You'll wait here?"

She shot him a wry look. "Where else am I going to go? I am unfamiliar with the protocols of such an event."

"You're doing fine." He told her firmly, "I'll be back in a couple of minutes, okay?"

Seven nodded and reached back for one of the barstools, awkwardly trying to perch on it before promptly starting to slip off, only prevented from falling to the floor by Chakotay's strong arms taking her by the waist and placing her securely on the stool. Heat flooded her and she found herself stuttering slightly, "Thank you…these chairs seem to be of an inefficient design…"

Chakotay was leaning over her to such and extent that she could see his Adam's apple moving up and down rapidly before replying, "its okay, a lot of people have trouble with them…" He stepped back, but it was as if his hands had a delayed reaction to his brain's order, lingering on her for an extra second or so before hurriedly letting go. "I'll see you soon, after I've dealt with whatever's going on…" He muttered distractedly, his voice an octave lower than normal, distinctly huskier.

"Yes." Seven murmured, watching his retreating back as he turned away from her and moved quickly into the crowd. Her mouth felt so dry that when Sandrine brought her the glass of fresh orange she gulped at it thirstily before even saying thanks.

Sandrine smiled knowingly as she followed her guest's gaze. "Monsieur Chakotay is certainly enchanted with you isn't he?"

Seven stiffened, spinning around on the barstool to stare at her holographic host. "Impossible." She retorted starkly, her voice wavering as confusion filled Sandrine's face. "You are incorrect; he would never see me in the way you are implying."

Sandrine sighed slightly at the young woman's clipped, hopeless tone and patted her hand kindly as she met her gaze. "I think it's you who needs to see him more clearly, ma belle cherie."

A/n: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! :D Don't worry, the party isn't over yet! :)