****************************************************

Disclaimer time once again!   Seventy-ninth verse same as 
the first . .everybody *sing*:

I don't own these characters, (chorus) Paramount does!
I don't own this venue, (chorus) Paramount does!
I am making no money off of this, (chorus) Paramount does 
not either!

This story will eventually involve love and sex and affection 
between two men, aka: slash.  If that is *not* your cup of 
tea, sweet as it is, then don't read it! (simple, ain't it??) 
Feedback is *very* much appreciated, and always
answered.  Flames will be passed around to friends and 
chuckled over.  :)

Twenty-sixth story in the Stage Direction series.  Sequel to 
'Ssst', 'Growl', 'Chuckle', 'Sob', 'Grin', 'Sigh', 'Smile', 'Yawn', 
'Whisper', 'Groan', 'Hover', 'Waffle', 'Comfort', 'Fidget', 
'Grimace', 'Sizzle', 'Glare', 'Shrug', 'Doze', 'Snort', 'Whack', 
'Stretch', 'Snicker', 'Pace', and 'Hug'.

'Clink' by Amirin <groh@iquest.net>


****************************************************


The laughter fades, but the smiles remain.  I reach out to 
touch his face and find him in my arms, his 'thank you' 
whispered and sincere.

<softly>  "You're welcome, Neelix."

<warmly>  "Quite a pair, we are."

<whisper with a smile>  "I couldn't agree, more." 

<clear throat>  <ease away>  "If I remember correctly, you 
still haven't eaten dinner, yet."

<snort>  "True.  Shall we?"

He takes my hand to lead me out of my quarters and I let 
him keep it.  We walk slowly down the corridor in silence 
and it doesn't occur to me until the fourth set of popping 
eyeballs, how this looks.  I don't give a damn.  It amuses the 
hell out of me and my smile seems to set off Neelix's and I 
wouldn't change a thing about this on orders from the 
*Captain*.

<grin>

A faint squeeze of my hand brings my eyes off the floor and 
a smile reassures him. Our entering the 'lift barely registers 
and my softly spoken order sounds too loud for the quiet 
surrounding us.  I meet his eyes and they're crinkled by his 
smile as he strokes my hand.  No more than he's done a 
dozen other times in the last couple of days, yet the sense 
of *something* more happening here is palpable and I'd be 
willing to bet that he feels it, too.

<sigh>

I can't ignore the signs from Kes.  And I wouldn't want to.  All 
our talks about friendship, and how awful it would be for 
someone to be alone so far from home, and there I was, 
egotistical enough to think she was talking about me. Well, 
she *was*, but not *just* me. Him, too.

<whoosh>  <exit>

My name, on her gift.  And its counterpart waiting for me in 
the replicator, like she knew what Neelix's next step would 
be, which she probably did.

<silent snort>

If it were *anyone* but Kes, I'd be feeling slightly resentful 
and a little manipulated, right now.  But, I don't.  I feel . . . 
expectant.  A little hesitant.  A lot nervous.  More than a lot 
curious.  She *knew* things.  About so many people.  And 
was right on the latinum, ninety-nine percent of the time.  I'd 
trust her judgement any day.  I trust her on this.

I set up New Orleans to run at night and Neelix's warm smile 
washes right through me and he nods.  I wonder if his 
thoughts have been paralleling my own.  It wouldn't surprise 
me a damned bit.

There's a wonderful old townhouse in a quiet neighborhood 
with an incredible view that serves legendary Cajun and 
Creole food and I head for it, Neelix letting me take the lead, 
here. Old-fashioned gaslights illuminate the front walk and 
the steps and the flickering light looks amazing over his 
jacket as we head into the house. I request a table near the 
fireplace and we're shown to one of the smaller dining areas. 
No one else is in here, normal dinner hour is long past.  The 
windows are enormous and the street outside is vacant and 
silent, the music soft and beautiful.  Perfect.

<content sigh>  <smile>

<quietly>  "I'm embarrassed that Kes and I didn't realize this 
wasn't a residence."

<grin>  "It's understandable, Neelix.  It doesn't look like a 
restaurant from the street."

"It's lovely."

<nod>  "Yes, it is.  And the food is outstanding."

The waiter arrives and takes our orders with a softly- 
accented smile and heads away after filling our glasses with 
wine and bringing more, filled with water.  My grin meets 
Neelix's.

"I see you found out about the wine."

<snort>  "Kes and I *both* did.  I was astonished.  They put 
it in *everything* and you don't realize it, most of the time."

"Sorry.  I didn't think to add a warning."

"Don't be silly, Tom.  It was wonderful."  <grin>  "When the 
headaches and queasiness finally went away."

<grimace>  "I guess I'm used to it.  But, even *I* request the 
omelettes to be made without wine.  First thing in the 
morning is too much."

<smile>  "Agreed.  But, they're so *good*.  Wine just does 
something to onions and mushrooms."

"True."

<thoughtfully>  "I wonder if it would help my leola root 
omelettes."

<smothered choke>  "Maybe worth a try.  A little more 
cheese, some sausage.  Could work."

His grin meets mine and we both laugh.  The tension is still 
present, but slight.  Very slight. The look in his eyes 
changes.  Gods, they're almost the same color as the 
chardonnay.  

<warm smile>  <warmer eyes>  "A toast."

I lift my glass, wondering what's on his mind.

<whisper>  "To Kes.  And to friendship."

<shaky sigh>  "To Kes.  And to friendship."

<clink>


************************end