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Once Enterprise is underway after a few days of shore leave on Siriani 3, Chris invites Una to his quarters for an informal check-in, accompanied by glasses of Nigellian whiskey. He pours, and they both take a seat on the couch. "How were things up here?" he asks.
Una smiles and sips her whiskey. "Sensors are freshly recalibrated, escape pods have all had their quarterly inspection, and the nacelles are gleaming."
Chris smirks. "Nothing less than I expected, Number One. And I know you enjoyed checking every one of them off the maintenance list."
"Yes, I did." Much better than shore leave, in her opinion. "How were the Shaleena Falls?"
He shrugs. "Fine."
She raises an eyebrow. "'Fine'? I distinctly remember you practically begging me to go with you when we came here on the Antares. You talked them up so much, they had to be better than 'fine.'"
He shrugs again. "Does 'nice' meet with your approval?"
She rolls her eyes and leans toward the table to pour a bit more into her glass. "I always wondered about that. You mentioned them in every conversation we had for days, then when we made orbit you didn't even go. Why..." She pauses as she catches sight of Chris staring at her, a strange expression on his face.
"Una," he says in a strangled voice. "I was trying to ask you out."
She nearly drops her glass. No. No, surely not. She cannot have been that oblivious. But Chris is still talking, and it doesn't sound like he's messing with her.
"I assumed you were letting me down easy by just pretending it wasn't what it was."
Very rarely does she have no clue how to react to something. But this is one of those times. Chris is silent too, just watching her, and she wonders if he's also thinking about how different the last twenty years might have been if she'd understood. Because even though she'd promised herself that no one would ever get close enough to know her true heritage, even then—she might still have said yes.
"I had no idea," she finally says, almost a whisper. She sets the glass on the table.
She knows what he's going to do almost before he does it; he's Chris, and he's always been so easy to read. Still, she holds her breath as he leans forward, giving her plenty of time to object if she wants.
The kiss, when it happens, is not electric or explosive or any of those sparking, sparkling words. It is, however, soft and sweet and somehow, even though they've never done this before, familiar.
They part quickly, still unsure of themselves. But Chris is practically glowing with happiness, and Una thinks she might be too. They have moved quite a bit closer to each other.
He slips his hand around hers. "Will you come over for dinner tomorrow?" Before she can answer, he smiles. "To be clear, I'm asking you on a date."
She laughs, and so does he. "Yes," she says. "I'd like that."