DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2006 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.

Waltzing with the Muses

by Djinn

----------Calliope's Wishing Well----------

Chapel fidgeted in her seat, trying to ease the pain in her rear. Epic poetry was one thing; epic poetry in German was goddamned torture. And she'd bought the ticket for this of her own free will--she had only herself to blame.

She felt someone poke her in the back and quit moving around. Damned purists--it wasn't like you needed to actually see the sadist on stage reciting his saga to get the effect.

Again the poke.

She whipped around to glare at the Finger from Hell and saw Kirk grinning back at her.

He leaned forward, his breath warm on her ear. "Good stuff, yes? I'm riveted. How about you?"

She saw her neighbor to the right glance over, his mouth set disapprovingly, so she settled for nodding.

"Want to get the hell out of here?" Kirk asked.

She let an eyebrow go up with such ease that Spock would have been proud of her. If he ever gave her that much thought. Which he didn't. And she was okay with that.

The man on stage took a breath, and she thought for a moment he might be winding down. But he threw his arms up, adding bad acting to bad rhetoric.

"Oh, God, make it stop," she said, much too loudly. Both sides of the neighborhood glared at her.

Kirk snickered and said, "See you outside." Then he left her to make her own way out of the aisle. He was leaning against the concert hall's outside wall when she hit the exit.

"Some gentleman."

"You're the Emergency specialist. You don't need me to tell you how to get out of an auditorium." He took her arm and started down the street. "Chris, it's damned good to see you." His smile was friendly. Very, very friendly.

"Are you drunk, sir?"

"It's Jim. And no. No, I'm not. I am, however, on leave."

"Lucky me. So, have you been sampling some fun drugs?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

She leaned into him. "Then why are we walking arm and arm down this Berlin street?"

"Because we're not in there listening to Beowulf."

"That wasn't Beowulf."

"Well, whatever it was." He sighed. "And because it's my fifty-first birthday and there is no old enemy after me and no one is going to die."

"Ooooo-kay."

"Then again, the night's still young. And I'm not." His voice dipped low, nudging into the bitter zone. "Isn't life great?"

She tripped a little on the uneven street, bumped up against him, and felt something distinctly flask-like jut into her thigh. She reached into his pocket, digging out the offending item.

"Commander, if you want something, you only need to ask." He grinned when she brandished the flask. "Why, how the devil did that get there?"

"I can't imagine." She opened the flash, and sampled the poison. Her eyes immediately began to water. "Mother of all that's--what the hell is this?"

"Andorian gin. It's a killer."

"I think you might be right about that," she said, then took another pull.

"Go easy, Chris. I'm in no shape to get you home."

"You said you weren't drunk."

"Yes and I was lying." He leaned in. "I do that sometimes."

"So, you're drunk because it's your birthday?"

"You only know it's my birthday because I'm drunk." He leaned in. "I wouldn't have told you how old I was, either, if I wasn't three--maybe four or five--sheets to the wind." He veered suddenly, pulling her down an alley.

"Where are we going?"

"To my favorite fountain."

"Three wishes and all that?"

"It's my birthday, Chris. I can make as many wishes as I want." He stopped and pointed. "See. Pretty."

"Very." It was a birdbath. A tall, very ornate, birdbath. But still...

"Don't humor me." He walked over to it, staring at it with unguarded affection. "When I was just a kid, it was a fountain. It was my fountain."

"You grew up here? I thought you were from Iowa?"

"Oh, Iowa's where I lived. But my grandma was here. I visited her every summer. I loved coming here." He turned to look at her. "I was about seven when she died. Trips stopped then."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "We all lose people."

"Yes, we do." She took another sip of his rock gut. "So what were you doing at the poetry reading?"

"I saw you. Followed you in."

"Points off for bad judgment."

"Yeah. I didn't read the marquee." He dipped his hand into the water, splashed some on his face. Then he did it again, with more vigor.

"That water's probably not very clean."

He laughed. "This is Germany. Everything's clean."

"Point taken." It was scarily tidy here. "Why did you follow me?"

"I don't know." He turned, studied her as the tips of his hair dripped water onto his cheeks.

She walked to the birdbath, trailed her finger through it. "So, do wishes really come with this thing?"

"I always thought so. Then again, I hadn't lived much back then."

"Not like now?"

"Weathered and beaten." He took the flask from her.

"Why does getting old bug you so much?"

"Ask me that when you turn fifty-one."

She decided not to engage anymore, walked around his little fountain, and took his arm again, leading him off.

"I'm not ready to go."

"Sure you are."

"Where are you taking me?" He leaned into her, his body warm and strong even if a bit tipsy.

"Where do you want me to take you?"

"I don't know. Where do you want to take me?"

Laughing softly at the game of verbal roulette they were playing, she steered him to the transporter station. "Home, I think."

"That sounds promising."

"Your home."

"Less so. Unless you're the kind of woman who likes to be able to make a dash once you've had enough."

"Had enough of what?" She batted her eyelashes at him.

"I am immune to your charms. Do that again." He laughed softly. "It's my birthday, dammit. I'd like some cake. Sachertorte, maybe."

"Uh huh."

"Vienna is just a hop away."

"Jim, anywhere on Earth is just a hop away by transporter."

"We could take the train."

"Yes, or we could hire a carriage."

He dug his heels in, refused to budge. "It's very bad luck to refuse to go to the Hotel Sacher with me on my birthday."

"Your fifty-first birthday."

"Right."

"I don't even like sachertorte."

"Then you, my dear, can have a Napoleon." He started walking again. "It's settled."

She gave up and let him take over. He told the transporter tech their new destination, held her elbow as they stepped up to the pad.

As they walked out into the Vienna night, she asked, "Why did you follow me, Jim?"

"I'm not drunk enough to tell you."

She handed him the flask, and he laughed loudly. A spontaneous, happy laugh that made her grin. She noticed he didn't take a drink, just shoved the flask back into his pocket.

"Why?"

"Because you're wearing the hell out of that dress."

"I thought you weren't going to tell me."

"I changed my mind."

"I've worn the hell out of dresses before. You never showed much interest."

"Were you disappointed?" His eyes were just a little dangerous and very amused.

"Not really." She smiled as she said it.

"You're honest, Chris. I like that."

"Did you even know it was me? Or was I just a bodacious dress?" It was a great dress. Cost her a month's salary--well, it had cost Todd that, if he made what she did, which he didn't. Todd could have bought her five of these dresses a day and not even blinked. It was the one thing she missed about him: living large.

"I knew it was you."

She studied his face. "Why are you alone on your birthday? Where's Len? Or Spock?"

"I'll see them tomorrow." He shrugged. "I get...weird on my birthday. Better to celebrate the next day."

They turned into the hotel, didn't have to wait for a table in the charming red and gold cafe, or for the steaming hot coffee and dessert.

"So, tell me, Chris. What would you have wished for in my fountain?"

"I don't know."

"Not true love?"

She smiled and laughed a little, knew both came off bitter. "Uh. No."

"You're not still interested in Spock, are you?"

"Even I can move on. And thanks for the vote of confidence. It was...someone else. Someone you don't know."

"He hurt you?" He touched her hand, his fingers dipping down lightly, not really coming to roost.

"Did he hurt me?" She thought about that. Todd hadn't hurt her...exactly. "He just confirmed some things."

"Bad things?"

"I don't know. Things I've had to have thumped into me, I guess. About love."

"Like that it never works?" He was nodding. "Or that love's an elusive bitch. That kind of thing?"

"Wow, isn't that depressing? You too, huh?"

He shrugged. "I thought I had someone back in my life. But...I lost her when I lost my son."

"Carol?" She'd heard the story from Ny.

"Yeah."

And then Gillian, that perky young thing from the past, had rushed off to embrace her new destiny, leaving Jim looking a little bemused on the tribunal floor. Chapel had watched from the corridor, not meaning to intrude, but Jan had wanted to wait for their captain. Jan, who'd found someone she was crazy about, finally, and was getting married. At least one of them still knew how to love.

Jim sighed. "So here I am. I see attractive women. I do nothing. I've lost my touch, Chris."

"Hey, you're stalking me into poetry readings. I'd say you've still got the knack." She gave him a hard look. "Unless you're saying I'm not attractive?"

"I'm not saying that." Again the grin. "I do like you."

She smiled, felt suddenly a little shy. "I like you, too." She lifted her cup to him. "To birthdays. Because the alternative's worse."

He thought about it for a second, then nodded. "Chin chin."

She realized he wasn't drunk at all. Just probably a little buzzed, the way she was. He sipped at his coffee, watching her over the lip of the cup, a small smile playing at his mouth.

"What?" she asked.

"I don't know. This is nice."

She leaned forward. "It's a red-velvet cafe that hasn't changed since the nineteenth century. In Vienna. With yummy chocolate and caffeine. If it weren't nice, I'd want my credits back."

"You make a good point. I think the company might have a little to do with it, though."

"Don't bet on it." But she knew she was smiling in a way that was probably much too sappy--this man was dangerous. "When is your leave over?"

"Tomorrow."

Tomorrow. She was safe, then. He'd go, and she would remember this as just a fun night. His birthday--the one she'd helped him celebrate. It would mean Andorian gin, and bird baths, and sachertorte.

If she could wish, though... But she didn't wish. She was long past wishes. Wishes had no point. And...it was safer this way.

"What are you thinking?"

She met his eyes. "Nothing."

"Liar." But he didn't press, just held out his fork to her, his last piece of sachertorte on it.

She shook her head and he pulled the fork back, and finished it himself. Their eyes met, and his were calm.

"Happy birthday to me." He looked around as she nodded, seemed to be breathing in the atmosphere of the old hotel. "I think I might get a room..."

"Good idea. Indulge yourself." She waved the waiter over, signed for the dessert, ignoring Jim when he protested. "It's your present. Happy birthday."

"You're leaving?" He didn't sound surprised.

"I am. Early shift in the morning." A lie. Same shift as ever. But he didn't know that.

She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, lingering longer than was probably wise. "Good night, Jim. Godspeed."

She felt his hand on her back, rubbing gently, heard his soft "Good night." Then she turned and hurried out of the hotel.

Back to San Francisco. Back to reality. Boring, but safe.

----------The Song of Euterpe----------

A hand passed in front of Chapel's face as she sat at the science station in Ops. A hand holding a personal padd with two tickets on the screen. She didn't need to turn to look, could tell by Jan's surprised expression who was standing behind her.

She read the tickets. "La Traviata?"

"Box seats. In Rome. Tomorrow night. On me." Jim leaned down; his breath as he talked made her hair move. "Yes?"

"What's the occasion?"

"Payback. For having to listen to me whine about getting old." He straightened, moved into view. "Hello, Jan."

"Captain." Jan glanced at Chapel with a look that said there was going to be a lot of explaining to do. Fortunately, not a look that held any anger. It was a testament to how crazy Jan was for Paul that this did not appear to be bugging her.

"Congratulations on your wedding," Jim said, his hand falling on Chapel's shoulder as he talked.

"You are coming, right?" Jan was beaming. "You'll like him. He's a lot like you."

"He's a lucky man. And yes, if I can get back, I'm coming."

Jan smiled at them both. "Why don't you two find someplace a little more private to talk?"

"Excellent advice, Jan." He lifted his hand from Chapel's shoulder. "Shall we?"

She followed him into the corridor. "You don't have to pay me back."

"I know." Gesturing to an exit, he looked a little longingly at the bright sunshine. "It's a nice day."

"Then let's go enjoy it." For a second, she almost expected him to take her arm as he led her outside. Glancing at him, she saw him grin as he caught her looking. "What?"

"You knew I was back, of course."

"It's possible." No ship came home without them knowing it. The Enterprise was back for an upgrade to its nav system. All the ships were coming in for it. He'd be here three days tops. He'd just arrived, too. Which meant he hadn't wasted much time coming to see her. She bit back a smile, even as she told herself not to read too much into that.

"Did you think I'd come visit you?"

It had been a month since his birthday. She hadn't expected any comms from him, and he hadn't disappointed her. She'd thought Berlin was what it was. A one-time moment of connection. Sympathy over a bird bath.

She met his eyes. "No. I didn't."

"I didn't think I'd come, either." His smile was a little shaky. "Not sure why I did. Other than I keep thinking of that night."

"It was the dress." She laughed at his expression.

"It was more than the dress. A dress doesn't get me wondering." At her look, he grinned. "Well, okay, a dress does get me wondering about some things. But not to the extent I've been thinking about you."

"It's easy to make things more than what they are." She knew this from experience--was, in fact, a master of the art.

"Is that what I'm doing?" He slowed, studied her. "Should I stop?"

She felt as if he could see far too deep inside her. "What do you want to do, Jim?"

"I don't know what I want anymore. I wanted my ship back. And I have her back. And...it's not enough."

"What would be enough?"

"I don't know. But...I keep thinking of you."

"Maybe it's just some lingering post-birthday angst? Not me at all."

He grimaced, then pulled her along, to a bench set away from the building. "Who was he?"

"Who was who?"

"The man who left you so damn guarded."

She shook her head.

"Chris, come on. You know me: I can finesse any situation. Provided I understand it."

"Maybe I don't want you to finesse me."

"Help me understand, anyway."

Sighing, she looked away. "Todd Cabot."

"You were dating him?" The disgust was palpable.

"I take it you're not a fan."

"Who the hell is? Other than his bankers."

She sighed. "He was...different."

"Than what?" Making a face, he made a motion as if waving her away. "Jesus, Chris--Cabot?"

"It didn't end well." She frowned. "Why do you dislike him so?"

"He has a thing for scientists."

He wasn't wrong. She and Todd had met at a benefit. For a science foundation. She hadn't realized until much too late that he'd been trolling for new meat, not just supporting the cause. "I still don't see the connection to you."

"He dated Carol after I left." He sighed. "I'd forgotten how much I hated him. It's been so long and we don't travel in the same circles. Normally." He looked down at clenched fists. "He was there when my son was born, Chris. Playing father to David. Didn't stay very long, thank God. David was barely two when he left. Probably didn't even know he'd had a fake dad."

She took his hand, trying to pry open the tight fingers. "I'm sorry." Carol had lasted with Todd a hell of a lot longer than Chapel had. But then that had been many years ago. As far as Chapel knew, no one lasted very long with Todd anymore.

"Did he hurt you?"

"No. He just...moved on. Before I was ready for him to." She gave up on getting his fists open, just held them the way they were. "He was cold. At the end. Like Spock. Only without the wacky charm."

Jim smiled, but it faded quickly. "Were you in love with him?"

She shrugged. Then she looked up at him. "Were you in love with Carol? Or were you just trying to recapture something that might make you feel less alone?"

"Ouch." He smiled grimly. "But not inaccurate. I don't know what's wrong with me, Chris. I feel like I've missed something. Like somewhere along the line, I took a wrong step. And I ended up here." He looked over at her and unclenched his fist enough to draw her hand into his. "I don't mean right here with you. But...alone."

"We're all alone, Jim. Even when we're with someone, we're still alone in here." She tapped the side of his head very gently. "I found that out with Todd."

"I know." He met her eyes, his own penetrating. "Come with me to the opera tomorrow?"

"Do you think that's a good idea? Neither of us is in the best place emotionally."

"True. But it's Rome, Chris. And if you're very good, I'll take you to Venice. To my favorite hotel."

Her eyebrow went up.

"You can have your own room." He scooted closer, not romantically close, just near enough for comfort. "Say you'll do it."

She could feel some part of her suggesting she back away slowly. But her mouth was operating on its own. "Okay. I'll do it."

His grin was heart stopping. "I'll pick you up at your place at six. Wear something unbearably sexy." He squeezed her hand and let go, getting up. "Pack something you can roam Venice in, too."

"You're spoiling me."

"Not after Cabot, I'm not. I'm not even in his league."

She took his hand, felt the warmth, the strong pulse. "Believe me, you're well beyond it."

"You do know what to say." He stared down at her a moment, then walked away, heading around the building toward the main entrance.

She watched him until he was out of sight. Getting up with a sigh, she made her way back to ops, rolling her eyes when she saw Jan give her a predatory smile.

"Chapel, I want all the gory details when you get back from Rome."

"You think I'm going?"

"I know you're going, missy. One of us has to find out what he's like." Jan gave her a sweetly mischievous grin. "And I'm afraid it can't be me anymore. I'm very much taken."

Chapel felt a pang. She'd once felt that way, with Roger. Lucky to be in love. Lucky to be loved back. It had been a very long time since she'd felt that way. Maybe something had died in her, in those caves, when Roger was lost again. When Roger turned out to have never been there at all.

She started to send Jim a message, started to try to weasel out of their trip. But then she remembered his grin and the lonely look in his eyes.

She cancelled the message and went back to work.

------

Chapel leaned forward, enjoying how she could see the entire stage from the box Jim had gotten. She felt his hand trail down her back--her very exposed back. He had said unbearably sexy. This was the dress for it. Although she wasn't sure that at her age what was inside the dress qualified.

His hand stopped where the dress started up again, very low on her back. His fingers trailed along the edge of the fabric, then ran up again. She glanced over at him, saw that he was watching the stage intently. He didn't seem aware he was even touching her.

What this man could do with one little touch was criminal. She shivered, and he looked over, then at his hand, as if it was operating on its own initiative. But he didn't pull it away, just smiled and gave her a questioning look.

She leaned into his touch, and he smiled again, and turned his attention back to the stage. But his touch was more calculated this time, and she put her hand on his thigh, causing him to laugh softly. He looked over at her, then down at her hand, and murmured, "I dare you."

She slowly ran her hand up. He stopped her before she could edge into the danger zone. Pursing his lips a little, he nodded, as if reassessing her. "Ballsy."

"Never dare an ops person," she whispered. Then she moved her hand back down to his knee, sliding his hand with her.

He tightened his hold on her a little, his other hand making its long slow exploration of her back again. She had a hard time following the rest of the opera. Fortunately, she didn't care all that much. When it was over, he sat for a moment in the box, watching the others leave the hall.

"They're like peacocks," she murmured, taking in all the beautiful colors.

He nodded. "Or tropical fish. All heading one way."

"To the bar," she said, and he laughed. She moved closer. "I like it here."

"Do you?"

She nodded.

"I think they'll kick us out if we try to set up camp."

She pretended to pout, and he seemed mesmerized by her lips. She let them go back into a more serious expression.

"I liked your lips better the other way. For this anyway..." He kissed her, a soft, gentle--but not at all tentative--kiss.

She kissed him back the same way.

When he pulled away, his smile was a little sheepish. "You have to admit this beats the hell out of listening to me whine."

"I didn't mind listening to you whine." Letting him draw her up, she closed her eyes and shivered as he settled her wrap around her shoulders, his hands going underneath the silk and chiffon to touch her skin again.

"Venice?"

She nodded.

"Two rooms?"

She opened her eyes, studied him. Then she started to smile, her lips tilting up very slowly. "One."

His lips began the same slow ride into a smile. "One it is." He let his hand fall to the small of her back, pressing in just enough to let her know he was there.

It was very...territorial. Todd had done that, too, and she'd hated it. But when Jim did it, hate was the last thing on her mind.

The walk to the transporter station was short, or maybe it was long and she just didn't notice because his arm was around her and he was kissing her. They materialized in Venice and walked for a short bit, then she saw a shadowed alcove and pushed him into it. She felt him press against her, and his lips found hers. They kissed for a long time, gentle turning to not so gentle as water lapped against the canal bank only meters from them.

She had to come up for air, and hugged him, running her hands down his back. "Do you think they'd arrest us if we did it right here?"

"Did what?" He pressed against her again, making it clear that one part of him knew exactly what she was talking about. Nuzzling her neck, he kissed his way to her ear.

She heard music coming from a window somewhere above them, a lone violin playing a sad melody.

He let out a breath, the sound long and satisfied, as if he was letting go of much more than just air. "God, I love it here."

Taking her hand, he pulled her after him, over a bridge, down a shadowed sidewalk along another canal, then over another bridge. They ended up in front of a hotel that looked as if it had been a private palazzo. She thought it probably fronted on the Grand Canal. Jim put his arm around her as he walked with her up the stairs and into the lobby.

"Signore Kirk." An old man at the registration desk clapped his hands. "Anna Luisa, I told you he was coming back."

An old woman peeked out from the door behind the man. "James. You bad, bad boy. Where have you been?"

Jim pointed up.

"You see, Mario. I knew he'd get back up there." She winked at Chapel. "I bet my husband a good deal of money, in fact."

"Your favorite room happens to be free," Mario said, checking his computer. "You do want it?"

"Oh, yes." Jim looked at her. "You'll love it."

"I believe you."

The woman seemed to be assessing Chapel. "Who is your friend, James?"

"An old shipmate."

"Not so old," Mario said, winking at her. He signed them in, then had them run their hands in front of the scanner, keying the room for their palms. He clapped sharply and a bellboy came over with the bags they'd sent earlier that day.

"Enjoy yourselves." Anna Luisa shot them a knowing smile.

"This way," the young man said, heading for a lift set off in a corner of the lobby.

Their room was on the top floor, and the lift covered the three floors slowly, finally opening to a wide hallway, covered in gilt wallpaper. Antique-looking light blue and gold carpets led the way to the end of the hall, where the bellboy threw open the doors, revealing a very large room done in shades of gold and brown. It had floor-to-ceiling windows that did look out on the Canal.

Chapel hurried to take in the view; she heard Jim getting rid of the bellboy, saw his reflection as he turned off the lights and joined her at the window.

"Here," he said, moving her down the wall of windows, to a door she hadn't noticed. It opened onto a miniscule balcony, barely large enough for them both to stand. She stepped out, leaned against the railing as he pressed himself against her and kissed the back of her neck.

Her knees nearly buckled.

"See that place over there?" He pointed across the canal, to a building with a substantially bigger balcony than theirs. "There are two ancient men who live there. They have three white poodles. They like to sit out in the mornings, drinking their coffees, with the poodles yapping their heads off."

She laughed.

"And there"--he pointed to a building next to the first--"that one's pink, even though you can't tell it now. A young woman with long, dark hair lives there, but not all the time. When she's here, she entertains a lot. With the curtains open."

"And you watch?"

"I'm a guy. Of course I watch." He leaned in, gently pulling her back and tilting her face toward him to meet his lips. They kissed for a long time.

"Maybe she's watching us now." Chapel leaned against him with a sigh. "She's never entertained you?"

"Nope. Didn't want to spoil the voyeuristic magic." He laughed softly. "And I don't like the idea of sharing my woman."

"Ah."

"What kind of ah was that?" He pushed her into the railing, trapping her as he ran his hands down the sides of her dress, finding skin through the rather deep slits. "'Ah, you cro-magnon, you'? Or "Ah, I think I like that idea'?"

"The latter." She sighed. "I was sharing Todd at the end. I've heard he never dumps one girlfriend until he's secured the next."

"I've heard that, too. How long ago did you two break up?" He kissed her neck again, running his fingers down her throat to her collarbone, and then down to more interesting places.

She moaned.

"Quite a while?"

"Under a year. Just."

"Mmmm." He didn't let up on his attack on the nerve endings in her neck--nerve endings that seemed to be connected to other parts of her body. If he and the railing hadn't been steadying her, she wasn't sure her legs would have agreed to hold her up.

"How long for you?" she asked, knowing it was not the wisest question. What if he said, "Oh, about twelve hours ago"?

"Not quite as long as you. But not very recently, either," he whispered. "Come on." He pulled her inside and shut the door.

She turned, finding him by feel in the dark. He pulled her dress off, letting it pool around her feet. Her underthings followed. Pushing her back, he left her leaning against the window as he slipped his clothes off.

"I'm mooning the entire canal. You do realize that?" Although she didn't know how much anyone outside could really see--their room was pitch black, only the glow of the slivered moon outside and a thin strip of light from under the door broke the darkness.

He laughed and pulled her to him, then spun them around. "If you're so shy, I'll do it."

She pushed him against the glass, finding the idea that they were exposed and not exposed arousing. "I didn't realize you were such an exhibitionist."

"I'm not. Usually." He spun them around again, pushed her back, and eased her up until she wrapped her legs around him and slid down just enough--their moans were almost in harmony.

"So you've never made love like this in here before?"

"This is my place to regroup, Chris. To figure life out. I come here alone."

"You're not alone now."

"No. I'm not, am I?" He pressed his cheek against hers for a moment, then pulled away. "No more talking."

"Ever?"

"For the next little while."

She could hear the smile in his voice, could imagine how his eyes would be gleaming. His arms supporting her were a mix of sensual delight and utter safety. She shut up and kissed him as he took her hard, up against the window in their dark-as-night room over one of the most famous waterways on Earth.

Todd sure as hell couldn't top that.

----------Clio's Memories----------

Chapel woke to the bright sunshine coming in through the windows. She glanced over at Jim, saw that he was sleeping peacefully. Easing out of bed, she dug her robe out of her bag and slipped it on, then wandered out to the balcony.

Across the water, on the balcony of what she could now tell was a terracotta-colored villa, two old men sat drinking coffee. Two white poodles gamboled around them, yapping their heads off.

"You don't wake the man you spent the night taking advantage of?" Jim's breath was warm on her ear.

"You looked so peaceful. And I didn't go far."

"I know." He wrapped his arms around her, hugged her tight.

"Are you naked back there?"

"I am. So don't move or we'll give the old guard there quite the show." He made a funny sound, sort of a sigh only shorter. Sharper.

"What?"

"They lost one. Of the dogs, I mean. There were three last time."

"I didn't know you were such a fan of dogs."

"I always had a dog growing up. I had one--I left one--with Antonia. A Great Dane. Butler."

She turned carefully, keeping him modest while she maneuvered around to see his face. "I'm sorry."

"They don't live long. Great Danes. I don't even know if he's still..." He shook his head. "I couldn't take him with me. The days of having dogs on a starship are long past."

"Especially one the size of a pony."

"Especially those." He kissed her.

She started thinking about his ship, and what he'd been doing before he got it back. "You left Antonia a while ago, Jim. You were on Earth. Why didn't you take him with you then?" She saw him close his eyes, realized she was straying into deeply personal information, which might not really be meant to follow a night of sex. Great sex. But maybe just sex. "Never mind. I don't need to--"

"She wanted to keep him. 'He was ours,' she said. If I was going to throw away the relationship, then I didn't get to take him."

"But he was yours."

"No. She was right. He was ours." He let go of her--confession time apparently over--and padded toward the hall. "You want coffee?" His voice was breezy--too casual?

"Are you going to make it?"

"No, I'm going to order it."

She realized there was a terminal on the wall by the door. He punched in something that looked like a lot more than a request for just coffee.

As he worked, he said, "Chris, not that I mind strutting around like this, but can you find me my robe? I'm not sure the room service staff is ready to see me in the altogether."

"Their loss, Jim," she said, but she dug around in his bag until she found his robe. Carrying it over to him, she wrapped it around his shoulders, then headed back to take in the view. She found it hard not to glance back, see what he was doing.

Did he want her to go? Should she be feeling quite this...awkward?

"They never take long."

"Good." Her voice squeaked a little.

He shrugged into the robe, walked over to her. "Are we okay, here?"

"Yeah. Fine."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. Then she turned to look at him. "Why did you leave her? You get a look when you talk about her."

"I loved her."

"But you left her. You could have brought her to San Francisco."

He shook his head. "Returning to Starfleet was leaving her, in her book. She wouldn't have come."

"If she said she'd come now, would you want that?"

"She won't say that, Chris. She got married last year. A nice guy. No Jim Kirk, mind you--for which she no doubt profoundly thanks God."

Chapel doubted that--could you ever forget this man once you'd had him? "You never brought her here?"

"No. I came here after we broke up, though." He pulled her close. "Why do you ask that?"

"Because I can't figure out why you brought me here."

He nodded, as if that thought had occurred to him, too. Was he regretting bringing her here?

The chime at their door spared her a painful answer. He held a finger up in what seemed like a "Hold that thought" motion as he walked to the door. Opening it, he held it for a waiter who wheeled in a sizeable cart covered with plates of fruits and pastries and lots of coffee.

She smiled at the spread.

After he signed the padd and showed the man out, Jim turned to her, staring at her from across the room. "We were very busy last night. I thought you might have worked up an appetite." He walked to the cart and pushed it closer to the small table set near the end of the row of windows. "And you ask an interesting question."

Pouring two mugs of coffee, he carried them to where she stood, handing her one and drinking happily from the other.

"I like mine black."

He gave her a stern look. "I know that. But this is caffe latte. The milk is mandatory."

She took a sip. If she ignored the milk, she could tell it was nice, strong coffee underneath. "It's good."

"It is. Now, do you want to know the answer to your question?"

She turned and stared out at the sparkling canal as she sipped her coffee. "I'm not sure."

He moved closer, maneuvered between her and the window, was staring at her. "You think I don't want you here, don't you?"

She took another sip--stalling.

"Chris?"

"I think you're the consummate gentleman, Jim. Who would never, ever, tell a woman to leave and let a good night of sex be just that."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that." He leaned back, his head tilted back against the glass. "I brought you here because it felt right. And it still feels right." He cupped her cheek, and she leaned into his touch. "Don't you think it's odd that we know so much about each other, yet we've never explored this? You've never been interested in me, have you?"

She met his eyes. "Not before Berlin."

"I know. Same here." He smiled, a sweet, soft expression that made her want to kiss him. "Yet I seem to have made a habit of keeping track of you. I came to the ceremony when you made commander."

"I know. I saw you there."

"No, Chris. I came for you. I had other friends in the ranks getting promoted that day, too. But I came to see you get promoted."

"Did you know that then?"

He seemed to think about it. "I did. But it wasn't romantic. I just...care about what happens to you."

"I do understand that. I was really happy for you when you left Starfleet and went to live with Antonia. It seemed like the right thing for you."

"For a while, it was." He sighed, then threw back his coffee. "Do you think something happened when we found Roger? That maybe the experience forged some kind of connection we just take for granted?"

"Maybe." She took another sip.

"Do you think that's why I'm drawn to you now?"

She shrugged. "It's working both ways if it is. I... Last night was..."

"Unforgettable? Earth shattering? Made you forget every other lover you've ever had--especially Cabot?" He was grinning.

"I was going to go with just okay." She felt the last of the awkwardness fall away when he laughed.

"Well, always room for improvement, then." He started to slowly untie her robe. "Finish that coffee."

"What about breakfast?"

"I'm surprised at you. I'd expect an ops woman to have noticed that there is nothing on that cart that will not keep just fine till we're ready to eat it."

She laughed. "So I guess you still want me?"

He used the robe tie to pull her with him, back to the bed. "I want to see if you're as good in the sunlight as you were in the moonlight."

"Moonlight's a lot more flattering," she said as he pushed her robe off her shoulders, taking her in, examining her.

"Sunlight's a lot more real." He pushed her down to the bed. "Get this robe off me, will you?"

She pushed it off him, pulling him down to her. His kisses felt even better in the warm, open sunlight.

"I'm glad you're here," he murmured.

"I thought we were going to explore Venice," she said, as she rolled him off her, then held him down with the judicious application of her hand to one particular part of his anatomy.

He groaned and closed his eyes. "I can think of other things I want to explore more." He pulled her up to sit on top of him, making the connection complete. "Do you have to go back today?"

She looked down at him in surprise.

"I'm on leave until tomorrow afternoon. Stay here another day. Can you?"

She had the next day off. No reason she couldn't stay. "Are you sure?"

"Did I ask or not?"

She smiled and nodded happily, then squealed as he rolled them. He ended up on top, losing the connection but reestablishing it quickly.

"My Chris," he said with a smile that was infinitely tender.

"Yours?" She kissed his neck, working her way to any part of skin she could reach.

"Do you object to that terminology?"

"No. It's just...I didn't expect this."

"I know. Neither did I. What do you say we show what fine officers we are and take advantage of this unexpected windfall?"

She laughed and proceeded to do just that.

----------Baubles from Erato's Grove----------

Chapel watched as Jan and Paul danced their first dance as man and wife. Jan's ivory dress flowed in soft folds down her body, Paul's dark suit providing stark contrast.

"They look right together," Ny said as she sat down next to Chapel.

"They do. And he's a super guy." Chapel had been the one to recruit him into Ops. She'd also been the one to introduce him to her friend. Not that Jan had needed much help after the fi