Tom couldn’t quite hide a smile. "That depends, Captain. What do you think it’s about?"

"These obscure holidays you keep wanting to celebrate."

"Just because I have some pride in our heritage--"

"Just because you want an excuse for a party every few days," she retorted, and sighed. "I suppose you have the whole day all planned out so it’ll be ‘no extra work’."

"Not really," Tom admitted.

Kathryn looked up in surprise, and raised an eyebrow. "Somehow this makes you think I’ll be willing to agree to the third party in two weeks?"

"Not really," Tom said.

Kathryn blinked and blushed slowly. "Oh. So… what did you want, then?"

"I thought maybe you’d like to have dinner with me Tuesday evening," he said with a grin. "Of course, the fact that it happens to be Armistice Day is completely coincidental."

She laughed and nodded. "I’d like that." Tom shot her one last smile and left

=/\=

The meal was replicated, the drink was champagne, the cutlery silver. About the only thing missing to make this a date were the candles, but Tom seemed not to notice the setting so Kathryn had ignored it, too.

He’d kept her laughing all evening, taking a wicked delight in catching her up on the gossip a captain usually never got to her. Some things *everyone* knew, even her, like Harry fumbling around Seven and not noticing the looks B’Elanna was shooting his way, and B’Elanna oblivious to what probably passed for similar looks on Vulcan that Tuvok gave her from time to time.

Some things she’d had no idea about, like the Delaney sisters locking poor Freddie Bristow in the holodeck without any clothes and the replicator’s hidden. Kathryn had thought everyone seemed a little too amused that week.

But before she knew it, it was twenty-three hundred, and she had morning shift the next day. "Damn," she sighed, "I should probably go. Thanks again, Tom; this was…" she gestured vaguely at the remains of their dinner, "wonderful."

Tom smiled and rose to escort her to the door. "Well, Armistice Day is supposed to commemorate the signing of the treaty after World War One - the first step towards a new kind of relationship." He shook his head as she shot him a wary look. "Just the first step. Did you know," he added, warming to his topic, "that the eleventh of November is also the day the Berlin Wall first began to come down?"

Despite his analogy of the treaty-signing, he seemed not to notice the significance of barriers beginning to drop, but Kathryn didn’t bother to point it out to him. She really did have to go, and now wouldn’t have been the time for a historical debate anyway.

"Tom," she interrupted quietly.

"…Or was it the eighties?" He looked thoughtful for a moment

"Tom," she repeated, and lifted her hand to his mouth. He stopped in surprise and looked down at her, while she tried to remember what she’d wanted to say in the first place, feeling his lips move ever so slightly under her fingertips with the movements of his breathing.

Hell. She tore herself away at the last moment and kept her gaze averted. "It’s getting late… I should go…"

"Yeah," Tom agreed. She looked up again and quavered at the look on his voice, watching her. He must have sensed her hesitation, because he took her arm and led her out into the corridor. "Goodnight, Captain," he said with a faint smile.

She nodded, wanting nothing more than to melt into his embrace, but held back by his words. Which, undoubtedly, he’d done on purpose. "Thank you, Tom. Goodnight," she added, still not moving.

Tom hesitated for a moment, leaning forward so slightly she wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been looking for it, then looked away. "Well," he said awkwardly. "Goodnight."

She smiled despite herself. "You’ve already said that."

"Have I? Oh, yeah, I did." He let go of her arm, suddenly, as he became aware that he was still holding it. There was a pause, and she almost leaned towards him despite herself, but he pulled himself away abrubtly and walked into his quarters.

Kathryn stood in the corridor for a moment longer, remembering the feel of his body so close to hers, the light touch of his breath on her face, the look in his eyes… "Oh, stop it," she muttered to herself. She glanced at his door, took a breath, and rang the chime.

It opened almost instantly, Tom looking down at her in surprise. She smiled sweetly.

"Just thought I’d remind you; no more parties until next year, at least. And I mean it this time."

Tom laughed and nodded, shifting his hand slightly as if she could make out the Thanksgiving plans on the padd he held. "Understood, Captain."

"Good." She smiled warmly at him. "Goodnight, Tom."

"‘Night."