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Chapter Notes:

On January 11, 2162, Treve and Pamela talk about their expectations for a relationship.


 

“Now that was an amazing party,” Treve said. He was a Calafan, bald, with solid silver arms – in his very early twenties.

“Yes! It was great!” enthused Doctor Pamela Hudson, the knockout he’d met there, not four hours previously. She was blonde and curvy and easily a good seventeen or so years older than him, but that part did not matter one whit. “So, whaddaya wanna do?” she emphasized her words in such a way that it felt, to Treve, like there were hidden meanings there.

He swallowed hard. She was a beautiful woman – and not just for a human – and the effect was much as what it would have been if he were human or she were a Calafan. “I should take you back to your uncle’s.” They were right in front of his car, a late 2161 model.

“We could make a night of it,” she said, looking him up and down. She came closer.

He fumbled with the car door. “I, uh, your uncle’s?”

“Uncle Cyril will be home. How ‘bout your place?”

“My mother and sister are in. You met them today, as well. My brother is at school.”

“Oh, well, then, a hotel?”

“Pamela, we’ve only just met.”

“So?”

“So I, well, this is making me rather uncomfortable.”

“Huh,” she said, getting into the car and smoothing her skirt. He shut the door and got in on the other side. “Treve?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t you, well, don’t you, you know, wanna?”

Trembling a little, he looked at this woman he had only met a few hours before, a friend of Doug and Lili Beckett, an ex-girlfriend of Malcolm Reed. The party they’d just attended had been a second birthday party for Doug and Lili’s daughter, Marie Patrice. Plus it had been to meet Declan, Lili and Malcolm’s newborn son. Tripp Tucker had died recently – the party was a gentle comfort for Malcolm and even for Captain Jonathan Archer, who had stayed briefly after dropping Malcolm off to begin his paternity leave.

“I, it is, please understand,” Treve said. He touched her hand lightly, and the contact felt electric. “I do. I wish to, very, very much.”

“Then why don’t you do anything? Every guy I’ve ever known, since I was fifteen, we’d end our first date in the sack.”

“I want to; I want to know you first. Can I, can I know you first? Will you have the patience for, for that?”

Pamela nodded slowly, realizing that, with this alien man, she had finally met the one who would be different. In short, she had met the one.

 



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