Mishka had given her seven beautiful pink roses, and then he softly requested, "I'd like to introduce you to another fine Russian tradition, if I may?"
Janet nodded and he leaned down to her. Yes, she was wearing shoes that increased her height, but there was still a height difference. He kissed her and her world stopped. Mishka focused completely on her; she felt his body slowly melt towards hers, which Janet took as a very positive sign. She also had some very delightful tingles developing.
"Sorry I'm late, is Cassie ready to go? JANET?" and then a sharp inhalation of breathe which completely destroyed the mood as someone entered the living room.
Chekov broke off their kiss, protectively stood between Janet and the unexpected arrival so Janet was blocked from sight. He then roared, "Major Carter! She is rather busy at the moment."
Chekov continued to shield Janet from view, even while he glared at a shell shocked Samantha Carter.
"Going now!" Samantha Carter finally managed to yelp.
His glare continued radiating death rays until Samantha Carter and Cassie had fled the scene of the crime. He ignored Janet Fraiser who was energetically poking him in his ribs. His ribs that were still sore from the airbag inflating, he might add.
"You are horrible," Janet informed him. Her denunciation failed to score on him as she was struggling not to laugh.
"I think I frightened her," he proudly stated. He happily preened, as he was Male, Russian and Full of Testosterone.
"You think? Was it the pee dribbling down her leg that gave you that idea?" Janet retorted.
"I'm surprised that I did, because she blew up a sun. I think that's far more fear-provoking than me."
He gave her THAT smile that was reserved for the moments when he thought he was exceedingly funny and she couldn't help herself. She laughed which caused Mishka to laugh. God, when he laughed, he had dimples! Cute, adorable dimples that made her Russian Bear look more like a teddy bear.
"You blocked my view!" Janet protested. Her ire just made Mishka laugh even harder.
"She looked terrified," he assured her. "I shall savor that sight for as long as I live. However, she did interrupt us, so again, I would like to introduce you to a fine Russian custom?"
This time they were not interrupted until Janet needed to breathe.
"Much better," he whispered. "Much, much better. Now, you ready for tonight?"
Janet nodded.
"As much as it stings my pride, you'll need to drive," he admitted with a dry quip.
Their date started off promising (as well, Movie theater! Hello! Darkness! Cuddling!) then soon after Miskha paid for their admittance and bought her Red Twizzlers, it went directly to hell. Do not pass go. Do not collect 200 American Dollars. No cuddling foreseen for Janet.
At the movie theater when they had just taken their seats, Chekov tapped her on her knee and pointed to an all too familiar, closely shorn scalp who was sitting approximately a dozen or so rows closer to the screen than they were.
It was GENERAL GEORGE S. HAMMOND.
HAMMOND who apparently shared the same interests in black and white comedies as Mishka. HAMMOND who was sitting with a very strikingly attractive female. HAMMOND who she had assured that she had no interest in Colonel Chekov.
Janet leaned forward and stared. Oh, sorry, surveyed the scene for needed Intel.
"She's Hammond's new girlfriend?" Janet blurted.
It was one of those all too rare moments in life, where everyone was perfectly quiet and still, so Janet's voice carried in the theater. Upon hearing his name utilized, Hammond's head swiveled in their direction, Chekov tried to crawl under his seat to mount a strategic retreat before he quickly realized that due to his recent maiming he could not. Therefore, being a child born from Siege of Leningrad Survivors, he decided to face Trouble head on. He stood up, walked over to Hammond and greeted him and the new girlfriend. The two men talked for a bit and then turned to face her. To Janet's horror, Hammond pointed and motioned for her to come on down.
And yes, an expressionless Chekov crooked his finger also.
Damn it, there would be no cuddling in the dark now, would there?
Pleasantries were exchanged, and then Maggie, the General's new girlfriend insisted that the four of them sit together. Hammond and Chekov wordlessly exchanged meaningful glances over their much shorter girlfriends' heads.
I'll never speak of this if you do the same.
Their silent accord affirmed, the two men struggled to hide their disappointment that their plans had gone southward.
"I've heard so much about you," Maggie bubbled. "George says you are a medical miracle maker, Dr. Fraiser."
"Please, I insist that you call me Janet," Janet said.
"And Colonel…." Maggie continued.
"Misha, please call me, Misha." Chekov jovially assured her.
Janet felt the urge to kick Mishka's instep as he was being very charming.
"George told me how you rescued all those people on I25 a few weeks ago," Maggie continued. "He was so concerned when they called him at three AM to tell him you were missing, Misha."
Janet couldn't help but arch an eyebrow as General Hammond as she wondered how… intimately … Maggie knew about that particular phone call. At three AM. Hammond responded by turning an interesting shade of fuchsia that started at the back of his neck, and slowly rose, layer by layer to the top of his head.
"I had help," Chekov demurred.
"You're being far too modest, George said that you were responsible for saving people's lives," protested Maggie, which caused Mishka to blush. "So which one of you is the Charlie Chaplin fan?"
"I am. It helps me understand O'Neill," offered a deadpan Chekov.
Hammond roared.
The four of them continued to converse, some quite energetically (the females), others less so (Hammond and Chekov). Janet found Maggie to be a great deal of fun, so she decided that she heartily approved of the match.
Until the lights dimmed and the movies started, when Janet realized anew the issues facing her.
Mishka was sitting on her left, which meant his closest arm was immobile and casted.
Well, with Hammond sitting two seats down, she hadn't anticipated Mishka putting his arm around her, but it really curtailed her attempt for clandestine affection. (Quick mental questions, did Russian men do hand holding? Did Russian Colonels who were grieving their late wife do hand holding?)
Well, he had made those snarky comments about bold and audacious American Woman.
She moved her left hand and deliberately put it on his right knee. His response was to continue staring intently at the screen. His complete non-reaction was not the response for which she had been hoping. Instead, with a sick feeling in her stomach, she remembered what happened the night she had first kissed him. Janet had been too bold, too fast for him, and she realized anew that perhaps his snarky comments about bold, audacious women had been his roundabout way of hinting at the significant cultural differences they had to cross.
She closed her eyes, bowed her head and decided to move her hand back. However, Chekov grasped it with his good hand and squeezed it. He brought her hand closer to him and he continued to hold it for a bit. Then with a gentleness that shouldn't have surprised her but still did, he began to deliberately stroke her hand.
Janet turned towards him and saw that he was intently watching her. He leaned towards her and quietly whispered, "You Americas, so bold, so rash. You run in where angels fear to tread. I am not like that, Zhannochka. However, I will struggle to be so… for you."