Lt. Cmdr Robin Hopper: Privacy Schmivacy
Robin Hopper
((Glommer & Beagle, Grand Mezzanine – Amity Outpost))
Robin sighed as they made their way back towards the front of the bar and towards the exit. Two locations down and a quickly dwindling list of places left they might go to do anything other than discuss vehicle replicators.
First, Three Stripes had been packed with celebrating Starfleet Officers – who definitely would have recognized the members of Amity’s senior staff. Then, the much quieter G&B had still failed them as a hiding place – a nosy reporter making their business his business.
Hopper: ::Quietly, to Nathan:: I’m so sorry. I spoke to that man at the party. I thought he was in a costume. I didn’t realize he was actually a reporter. He must have seen the two of us leave together and, well, you know how reporters are… I think. Maybe you don’t. Maybe I don’t.
She looked up at Nathan with a furrowed brow.
Hopper: I just don’t want him jumping to conclusions, putting something in an article, you know…
Richards: ::He nodded, smiling:: I get it. That’s definitely not how we want us getting out.
He smirked, and she felt her face flush a little at his use of the word “us”. What exactly they were wasn’t entirely clear – and that was probably for the best at the present – but the excitement of what could be, and the quick gentle touch of his hand on hers, still filled her stomach with butterflies.
As they passed through the front door back into the open Mezzanine, Nate quickly returned his hand to his pocket, and Robin crossed her arms.
Hopper: I knew you’d understand… So… Merchant’s district? There’s a Klingon Bar down there that only the bravest Starfleet Officers frequent.
She watched as he mulled it over. The last time they had been to the Terrible Targ had been near the end of their rather long – and very inebriated – pub crawl earlier that year with Ikaia, Bec, and S’Raga… Robin tried to remember if they had run into any other officers there, but the truth was she could barely remember that part of the evening at all.
Richards: You know what, why not. Let’s give it a go.
((Not Long After, Terrible Targ, Merchant District))
The typically-swift train ride from the Mezzanine to the Habitat Ring’s Merchant District had seemed like an eternity to Robin. Standing together on the train making idle work-appropriate chatter felt exhausting. It was hard to conceive of the fact that this was only their first date since agreeing to start things over between the two of them and explore their feelings more openly again. She just hoped that keeping things discreet would get easier with time and practice, and not harder.
But the journey seemed to have paid off. They’d reached the Targ unbothered by anyone familiar, and after poking their heads in, found it suitably devoid of any uniforms. Making their way to a small open two-seater table, sequestering themselves near a dark corner, Robin finally felt as though they might get a bit of peace. Ironic, given the boisterous and chaotic nature of the bar around them.
Nathan drummed his fingers on the table between them, looking around the place.
Richards: I have to admit, it is very… niche.
Robin moved her seat forward an inch or two, adjusted her skirt, and clasped her hands on top of the table in front of her.
Hopper: Niche is good. We like niche. ::Smiling:: Niche means fewer prying eyes – or at least, eyes that matter. ::Glancing around the bar:: I don’t really care if a few drunken Klingon traders catch us… oO Catch us doing what, Robin? Oo …together.
She cleared her throat.
Hopper: So… You were saying something about “Blackwood Industries?”
Richards: I think I’m done talking shop. ::Holding out his hand:: We can worry about it later.
Robin looked down at Nate’s extended hand, then glanced back up at him.
Hopper: ::Mocking:: Lieutenant Richards, did you lure me down here under the pretense of work just to.. ::holding her hand to her mouth in faux shock:: ..flirt with me? I’m shocked.
Richards: Come on. ::Smirking:: No one here is going to out us, or even say anything, I’m sure.
Tentatively, she reached out and took his hand in hers, feeling his thumb rubbing tenderly over her knuckles and the back of her hand. It felt like they were breaking the rules, somehow. Every little touch set her heart racing, as if someone were keeping tabs secretly, waiting to leap out when things had finally crossed the line of no return… when they could never be “just friends” again.
But his hand was warm, and strong, and safe – and suddenly she didn’t feel like making fun anymore. She bit the inside of her cheek to center herself, then looked up at him, settling her blue eyes on his gray.
Hopper: Yeah… It’s actually nice here. In a weird sort of way.
Richards: I’m glad we can finally –
Suddenly a large shape loomed up behind Nathan, and Robin sat back, stiff as a board, pulling her hand away. A gruff voice cut his sentence short.
T’Nik: Nathan!
She looked up as the tattoo’d Tellarite stepped into the light, a boisterous (and drunk) grin on his face. oO This guy knows him? Nathan, what have you been up to? Oo
T’Nik: I’m still waiting for you to come by so we can finish your… ::Seeing Robin:: Oh, Hello there. Am I interrupting something?
Nathan, head hanging in disappointment, raised his gaze and turned to face the man, running his hand through his hair.
Richards: I mean, a little…
T’Nik: Good!
The Tellarite roared with laughter as he took a seat next to them. Robin tried to hide her annoyance, but was pretty sure anyone with eyes could see she was displeased. Then again, the man was so drunk that perhaps he genuinely couldn’t read the situation… It was that or the famed Tellarite charm she’d heard so much about from her sister (currently studying politics on Tellar Prime).
T’Nik: ::To Robin, holding out his hand:: Ginnin T’Nik. Artist of the best tattoos in the Delta Quadrant!
Hopper: You’re a tattoo artist? ::Looking to Nathan quizzically:: Are you getting a–
Richards: Ginnin, now really isn’t a good –
T’Nik: Nonsense! If you are down here in the Merchant District, It’s obviously a good time!
The Tellarite roared with laughter again. Nathan looked to Robin apologetically. She just rolled her eyes, shrugged, and leaned back in her chair, shaking her head while she crossed her arms. Two seconds. They’d managed to connect, genuinely, for all of two seconds before someone had managed to find them and ruin the moment… again.
Richards: ::Mouthing:: I’m sorry.
She was beginning to wonder if this was all some sort of omen. Then again – nothing good was ever easy. If you wanted something, you’d work for it. Manifest it through your efforts. Sighing, she shrugged… oO Time to manifest… Oo
Hopper: ::Turning on the charm:: So, Mr. T’Nik, was it? How do you know Nathan?
T’Nik: Response
Nodding, she turned to Nathan, raising her eyebrows.
Hopper: Oh, is that right? You didn’t tell me you were getting a tattoo… Just how big are we talking? ::Squinting:: And where are you hiding it?
Richards/T’Nik: Response
As annoying as it was to be interrupted, this sudden revelation was genuinely intriguing. And watching Nathan squirm just a little was fun. It was cute that he felt embarrassed about it. All the same, she decided to put him at ease a little.
Hopper: Oh, come on, you know that sort of thing doesn’t bother me. I mean, that’d be hypocritical of me, don’t you think?
Richards/T’Nik: Response
She nodded. It was nothing to write home about – just a small theta symbol to remind her of home…
Hopper: Between my shoulder blades. ::To Nathan:: You’ve seen it.
Richards: Response
Hopper: The Pub Crawl, earlier this year. We went to the poolside bar at the hotel. In the jacuzzi. ::Turning around in her chair, as if that would make it clearer:: I’m sure it would have been visible in my swimsuit…
Richards: Response
She wasn’t sure whether to feel annoyed or flattered.
Hopper: Well, where were you looking?
Richards/T’Nik: Response
TBC
