By chance

Posted on Sun Aug 17th, 2025 @ 9:27pm by Lieutenant JG Wintrow Paragon & Lieutenant Alvy Vithu

3,231 words; about a 16 minute read

Mission: R&R
Location: Officers' Mess Hallway

"Alvy wait!" Wintrow turned as the ship's security passed him without apparently recognizing him or even saying hello. He'd been about to enter the mess when she had come out. "What's the rush?"

Alvy was deep in thought about her encounter with the propulsion specialist, when she heard her name being called out. Stopping to turn around and find the source of the call, she recognised the young pilot she had boarded the ship with. "Oh, Leftenent Paragon, was it? Good to see you again. I was just on my way to go and introduce myself to the Captain. I take it you're headed for the mess hall?"

"Wintrow, or Win," he corrected her, "and yes I was though I could accompany you to the captain. Assuming he's not enjoying some leisure time of course. Didn't commander Mercy tell us to settle in first?"

The security chief nodded. "Wintrow, of course. At least when we're not on duty, anyway." She pondered for a moment. "I mean, it has been a few hours now. I've unpacked, had some tea with a propulsion specialist and her kids." She suddenly realised she had never caught the woman's name. "So unless you can suggest somewhere other than the mess hall to go, I was going to see if the Captain is in."

"We could find somewhere on the station. I mean I stowed my stuff away, I don't own much anyway and I seem to have been given my old small room again. It really is no more than a broom cabinet I guess..." He chuckled. "No really, it's small but big enough for just me." He shrugged. "Let's go see the captain then."

Alvy echoed Wintrow's shrug. "I mean, no rush, is there? If you think he might not even be there, anyway. We could pop over to the station, I suppose. Haven't been to Quark's in a very long time."

"I'm actually not sure I've ever been there. But if it's food we want, there's this little Bajoran place that serves an amazing hasperat." Wintrow spontaneously booked his arm through hers, not even realising he was doing it as he dragged her along. "Let's go then. Oh...they serve human food too if that is your preference."

"Wait, wait," Alvy exclaimed, yanking her arm free. "If we're going on to DS9, I better pop to my quarters and get my purse. I don't have any latinum on me. Meet me at the airlock to the station in ten minutes?"

The Betazoid blinked. "Surely, Starfleet credits are good enough? It's just a thumb print right?" He seemed startled as she pulled away. "Sure...ten minutes. "

---

Ten minutes later, Alvy stood beside the airlock, waiting for Wintrow to join her. She had put on her black leather trenchcoat, as well as a pair of matching fingerless gloves. The small, well-worn messenger bag made from brown leather that she had slung over her shoulder and a pair of silver, circular eyeglasses completed the old-fashioned look, only disrupted by the brand new Starfleet uniform with its gold-coloured trim underneath the coat.

When she spotted Wintrow approaching down the corridor, she waved. "There you are, finally. Was worried you'd gotten lost." She chuckled. "And here I thought you were the one familiar with this ship already!"

"Not lost, I just wanted to make sure my stuff was moved to my quarters." He indicated the case he was carrying across his back. "And I wanted my guitar... If we find somewhere quiet after lunch I want to be able to play. Just strumming along a train of thought can be very calming."

Alvy laughed. "Good point. You're making me wish I grabbed my violin. Music has a unique way of soothing the soul. But, I think we have wasted enough time now. Where's that Bajoran place you mentioned?"

"If you want to go get it I'll wait," Wintrow offered before nodding ahead. "It's just over there, it's not very large but you'll see the ambience is very different from Quark's. I don't really like Quark's, it just seems to encourage you to consume the strangest drinks. I'm not comfortable with that."

Alvy chuckled. "Quarks can be fun, in the right company. But I get it. I'm not too bothered about the violin, let's just go. I could do with a bite to eat."

"As you wish," Wintrow smiled as he led her to their destination. "Table for two," he requested as they walked in and a waiter showed them to a small table to the side. The restaurant somewhat held the vibe of being in a temple. The lighting was low and warm, but there was no darkness and a soft music was playing. Setting his guitar down, he moved to hold back a chair, before Alvy could even reach to pull it back herself.

"What a gentleman, someone was raised right," Alvy joked as she sat down and looked around. "Nice decor, definitely Bajoran. Looks like a place to take someone on a date, really."

"My father did, before he passed away," Wintrow confirmed as he took his own seat. "He always told me to treat a lady with respect and with that come some traditions." He paused at the comment of a date, almost reassuring her that this definitely wasn't a date. However, he chose to merely smile and say nothing instead. "It is oddly calming, I quite like it here. I've visited this place many times."

Alvy nodded. "My stepfather is very much grounded in tradition. He's a proper, old-fashioned Scotsman. Even plays the bagpipes, would you believe it." She chuckled. "Not that the neighbours are very happy about that. He's the reason I wanted to go into law enforcement, he's a retired detective in the Scottish police himself. Of course, it turned out that it wasn't really for me, being grounded my whole life. I guess it's because I was born in space."

The Lieutenant shook her head. "Anyway, I'm rambling. Does this place have a menu?"

"Over there," Wintrow pointed at the small sheet the waiter had put in front of them just as they were getting seated. "The food is a little spicy but it can be toned down if that's your preference. I tend to request a reduction in the hot spices as I can't really handle them well and I don't want to get sick while on leave." He smiled ruefully. "They actually do have Human food, but with a Bajoran twist, as in the distance is made with Bajoran produce."

Alvy chuckled as she grabbed a menu. "Poor showing, Lieutenant Paragon, revealing such a crucial weakness this early!" She studied the menu for a moment, before nodding and waving the waiter over again. "I will have a large Jumja tea and the hottest variety of Hasperat you serve, please."

"What weakness?" The young pilot smiled awkwardly. "And it's Wintrow, or Win. I'm not on duty. I'll have the same but hold off on the spices." He slid the menu aside. "So... you play violin?"

Once the waiter had taken the order and left, Alvy burst out laughing. "Sorry, Wintrow, you are too easy. Just poking a little bit of fun, that's all. And yeah, I do. My stepdad wanted me to learn the cornet, he plays in a brass band in Edinburgh, but I never really took to it. Then I saw a busker on Princes' Street with a violin, and thought 'hey, that might be for me'. Been playing since I was nine."

"I've played guitar for as long as I remember," Wintrow mused, "I find it oddly calming to just strum away when I feel stressed. I learned to play the piano properly after I inherited a grand piano which obviously doesn't fit in my quarters until I reach commander or first officer." He grinned sheepishly. "I have it safely stored somewhere, but I do keep up practice on the holodeck."

He reached for the case and retrieved his precious instrument, running the fingers of his left hand softly along the strings, playing a few random chords to check the tuning. I was aware of people looking their way but he refused to let that deter him.

Alvy smiled as Wintrow tuned the guitar. It was clear that he was more passionate about music than he said. "That is a beautiful instrument you have there. It certainly doesn't look replicated." She noticed the waiter approaching with their teas and their Hasperat. "Maybe you should put it away again for the moment, though. Looks like our order is coming up."

"It certainly isn't replicated, and I've had it a very long time. It was a gift from my father when I was about ten years old. Together with my boat it's all I have left from him." He carefully put the instrument aside as their order came up. "I should probably tell you this restaurant doesn't replicate dishes, only the ingredients."

Alvy thanked the waiter, and took a sip from her tea. "I should hope so, I mean if I wanted replicated food I could just go to the Replimat." She smiled. "The violin I have with me on the ship is a replicator copy of the one I have back home on Earth. I didn't want to risk bringing it and potentially losing it. I am glad I made that choice, else I wouldn't have it anymore. My previous ship was destroyed in the Dominion War, at Chin'toka two."

"If it's a valuable instrument you did the smart thing. Mine is mostly emotional value." He took sipped the tea. "Why did you take up the violin?"

"Like I said, my dad wanted me to take up brass, I didn't like it. Tried the violin, loved it. It's really simple as that." Alvy shrugged and took a bite of the food. "Oh, this has some nice spark to it. You chose a good place."

"Of course," Wintrow grinned at her, "I do appreciate good food. So....why do you hide your heritage? You don't have to answer, obviously, but it helps to understand why." He chuckled. "Not like I can, even if I tried....one look at me and it's obvious even though I didn't know it myself until my first physical on a starship."

Alvy was set aback for a moment. How would he know about her heritage? After a second, she realised that he was referring to her pointed ears, and the - somewhat correct - assumption that she was half Vulcan. She sighed. "It's not something I like to talk about, really. I've had issues, going to a pretty much completely human school as a kid. Let's leave it at that."

"Of course. Perhaps one day you will trust me with your reasons," Wintrow answered, "but please understand you're hardly the only one with issues while growing up. I've had my fair share of them...and I don't usually like to discuss them either. Suffice to say...my stepmother can be compared to the stepmothers in Earth fairytales. She's right up their alley, and worse."

Alvy shuddered. "Yeah, she sounds miserable. I'm glad I get along well with my stepfather, and my sister." She took a sip from her tea. "So, what got you into piloting then?"

"Literally dropped in on the fighter wing when I was seventeen and assigned as captain's yeoman. With her approval I started flying with the wing under supervision of the wing commander. I loved it so much, and still do. Being out there in a fighter gives me such a sense of freedom, it's priceless. Same as being out in the water in my boat. What about you?"

"My dad was a cop, and influenced me to become one as well. I am a fully qualified constable in the Scottish police. But when I finished my training, I realised that being stuck on Earth is not what I want to do with my life. So, I applied to Starfleet academy. Since I already had law enforcement training, they waived some of the needed classes for the security training. That's the whole story."

"You never thought of doing anything else?" Wintrow queried carefully, unconsciously tensing for fear of the answer. "My father was a diolomat, though I don't know much about him. He was off world a lot, leaving me with my stepmother. My mother died not very long after I was born and my father remarried before I was two years old. I have a half brother who passed away when I was eighteen, and I have a half sister who, last I know, resides on Vulcan. We never really discuss her location but I know she's safe and that's all that matters." His expression had hardened when mentioning the half brother and stepmother, though he seemed a little paler. When mentioning the half sister, his features softened considerably and he had the bearing of a very protective sibling.

Alvy shrugged. "Not really, to be honest. I've always wanted to stand up for something, help defend people. But I couldn't really decide how to best do that. So, dad recommended I train as a police officer. Said that would give me future options. Turns out, Starfleet Academy has an accelerated track for qualified law enforcement officers that want to join the tactical and security branch. My stepsister is about to finish her studies to become a doctor, she's always wanted to be one. Specialises in neurology."

"I don't know what my sister does," Wintrow admitted, "but whatever it is I hope it is something she enjoys." He knew as little as possible, telling himself it was best to ensure her safety. Whether it was the best thing to do, he didn't know. "She knows all there is to know about me though, I keep her updated. I just don't want mother-dear to get any wind of her location." The word mother was spoken with so much scorn it even surprised the young pilot himself. "Sorry.... just think of me as the overprotective brother, even though she's quite old enough to decide for herself now. Which of course she does, she's not a prisoner or anything..."

Wintrow sighed softly. "Wanting to help people is a very respectable decision. And I'm sure being security will do that. But you could've become a doctor too, right? Doctors are supposed to help too "

Alvy chuckled. "Oh, I understand being protective. If anything were to happen to my stepsister, I'd go completely nuts. But no, the medical field was never something I saw myself in. Maybe I could have become a mechanic, but not a doctor." She shrugged. "What about you, what would you have become if not a pilot?"

"Probably an engineer. It's sort of my secondary job even though I don't work in engineering. I've actually never even seen the place. I've done maintenance across the ship when I first started but I've sorted of specialised in shuttle and fighter maintenance. I want to be able to fix whatever I fly. It's very satisfying, but it's flying or sailing which makes me feel free. I'm happy to take you out on my boat some time. I have a holodeck program available."

"Understandable, really. I never let anyone else do maintenance on my equipment either." With a last sip, Alvy finished her tea, and waved over the server again, before turning to Wintrow. "You want another drink, or are we good to go?"

"You can have another if you want," Wintrow offered, leaning back in his seat, "I'll just sit here and play." He pulled out his guitar and idly ran his fingers across well tuned strings. "I thought we weren't in a hurry?"

Alvy shrugged and waved over a waiter. "I saw on the menu that you have some Romulan ale. I'll have one." Even though it was certainly not one of her favourites, she wanted to see Wintrow's reaction to her order. "What are you having?"

"Nothing," Wintrow smiled, slender fingers still plucking at the chords of the guitar. Watching her, he started to hum an old tune from home. He didn't comment on the Romulan ale as he wouldn't judge and he promised not to out her without permission. "Enjoy the ale," he added with a smile.

With a nod, the waiter headed off to get the drink. "Suit yourself," Alvy said, shrugging, before turning her attention back at the guitar. "You sure they won't mind you strumming in here?," she asked, slightly tilting her head as if to point at the quiet background music coming out of a set of speakers near the bar.

"I'm sure that if they mind they'll tell me," the Betazoid answered as he tilted his head to listen to the music and adjusted his strumming to match with it. "So...why Romulan ale, when it's actually illegal to distribute it?"

Alvy chuckled as the waiter brought her a glass of pale blue liquid. "To see what you would say, really. And as far as I am aware, it's still legal." She took a sip and shrugged. "Shame I didn't bring my violin, I would have joined you."

"I did suggest that you should go and get it," he reminded her with a gentle smile. "Perhaps another time...or you could sing?" He wasn't much of a singer unless he really applied himself to it, he just liked to play. "Maybe there's a piano somewhere, and you could take my guitar." But that was clearly assuming she could handle a left-handed instrument.

Alvy laughed and shook her head. "Oh, no. You would need to get a few more of these into me before I start singing." She grinned as she waved towards her drink. "I should probably be getting back to the ship soon, still have to meet with the Captain after all."

"Yeah me too, but I reckon that can wait until morning. So...meet you tomorrow for lunch? After you've seen the captain and settle yourself in?"

"Mister Paragon!", Alvy replied, feigning indignation and raising an eyebrow. "Let a girl settle in before you start courting her!" She started laughing. "Sorry, couldn't help myself. We'll see, I prefer to be more spontaneous, not have everything planned out in advance. There's enough schedules when it comes to duty, so I prefer keeping them out of my off-time."

Features paling significantly at her outburst, he froze completely until she burst into laughter. "I'm not..." He stammered, "I mean... No, of course.." He held his breath a moment, trying to recompose himself. "I'll just be here, and you see if you can make it or not. Is that okay?"

With a smile, Alvy shook her head. "You worry too much, Wintrow. I was just messing with you a little, that's all. I know where to find you when I have the time to hang out." She pulled back her sleeve, revealing an old-fashioned silver wristwatch. "Okay, I better get going, if I want to catch the captain today. I just want to get it over with. This was fun, we definitely need to have lunch again soon."

"Soon," Wintrow agreed. "I better head back too. Go on ahead, I still have to pack away, and settle the bill." There was no way he was going to allow the lady to pay for their food and drinks.

 

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