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  J/C and anyone else in Starfleet belong to Paramount. The other guys are my idea ...

I lean back in the chaise lounge and take a deep breath, trying to will the knots out of my shoulders.

The Rentairi have a reputation for getting exactly what they want during treaty negotiations. Unfortunately, what they want from the Federation is advanced weaponry. And while the president is eager to have this treaty, he's made it clear that he'll hold the Federation line.

 

So, we are stuck. And tomorrow is the final day of negotiations.

As I debate my approach for tomorrow's session, I'm interrupted again by the arrival of Lanal, the assistant assigned to me. He sets a glass of something iced on the side table.

"What's this?" I ask

"A special drink," he says, giving me a blinding smile. "Please try. It is .. fruity."

I'm not sure about a fruit that would have that nasty blue tinge. "Perhaps later," I tell him, as I return my attention to my PADD.

Lanal putters about the lanai, straightening pool towels and the like. To be honest, he is easy on the eyes; dark hair, sleek build. Reminds me a bit of a cat. And he's attentive. Too attentive for my taste, even considering the cultural differences.

He's back. "Perhaps the admiral would like a massage? I can arrange," he asks, hopefully.

I bite back my annoyance. "No." I say firmly.

His reply is drowned out by the unmistakable whine of a transporter. In the next instant, Chakotay materializes. The rascal is wearing those dark brown pants that oh-so-nicely hug his backside. His beat-up travel bag is slung over his shoulder, and he has a large bottle in hand.

I happily climb out of the chaise. "There you are! How was the trip?"

"Not bad," Chakotay replies as he nods to Lanal, who's frozen in place, gaping at him.

"Is that my ale?" I tease as I nod toward the bottle.

"It is, and you wouldn't believe what I had to do to get it," he teases back with that dimpled grin.

"Well, let's put it in the chiller then," I say, motioning toward the door.

Lanal snaps into action, springing in front of us. "I can chill this for you, Admiral." Perhaps he's just not used to transporters, but this fellow is suddenly a bundle of nerves.

"We're fine, Lanal. You can go," I order, not bothering to be polite.

He decides to admit defeat. "Of course," he says, with a small bow. "Will you be ordering in?"

"No," I reply as I practically push him out the door and quickly engage the travel lock.

"Who is that?" Chakotay asks as he closes the door on the chiller.

"My babysitter. And a damned annoying one," I say as I wind my arms around his neck. "I have missed you," I murmur before his mouth closes over mine in a long, lingering kiss.

"Been thinking about you all day," he whispers when we come up for air.

"Salacious thoughts, I hope."

"You can't imagine."

"Bet you can demonstrate," I whisper as I pull him toward the bedroom.

 

***

"I'm sorry, Admiral," Minister Tokk intoned. "I'm not sure we can resolve this."

"You're right, Minister," I say. I hate to fail at anything, but these folks weren't going to budge. And I have nothing left that would appease them.

"Why don't we take a break? When we come back, we can sign the collorary agreements, " he suggests.

Fifteen minutes, I tell my aides. That should give me time to send a quick message to Chakotay, who's waiting for me on the Saratoga. But Tokk interrupts me. "Admiral? A word?"

I walk back into the room, and suddenly, perceptively, the mood changes. Tokk's aide is smirking, and the minister is wearing a feral grin. I'm not sure how, but things have suddenly gone very bad ....

"I have something that might help you to change your superior's minds about the treaty, he said, smoothly.

"And what would that be?" I ask, sliding my hand into my pocket and palming the small phaser there.

Tokk nods at his aide, who slips a data chip in a viewer. The image is somewhat dark and grainy. It appears to be a couple moving in a sexual embrace. Then I realize: That's me. Me and Chakotay during last night's lovemaking. On the chaise lounge, no less.

For a moment, I'm stunned. Then again, I shouldn't be. My early briefings alluded to the fact that the Rentairi don't necessarily adhere to Federation standards of ethics or privacy. That's why I went on a daily bug hunt at my lodgings. Obviously, I missed one.

"What is the meaning of this?" I demand coldly. "How dare you."

"Surely, Admiral," Tokk said in his oily voice. "You wouldn't want your husband, or your superiors to see your dalliance."

Things suddenly became very clear. This was how the Rentairi got what they wanted. Lanal's job wasn’t to babysit me. It was to seduce me. Then I remember that unnaturally blue drink: Maybe they had something worse in mind. But the game plan's the same: record the negotiator in a compromising position and use it for blackmail.

Fortunately for me, they slipped up ....

 

"And just why shouldn't my husband see this?" I ask smoothly.

It wasn't the answer Tokk expected, but he recovered quickly. "I understand your culture is monogamous. I doubt he would be pleased to share."

"Humph," I reply. "Some are, some aren't. But you'd better take another look at that recording, Tokk. That fellow I'm dallying with happens to be my husband."

The aide's eyes widen in shock, and he quickly turns to look at the video. He looks back at Tokk, who's a few shades paler now, and whispers, "It's not Lanal."

Tokk opens his mouth, but I'm not finished. "Guess Lanal didn't bother to mention that I had company last night," I say, though I suspect my intended seducer will pay dearly.

I cross my arms and glare at the two officials. "Sorry to disappoint, but there's nothing improper going on there. And I doubt my superiors would care." Though I certainly hope none of them would want to watch ....

Tokk finally found his voice. "It's seems there's been a mistake ..."

"Oh, you're damn right there's been a mistake," I growl. "And you're right about something else," I continue, lowering my voice another octave. "My husband will not be pleased. You intruded on a very private moment, and his culture takes that as a grave insult. Perhaps I should call him down here to avenge our honor."

I take a step toward him, careful to keep the table between us. "And after he's finished with you, I'll tell my superiors all about your despicable methods. I suspect you'll have a tough time negotiating with anyone, anywhere, after that."

Tokk's face is white; perhaps he's has had some run-ins with angry husbands. Or maybe my threat to blow the whistle has unnerved him. I slip my hand back into my pocket and palm the phaser.

"Admiral," he says, trying to sound conciliatory. "This has all been just a misunderstanding. I'm sure there's something we can do to .. how do you say, patch things ups?"

"Oh, I'm sure there are," I say, giving him back his feral grin. "And we can start with you handing over that data chip. And all the copies ...."

***

"Kathryn, you're a miracle worker," Admiral Ross crowed as he waved a PADD toward the vid screen. "We only asked them for a 10-year treaty. How in hell did you get them to agree to 20 years, and throw in the schematics for their spy satellites without giving them our technology in return?"

I sit back in my chair. "Oh, a little defensive diplomacy, Bill. I'll send my report along later."

 

Bill shakes his head. "Well, the president will certainly be pleased. And I look forward to your report."

After I sign off, I sit back again and sip my coffee. Ah, yes, that report. I shall have to word things rather carefully, but I will mention the Rentairi's penchant for bugging their guest rooms. And I'll write a separate, more explicit warning to be delivered to the Starfleet captain who'll deliver the satellite, with a copy to the president.

I pull the handful of data chips from my pocket and smile. Wonder if Chakotay would be interested in a little show? Nah, I decide as I walk over to the recycler. Some things are better experienced live.

I throw in the chips, one by one. But when it comes to the last one .. .

I slip it back in my pocket. If he's not interested, there's always my private viewer.

 

 

-fin-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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