Star Trek Voyager: Fireworks

Seven couldn’t help but exhale a small, anxious sigh as she looked down at the darkened street below. It was quiet, even peaceful, a few London residents, and tourists like herself, dawdling calmly down the grand old side street, taking advantage of the fact that it was no longer raining. She drew the heavy curtain aside and began to take off the grey suit she’d fretted over that morning, her relief turning to unease as she glanced over at the dress she had laid out over the back of the hotel room’s faded velvet chair, was it really appropriate for a simple evening meal out? She looked critically around the room she stood in for a moment, was any of this really appropriate? It wasn’t that she disliked staying here, the service had been as gracious and unobtrusive as the building itself, an unquestionably elegant sandstone townhouse built, according to the brochure, during the “Georgian” period of 18th Century Britain. It perhaps wasn’t as efficient as a modern 24th Century building would’ve been, but she had to admit that the architectural style was admirable. The plush four poster bed also had much to recommend it. Still, it bothered her that Chakotay had put so much effort into making this trip impressive, since the true purpose of it was the job interview she’d had today. She could have transported here by herself and been back to their small apartment in San Francisco within hours, with minimal disruption to their normal lives, but Chakotay had insisted on making the journey a weekend break, even asking her Aunt Irene over from Stockholm to accompany her around London the day before while he completed some unspecified “errands”. He’d put so much effort into making sure she appreciated London that she was at the point of believing that he was determined she take the job and move away from him. She was now strongly regretting even considering the job in the first place, because she’d always known that the last thing she wanted to do was leave Chakotay. Although the rational part of her mind, the part that remembered his declarations of love over the past months, fought the notion passionately, the mere flicker of an idea that Chakotay didn’t mind if they were parted by distance, perhaps even desired it that way, was enough to set the kindling of anxiety buried in her heart aflame.

“Seven, are you nearly ready?” Chakotay’s deep voice travelled cheerily to her ears from through the door of the room’s en-suite, which was sitting slightly ajar.

Seven froze for an instant before pulling herself together, snatching up the dress hurriedly and starting to climb into it, her nervously damp hands slipping on the delicate silken fabric. “I am almost prepared.” She called back in a shaky reply.

Chakotay emerged from the en-suite a few seconds later, his fitted dark navy shirt still needing cufflinks but otherwise looking perfectly turned out in smart black dress trousers, a matching jacket thrown casually over one of his lithe arms. Seeing his reflection coming towards her as she stood in front of the full length mirror was enough to stop Seven in her tracks, dress still unzipped. Chakotay’s grin, already wide at the sight of her, grew when he saw her reaction to him. “I’m guessing this outfit meets with your approval then?” he asked teasingly, chuckling fondly when she just smirked in response and then stepping swiftly toward to help her with the dress. He felt her shiver at the closeness of his fingers to her skin, but quickly suppressed the lust it aroused in him, for now. Tonight was important, special. He didn’t want to get too distracted. The full effect of the dress through, still managed to pull an awestruck gasp from him. “You look beautiful…absolutely amazing.”

Seven smiled at him gratefully, able to hear his sincerity and see it in his eyes, as well as feel the warm, almost reverential, breath caressing the back of her neck. “You’re certain its not too…extravagant?” she asked uncertainly, tugging at the skirt and, despite herself, feeling a girlish thrill run through her at the swish of the fine layer of crinoline brushing her legs.

Chakotay shook his head firmly, astounded, as he often was, by her view of herself. Her complete lack, no, total incomprehension, of vanity was one of the things he loved about her, but in parallel her low self-esteem often upset and frustrated him. If only she could she herself through his eyes for a moment, then she’d know how beautiful she really was, outside and in. “No. You look great in everything you wear but that dress is perfect on you. Especially for tonight, it suits where we’re going.”