76These take me way too long, don't they? This segment is also my entry in the Cutthroat Fiction competition, round 2, beta division. The parameters were for a commentary on the J/C relationship from another character's point of view. Enjoy.
"The Day I Found Out"
Part 3: Tuvok
Before I begin, I would like to call attention to the fact that at no point subsequent to my realization that the Captain and Commander had begun an intimate personal relationship did I observe that their professional relationship had in any way been compromised. Nor was there any corresponding, demonstrable loss in efficiency, theirs or the crew's at large, in the years that followed this shift in their association.
In fact, were I to compare their professional rapport before what I now believe to be the initial alteration in their personal status to their rapport after that alteration, I could say with some certainty that their professional behavior became, if anything, more professional. The conclusion I must draw from this observation is that, from that point forward, their more … ardent encounters, both personal and professional, were subsequently kept behind closed doors.
And, rather fittingly, the notion of a "closed door," both practical and symbolic, figures prominently in this anecdote.
And yes, I remember the day that I found out.
Some weeks after our encounter with the Silver Blood aliens, we came across a species called the Theoteurn. They were warp-capable, although not yet in possession of transporter technology, and friendly. Fascinated and moved by our story, these earnest, bipedal people were most willing to trade with us for supplies. Soon after our first contact with their orbital outpost and following a discussion with their planetary government, Lieutenant Torres had compiled a list of raw materials we required and goods to trade for them, Mister Neelix had a number of dubious nutritional requests, and Commander Chakotay had determined several likely surface locations for the crew's recreation, should the Captain authorize it and the Theoteurn approve.
Their planetary leader, Gelleth, a tall, gray-haired male with the oversized eyes so characteristic of his species, was delighted to accommodate our requests … pending formal negotiations.
It soon became clear that "formal negotiations" required the Captain's personal presence on the planet's surface, and that the process could last several days. It was a logical assumption, given that the negotiation merely for permission to orbit Teurn and the discussion about the geodistance of that orbit, a process that normally takes a matter of seconds, required 4.2 hours.
The Captain assigned Lieutenant Torres and me to accompany her to meet with Gelleth. Commander Chakotay, fully aware that the Captain's patience tends to wear thin quickly in the presence of excessive bureaucracy, offered to take her place. "I'll come up with something, Kathryn," he said, having drawn her to the periphery of the shuttle bay while Lieutenant Torres and I waited nearby. "I'll tell them you're ill or busy or –"
She patted his arm. "Thank you, Chakotay, but Gelleth asked for the highest-ranking officer. For better or for worse, that's me."
The Commander frowned. "I could come with you."
The Captain glanced in my direction. I quickly averted my gaze, reluctant to be caught eavesdropping. "Tuvok would have a fit."
"Tuvok doesn't have a leg to stand on," Chakotay replied. "The Theoteurn have been peaceful and accommodating every step of the way."
"Accommodating," the Captain echoed, "but awfully damn deliberate."
Commander Chakotay chuckled. "They're going to drive you crazy, Kathryn."
"Very likely," she acknowledged. "But we need the supplies."
"Are you sure you really need to stay planetside the whole time?"
"It was Gelleth's particular request. And since they don't have transporter technology…" She sighed. "It won't be so bad. Maybe I'll enjoy getting away for a few weeks."
"It better not take that long," he grumbled. "Or I'll be the one going crazy."
"Poor baby," the Captain said in a tone I had never heard from her before. It was with great difficulty that I did not turn to stare at them again. Instead, I glanced at Lieutenant Torres, who seemed to have developed an inordinate fascination with the texture of the deck plating between her feet. "You'll live, I'm sure," the Captain continued in that same tone – dry but amused and … affectionate.
"You'll call every night?"
"You drew up the report-in schedule yourself."
"That's not what I meant."
The Captain laughed. "I'll see what I can do, Chakotay, but no promises. The walls have ears, you know."
She motioned for the Lieutenant and me to board the shuttle, and before I could examine my own sudden bewilderment, the Commander had opened the shuttlebay doors and sent us on our way to Teurn.
Gelleth's hospitality was unimpeachable. We were assigned a comfortable suite in the diplomatic compound – three well-appointed bedrooms that opened onto a common work room and living area. The living area had a replicator that the Captain soon discovered was capable of producing passable coffee, although we took our meals with Gelleth and his diplomatic corps in an opulent dining hall near our guest quarters. We were provided with entertainment in the form of video programming, reading material, and music after each day's negotiations concluded.
In short, we were provided everything we could possibly want or need on Teurm … except a successful and swift end to the interminable negotiations.
The Theoteurn seemed to have an inexplicable number of traditions surrounding each type of negotiation. There were ritual words to say upon opening each day of talks, ritual seating arrangements, ritual foods to consume. It was grating, but the Captain was certain success was imminent and encouraged us to, in her words, "play along."
Finally, on the fourth day, we achieved a breakthrough of sorts: Gelleth agreed to replenish our supply of mercassium in return for Gretchen Janeway's caramel brownies recipe.
"And there was much rejoicing on Qo'noS," Lieutenant Torres grumbled after we had retired to our suite for the night.
"At least you can mark mercassium off your list of minerals, B'Elanna," the Captain said, sinking into a soft chair and removing her boots.
Torres began to pace. "One down, twenty-three to go."
Before the Captain could criticize the display of impatience, someone rang for entry into the suite. I called for entry, and Gelleth stepped through the doorway with a tray laden with a large pitcher and three glasses. The Captain rose to meet him. "What can we do for you, Gelleth?"
"Gentle travelers," he began. "I'm aware that the ritual nature of Theoteurn negotiations is counter to your preferences. But I feel our successful negotiation today will be the first of many. Please partake of this traditional beverage to celebrate our breakthrough, and accept my thanks for your patience." He carefully poured three glasses of a violently green beverage. "It's called thiva juice. Made from the finest, freshest fruit. A traditional beverage to seal our goodwill and mutual amity." He served each of us a glass and stared at us expectantly.
Sensing the momentous nature of the occasion, the Captain raised her glass. "To Gelleth and his diplomats," she said and drank deeply. Torres and I followed suit. The drink was pleasantly cool and sweet.
We all turned to Gelleth, expecting something more from this ritual, but the man merely nodded, smiled, and vacated the suite, leaving behind the tray and the half-full pitcher.
"Well, that was weird," Torres said, and resumed her pacing, glass in hand.
"It's tasty, though," the Captain said. She took a long sip and cocked her head to one side, pondering the beverage in her glass. "Refreshing."
"I wonder what's in it," B'Elanna said. "Tom would love it. Tastes like pomegranate."
"Tastes more like cranberries to me." The Captain poured herself another serving. "Whatever it is, I approve."
"How are our shipmates faring, Captain?" I asked, seating myself on the empty sofa. I sipped the beverage carefully, expecting hints of both pomegranate and cranberry. Instead, the beverage tasted to me like fresh v'lia berries.
The Captain returned to her chair. "Chakotay says everything's fine and under control." She turned to Lieutenant Torres. "Have you talked to Tom?"
Torres stopped pacing for a moment and nodded. "He and Harry have Sandrine's up and running again."
"I'm sorry you're missing it."
"That's not all I'm missing," Torres growled, and downed the remainder of her beverage in one long gulp. "This planet is infuriating."
"B'Elanna," the Captain warned.
"Oh, don't tell me you aren't just as frustrated as I am," Torres snapped. The Captain narrowed her eyes but let the remark pass. Torres finished off her drink and slammed the empty glass on the table. "I'm going to go call Tom. Don't wait up for me."
Startled, I watched her stalk into her bedroom and slam the door. I meant to remark upon the Lieutenant's impulsiveness, but when I turned back to the Captain, she seemed to have not noticed the abrupt exit. Instead, she was once again pondering her beverage. "It can't be pomegranate," she murmured. "Chakotay hates pomegranate." She took a long drink. "It's definitely cranberries."
"Captain?"
She glanced up at me, her eyes slightly unfocused. "Hmmm? Oh, I was just thinking that Chakotay would like this juice. But it doesn't taste like pomegranate. It tastes like cranberries. He loves cranberries." She drained her glass and rose from her chair. "Speaking of Chakotay, it's time for my nightly check-in. See you in the morning Tuvok." And with that, she strolled into her bedroom and closed the door – more softly than Lieutenant Torres had, but with similar haste.
I considered my thiva juice.
It did not taste like cranberries or pomegranate. It tasted of v'lia berries fresh from the bushes near my bondmate's family home in the hills near ShiKahr.
I sat back on the sofa and allowed my thoughts to wander back to the days following our first meeting. T'Pel and I had been so young then, so full of intellectual curiosity and rigor. I reached out along the tendrils of my bond with she who is my wife and sent my memories of our strolls among the hills near ShiKahr, those hours that had been so suffused with invigorating conversation, every moment a stimulating and rousing exchange of ideas and positions, every word ripe with arduous logic and penetrating insight. I sent these thoughts along the bond, reaching out toward my bondmate's shimmering consciousness, which I sensed stretching back to me. We had nearly reached the instant of ultimate joining …
When I heard a growl from behind B'Elanna's closed door, a sound I could only describe as "rapturous."
The growl was immediately followed by the sounds of hushed conversation from behind the Captain's closed door. Discomfited, I rose abruptly and retreated to my own bedroom. Alas, even two closed doors and two rooms away, I distinctly heard the words "thigh" and "hair" and "mouth," and then a low, feminine moan I did not wish to hear from my Captain ever again.
T'Pel broadcast a entreaty along the bond.
I retired to the shuttlecraft for the night.
I took the remaining thiva juice with me.
=/\=
Two days later, negotiations thankfully complete, we returned to Voyager. We never spoke of the night in question again – not even the next morning, when all three of us sat through a silent breakfast, fatigued and distressed, unable to exchange anything but the politest of pleasantries, unwilling to meet each other's eyes.
Over the next two weeks, as goods were transferred between the ship and the surface, most of the crew eventually enjoyed shore leave on Teurn. Lieutenant Torres and I politely declined. The Captain and Commander joined the first leave rotation, which left me in command for three days – three thankfully uneventful days in which I meditated during every available off-duty moment, still unsettled by the time I had spent on Teurn.
Mere hours after their return to the ship, Commander Chakotay summoned me to his quarters, a very unusual request. Curious, I reported at the appointed time. The Commander was just emerging from his bedroom when I entered. "Ah, thanks for coming, Tuvok." He greeted me with a smile. "Are you looking forward to getting back to your real job?"
"Indeed," I replied. "May I ask the reason for this summons?"
"The Captain brought back a gift for you," he said. "She wanted to give it to you herself, but B'Elanna just called her down to Engineering. So she said I could have the honors." He darted into his bedroom and retrieved a sparkling, cut-glass bottle … filled with a violently green liquid. He thrust the bottle into my unwilling hands. "Kathryn says you'll know what to do with it."
"Sir, I do not wish to be rude, but –"
The Commander laughed. "Just take it, Tuvok. And chalk it up to Kathryn's weird sense of humor."
"Yes, sir," I sighed. And then, belatedly, "Thank you."
"No, Tuvok," he said. "Thank you. For your discretion."
Our eyes met. I nodded. Upon turning to leave his quarters, I glanced into his bedroom. On the bedside table I spied two empty juice glasses, one with a distinct smear of the Captain's preferred shade of lipstick.
And that is how I found out.
###
