AN: This is intended to take place midway through the Voyager's passage through the Delta Quadrant. It is also intended to be a kind of a romance between the captain and her Vulcan security chief, so if you aren't a fan of Tuvok... hey, how could you not be? well, to each, and so on... ::grins:: All mistakes are mine; all characters, ships, and quirks belong to the great Paramount Federation. Can you believe it's been 40 years??
Captain Janeway sighed in the nearly soundless way she had perfected over years of captaining her highly diverse crew. Many of them were light years from what would be considered proper Starfleet material. But then she supposed that was appropriate, since they were not within light years of Starfleet. She should know exactly how far they had come, and how far they still had to go, but concentrated on pinning her hair back instead of recalling numbers. She scowled at the mirror. Damned fine time to have to pay a formal courtesy call when they were running so low on edibles. But Neelix had insisted that they could not pass through the Laotir system without a formal visit, and damned if it wasn't the exact week the Laotir noble class was throwing a ball to celebrate some holy day or another, and Janeway couldn't pass up the invitation if she hoped to negotiate for supplies.
Neelix had informed her, rather helpfully, that the Laotir were a matriarchal society, and Janeway had decided to head the away team herself. Chakotay had cheerfully declined to accompany her, claiming two left feet, which he then had to explain to Tuvok, much to the bridge crew's amusement. So she had asked Tuvok to pose as her consort, and he had readily accepted, preferring to keep her as close as possible if she insisted on beaming down to the planet. Kim and B'Elanna would round out the away team, providing observation as well as a little extra security. Diplomatic missions were rarer than they should be, and Janeway suspected that she was feeling tense just because nothing was wrong. Yet.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a chime at the door. Her 'date' had arrived. She attempted a smile. "Come in." Her smile became genuine at the very moment she tried to stifle it, as Tuvok wandered in slowly, his attention and both hands fixed on his collar.
"The Laotir formal neck ties seem to be…" He paused, and tried a different configuration. The slippery ties seemed to knot for a moment, and then came undone in his long fingers. With tense patience, he retied the knot, as Janeway used the extra moment to get her amusement under wraps. Finally, Tuvok looked up at her, his upswept eyebrows creased in a stern frown. "They did not come with instructions." His gaze softened slightly as he took in his captain's long blue gown and arm coverings. "I perceive the strength of the matriarch class in the simplicity of your clothing." Was that wryness in his voice, or approval? As with every emotion he betrayed, it was so subtle as to be virtually nonexistent, but she knew him well enough to suspect the former of the two.
Janeway stepped closer to him, studying the ties at his neck. "May I?" He raised an eyebrow, as if questioning her neck-tie tying abilities, but then nodded once, his dark eyes calm. As she reached up to take the ties in her hands, her body instantly registered that a line had been crossed, a line of unvarying physical distance that she and her chief of security maintained at all times. She knew intellectually that humans were an unpleasant riot of unshielded sensations for a touch telepath to come into contact with, and she was meticulously careful not to discomfort her friend. But she realized that no amount of care was going to prevent them from coming into some sort of physical contact tonight, however she would try to limit it. As she worked one end of the silken tie through a loop in the other, her brow creased in thought. "Tuvok… we might be required to dance…"
He didn't even waver. "I know, Captain. And I am prepared for that eventuality. Thank you for your concern, but it is not necessary."
She nodded. "I should have expected as much, old friend." With a flick of her wrist, the ties fell into a looping bow that was similar to an Earth style bowtie. Janeway tried to flatten it, and succeeded by tucking the ends in. She turned to look at Tuvok in the mirror. The jacket he wore had no sleeves, exposing his finely muscled arms, but the collar rose uncomfortably against his jawline. In contrast, Janeway's clothing did not discomfort her at all, except that it was a little low in the back. Tuvok's brow was very slightly creased, and his eyes flicked to Janeway's gown again, his eyebrows riding up gently. She could read his expression very clearly now, but he did her the favor of clarifying, anyway.
"I have to say, Captain, that you came off much better in this exchange of culture."
She couldn't suppress a smile anymore, though she tried very valiantly to do so.
"Tuvok, you look very handsome. I feel like I should be asking you for a corsage."
"Would that be another obscure Old Earth reference?" She felt the kindling warmth of his dry humor, and nodded, feeling a wicked streak rising.
"A terrifying ritual called 'Prom.' A formal dance for those entering adulthood that began with the gift of flowers and ended with a deflowering, in many cases. Still honored in many Earth societies and colonies."
Tuvok rallied with fine courage, his modulated voice only catching very slightly on an intake of breath. "I am sorry to inform you, Captain, that I have no corsage to offer you."
"Ah, more's the pity. Tuvok. I suppose now you'll shame me by bringing me home before midnight…"
"If your honor would be impugned, Captain, I might be able to find a place to conceal you to wait for a more appropriate time."
At this, Janeway laughed outright. "That round to you, Tuvok." He gazed primly at her, acknowledging the point, the light in his eyes probably just a reflection from the half illumination of her cabin. Janeway palmed her communicator, searched for an appropriate place on her dress to clasp it, and then just settled for pressing it like a brooch right where it normally sat on her much more comfortable uniform. "Shall we?"
He bowed her forward, and she strode out the door, not forgetting for a moment that she was dressed for a ball, but certain that it would have absolutely no effect on anyone's ability to follow orders. Tuvok followed close behind, believing with his entire mind that the way the captain was dressed would have absolutely no effect on him. But he couldn't help notice, in an entirely clinical and disconnected manner, that the cut of her Laotir dress was so low in the back that he would have very few places, during a dance, to position his hand without either touching his captain's mind space or earning a permanent reprimand on his record.