They met secretly that night, afraid of discovery. Uniforms were discarded. The chain of command was left behind. Shedding the weight of command and duty, they reveled in each others company. They stood before the other, a man and a woman.

It started off innocently but soon evolved into a heated exchange. He touched. She returned. The silent language of move and countermove spoke without words. They reached and made contact in an elegant dance of abandonment.

He took a sharp breath of anticipation and lunged.

And missed.

"Set and Match. Torres," the computer announced.

Chakotay groaned.

"Gotcha, Old Man."