Disclaimer: Voyager and her characters aren't mine... be thankful. 

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"What are you doing here?" The words were startling, spoken in a harsh and accusing whisper. 

"I came to see you." Words angrily defensive, but suddenly gentle, "I needed to see you." 

"I told you that we couldn't do this anymore. Not here, not like this." 

"Why not?" Eyes suddenly moist tried to find solace in that of their partner's, but they turned away almost ashamed. 

"I've told you why." 

"Please look at me," an earnest plea but it was met and he pressed on. "Is it because of Starfleet regulations? I mean, they don't really apply to me. I was Maquis after all. My position is merely provisionary. And you… the rules never really did apply to you." 

"It's not that and you know it." 

"Please, tell me. You're going to make me all blue in the face." He deadpanned only to lose it a second later and they both found themselves in hysterics, only interrupted by the faint hiss of the messhall doors closing as the last of the dinner crowd cleared. 

They regained their composure. 

"We just can't do this here... there's too much at stake. You’re an awfully vocal and aggressive lover and there's just too many precious food stocks in this kitchen that we just can't bear to lose. Remember last time, when we knocked over that whole container of leola root? How devastated the commander was that he practically ran right out of the kitchen?" 


"That's why. For the sake of leola root, not here." 

"Your quarters then?" 

"I'm done, let's go."
The End



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