New arrivals seen to, certain minor problems dealt with, and K’Teira found herself with the time to be able to wander back to Paris for the reception. However, she had barely entered the lounge when a scintillating purr broke out from behind the bar. The source of this was, of course, the furry form of Chianeé, who, upon seeing the Counsellor’s entrance, had thrust the beverage she’d been making into the hands of a nearby waiter and now bore down upon the Klingon at a rate of what seemed like mach nine, if not warp one!
"K’Teirrra!" she crooned in delight, all four hands immediately engaged in touching Klingon cheeks, hair, ridges, nose, shoulders - all of which K’Teira patiently endured.
"Chianeé! It’s not as though you didn’t see me earlier!" she lightly chided, teasing the cat-like female’s over-enthusiasm not unkindly. "But you’ve done wonders with the place since then!"
"Do you rrreally think so?" Uncertainty marred her warm sensuality and even her movements as she shifted both arms to massage at K’Teira’s shoulders were tentative. In the tiny amount of the predominantly gestural Prarrian language K’Teira had learned during her long friendship with Chianeé, she knew the change meant a deep lack of confidence. Or, to be more precise, a deep need for reassurance.
"Chianeé, you know me. Do I comment lightly?" she inquired shortly
"Not in all the time I’ve known you." Chianeé grudgingly admitted.
K’Teira then smiled with an openness no first time acquaintance would ever see.
"The lounge is perfect now - just enough Terran for Starfleet and enough everything else for anyone else. But for some reason that escapes me right now…" The taunting tone and imitation vagueness plainly shouted that it didn’t, "…this place reminds me of The Thorn down on Earth."
"It should." the hostess beamed, fangs showing through her lipless mouth. "I had all my usual things shuttled up and decided I should use them. Your Commanderrrr Elek is quite accommodating, isn’t she?"
"She’s not my Commander Elek; while you’re on board she’s ours." K’Teira explained, rolling her eyes and knocking away four seeking sets of fingers.
"No - she’s your Commanderrr, but to me, she’s just Elek." Infuriatingly - well, to anyone else - Chianeé guided her friend over towards the bar, gently pressing eight fingers into the flesh along K’Teira’s spine to steer her through the groups of officers that were already gathering for the party. "I’m a civilian."
"Well, you’re not in Starfleet, but you’re hardly civil!" K’Teira laughed nastily in an undertone. "Why refer to her as ‘Commander’ at all if you’re going to say that?"
"Why, it was the capacity in which I consulted herrr." Chianeé explained, maddeningly matter-of-fact as she sashayed around to the other side of the bar. "If she’d been in herrre eating plomeek soup or rrrigatta’saal and she’d done something worrrth mentioning to you, I’d have rreferrred to her as ‘Elek’; but she didn’t so I won’t."
K’Teira laughed once, on a deep note.
"I should get the cat-nip out on you, I really should!" she warned jokingly, waving a finger at her.
"And rrruin your rrreputation as a killing machine? I think not!" the Prarrian scoffed "What’ll you have?"
Considering, K’Teira turned as she half sat on the stool before the bar, eyeing both decor and early arrivals. The ambient wood toning and various artworks set the scene nicely, though she noticed that Daniels had already set a glass in two out-reaching hands of a Prarrian abstract sculpture, Rell resignedly shaking his head behind. At least Daniels brought him like I asked. she consoled herself. I wonder if Rell has dissuaded him from leaving early yet?
Newly arrived Chiharu Takahashi seemed to be hitting it off with the similarly sized Lisa Willbanks, though the latter seemed to be nervously waiting for the ceiling to fall in on her. Brynna wynDavies was looking out of a viewport with Be’rallt’hemin, obviously toasting the beginning of a new mission. Overall, quite a cheering sight.
"Make it a siktiforn juice," she said over her shoulder, her keen eyes scanning the room. "And good luck arguing your case to Elek about THAT one! Your logic leaves a lot to be desired, Cat!"
Chianeé purred sensuously across the counter, where she was pouring the ordered drink. When she’d finished, she put it before the Klingon and leaned forward to see just what K’Teira was looking at.
"Worrrked them all out yet?" she asked softly, just loud enough for only K’Teira to hear.
"So far they all look as though they’re having quite a good time, save the Doctor; probably Lieutenant Quellon again." A snort, then she turned and fully faced her furry friend. "Anything to report?"
"Only one. Ensign Joenn was in herrre just afterr we opened - afterr shift changeoverrr. She didn’t seem verrry happy." Her whole demeanor showed her compassion. "I was busy getting this place rready, and she didn’t stay verrry long, but she sat by herself in a corrnerr and harrrdly touched herrr drrink. She just stared out the window forr a little while and then left. I think she’s homesick."
K’Teira nodded slowly.
"That would follow." she replied as softly as the hostess. "But I have a few ideas as to what to do. Thanks for letting me know."
"It’s a pleasurrre; I’m a sticky-beak at hearrrt, and if that can help, then I’ll do it!"
"Hmmph." K’Teira knew her friend better than that - Chianeé cared about others to the point of losing herself. That was what made her such a valuable ally in the Counsellor’s work. However, she also knew better than to either indulge or refute Chianeé’s words, for when she was in the mood to down-play her own expansive assets, nothing anyone could say would convince her otherwise. Thankfully Chianeé was only like this when she was in unfamiliar territory…
"Anyway," Getting up from her seat, K’Teira took a swig of her juice and made as if to leave. "I’d better get on and start my rounds of the room, and you’d best serve out those drinks. We’ll speak again, and please try to believe the bar looks good. I especially like the podium set-up before the windows."
"Thanks for the encouragement." Again the need for reassurance showed itself. "I’ve never done Starfleet before, you know."
"I know. But there’s no need to be; you’ve done your usual fantastic job."
Running a hand down Chianeé’s arm to lightly touch the prayer folded double hands, K’Teira changed mental gears and left her to take on her next task.
"Did you visit the arboretum?"
The voice floated disembodied out of the bathroom as Ian sat on the bed impatiently reading from a PADD. He didn’t even bother to look up from the journal article as he shouted back,
"No. I didn’t have time. I spent all afternoon in the science annex and couldn’t get there."
"It’s really impressive - you should make the time. She’s got it all sectioned out and it’ll really be beautiful in a few weeks. We could go for a walk through there one night after the kids are in bed."
"Hmmm…" …The theory involved is quite complex…
"I suppose you didn’t get to the holodecks either?"
"Hmmm…" …given that the energy expended…
"Have you reported to Sickbay yet?"
"Mmm…" …the expansion rate is infinite…
"Ian, are you listening to me?"
"Mmmph." …so we track the vector of the last plane and…
A head stuck itself around the door and regarded the lounging scientist critically.
"Had you heard that the sun’s due to go nova in about twenty seconds?" Susan asked dryly.
"Nova?" That got his attention; he even looked up this time. "What are you talking about? And aren’t you ready yet?"
"It’s the Captain’s prerogative to be late." she sniffed, retreating once more.
"I thought that was brides about three hundred years ago." he laughed, lazily getting to his feet and coming to the door. "Can’t you hurry it up?"
The rangy woman was back before her mirror, uncertainly turning this way and that as she peered at her reflection. A hand pushed against her abdomen, the other behind her, pulling at the red jacket covering the grey top.
"Are you really sure about this?" she moaned, looking back at the sardonically smiling one in sciences teal now lounging against the doorway. "Uniforms have certainly changed since I was last out, that’s for sure!"
"Of course I’m sure. It looks fine. Let’s just go!" he groaned, stepping out to gently snag her elbow. "Come on!"
"Alright! Alright! I’m coming!" With an exasperated sigh she followed him, pulling her arm away from his hand. "But I feel very strange with this jacket so loose around me."
"Get demoted a rank and you won’t have to worry about it. Or forego this outfit when you’re on duty, but do I have to remind you it was your decision to wear this?" Out into the corridor they now strode, but his voice didn’t fade noticeably. "Besides, I distinctly remember you complaining about having to strip to visit the head…"
She savagely belted his arm.
"Not out here, Ian!" she hissed, thankful the corridor was empty.
The devil in his eye, he walked on, smiling wryly to himself.
"Do you think we should drop in on the kids on the way through?" she asked as they approached the turbolift. "It’s been a long time for them to be away from us, and on their first day as well…"
"You did before, didn’t you? And I contacted them just before; they’re O.K.…" Seeing her reach for her communicator, his words continued with, "…but you’re going to anyway, aren’t you?"
She waved him silent.
"Randall to play area…"
Ian sighed lovingly and signaled the lift.
Many things were happening over these first days aboard; new duties to accustom oneself to, new quarters to decorate, a new ship to explore. Perhaps, however, the most important thing which was occurring was the forging of new relationships amongst the crew. These first meetings would determine how the crew would react in crisis and how they would gel together as a team.
Of course, it wasn’t just the senior staff who were learning how to tread the fine lines of new meetings, and it was here in Paris that one of the most important social groups for these ‘lesser entities’ was born. Later the ‘Regulars’, as they came to be known, couldn’t - or wouldn’t - agree that the Captain’s reception was when it all began, but the seeds were planted here…
Jedera sat, nursing his sole glass of water and watched the astonishing array of people now coming into the lounge. He’d always been fascinated by people, which was part of the reason he’d joined Starfleet in the first place. His own homeworld, isolated as it was, had a very small, carefully maintained population base, so large social gatherings of different peoples were a peoples were a pleasure he never denied himself. He loved the interplay of other cultures and customs, and eagerly studied and joined in where he could.
To that end, he’d positioned himself at one of the middle tables to the right of the bar and became witness to the ebb and flow of the life forms around him, enjoying himself immensely.
He didn’t know it yet, but he was about to provide the first seed.
"…then I was transferred here…"
For Chiharu’s sake, Lisa was trying to listen, for she knew the kind woman was trying to entertain her. However, the Doctor couldn’t help being jumpy, remembering Carmen’s ‘promise’ she’d come and plague her, so every little movement in the crowd caused her attention to waver fearfully.
This particular time, the motivating factor had been a shift in the crowd to allow others easier access to the doors, and Lisa quickly scanned the faces yet again to ensure none of them were owned by that damned botanist. It was during this scan that she felt her gaze drawn towards a tall figure in Command red.
All pretense at listening to Chiharu’s words faded in the face of this new regard. Suddenly even Carmen didn’t matter.
This one was handsome, tall and well built - not too muscular, but with the square shoulders and taperingly slim torso of a man who looked after himself. He cut a dashing figure in the dress uniform; Lisa had seen many in formal dress owing to her father’s long career in the Fleet, but she doubted she’d ever seen anyone fill out its distinguished lines so well - and she’d always idolized her good looking father.
He was older than her, she noted, but not by that much, and he had a mature, thoughtful air about him. There seemed to be a controlled elegance in the slightest of his movements, and his rich, dark brown skin and beautifully chiseled features were a joy that Lisa fixedly beheld.
Who is he? she wondered feverishly, pushing her mind away from the sudden erotic feelings she thought she’d outgrown in adolescence. Searching through her memory she thought, He would have had to have visited Sickbay sometime today, unless he’d forgotten, like Chi… If he’d arrived before this, I would have seen him around sooner. Gorgeous men like that don’t go unnoticed for too long!
Ignorant of her study, the man moved, graciously allowing someone past him. As he did so, he half turned towards her, inadvertently giving Lisa the best view she’d had of him yet.
Cold electricity coursed down her spine, freezing her into immobility as realization struck.
Commander Grieg! He’s the First Officer! Mentally she began cursing both herself for playing the fool, and Doctor Mem’ness, the lucky bastard who got to meet the Commander when he’d come into the Sickbay to check his files. Why was the opportunity wasted on him? she wondered incredulously, adding her form of reality in the qualifier, Not that I’d have stood a chance, anyway!
While all of this was going on in the Doctor’s mind, Chiharu, seeing her distraction, had stopped talking and was now trying to unobtrusively see what had caught Lisa’s attention. She’d known since meeting the woman that something was bothering her, and hadn’t minded her having only half her attention on what was being said. Now it was a little different, and Chiharu’s own sense of curiosity and slight hurt at being ignored made her want to see.
Despite her petite and innocent appearance, Chiharu was very wise in her own way, and soon came to two conclusions. One was that the doctor had been diverted by something other than what was bothering her; and the other was that she herself now had no chance of getting that attention back. She soon found she couldn’t see who it was Lisa was so taken by without craning around - knowing that might attract the attention of the studied one and would embarrass Lisa in the process, Chiharu refrained from doing so, to murmur instead,
"Who is it?"
"Huh?!" Lisa came back to reality with a thud, hurriedly turning back to her physical companion. "What?"
Chiharu nodded slightly in the direction Lisa had been gazing and repeated curiously,
"Who is it?"
A slow blush accompanied by a scowl crept over Lisa’s face. Too quickly she said,
"Someone so unattainable I can only dream about him."
"But you’re a match of anyone here - unless they’re married." she was reminded. "We’re all officers, save Chief Be’rallt over there."
"Well, there’s equality, and there’s equality." came the mutter, more to herself than to the pilot. She couldn’t believe her stupidity at being attracted to such a personage, and wanted to change the subject quickly, before that damned Quellon made good on her threat. Knowing that woman’s uncanny timing, she’d appear just as the best information was to be heard, and then she. Lisa, would never hear the end of it!
Yet the temptation to look - and dream - was so strong… Could she manage to play it two ways? Change subjects and get a good look? Surveying the room once more, she spied the perfect answer.
Getting to her feet, she tried to sound casual as she suggested,
"Why don’t we go sit with Jedera? He looks so lonely, sitting over there by himself."
Chiharu agreed with a gentle smile. She didn’t know who it was yet, but she did know that whoever this man was, Jedera’s table was that much closer to him!
