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Pavel Chekov was surprised when Daphne Gollub came and sat down across from him at his table in Rec Room 5. Reasoning that she probably had found a new reason to yell at him, he continued to eat his lunch without greeting her.

"So," she said. "Now we hate each other?"

Chekov shrugged and continued to eat his sandwich.

"You're still mad," she concluded.

The navigator eyed his former lover narrowly as he turned this statement over in his mind. If she was wondering if he was still angry, did this mean that she wasn't?

Daphne propped her chin on her hands. She tilted her head to one side and gave him a rather wistful look. "Too mad for a good shtup?"

Chekov frowned. "When you use words like that..."

"Yes?"

"I know what you mean."

Gollub shrugged. "I assumed you did."

"And not just from context," he added.

"Uh-huh."

"And I know you're being rude."

Daphne looked at him. "Been waiting a long time to get that one off your chest, haven't you, bubbee?"

"Actually, yes."

"Feel better now?"

"Somewhat," he answered, despite the fact he didn't at all.

"Well... I just wanted you to know that I woke up this morning and discovered that I don't really hate you... And my roommate's on leave and there are eight more hours before either of us have to go on duty..." Gollub gave a small, slightly theatrical sigh. "But if you're still mad..."

Chekov didn't reply.

Daphne didn't speak either. Instead, she just allowed the sweet promise of make-up sex waft about him. Five, four, three, two... she silently counted down.

"I'm not angry," the navigator said, very reasonably.

"Okay," she said, rising.

"And I wasn't the one who started the argument..."

Gollub sat back down. "And so you're thinking that I should be making with the apology?"

"No." The navigator shrugged diffidently. "Of course not."

"Because I'm offering sex. No apology."

The Russian was silent for a long moment. When Gollub sighed and started to rise again, he burst out. "I was not flirting with that yeoman."

"Bubbee," Daffy scolded. "Yes, you were. You were flirting. You're a flirt. You flirt with women. It's what you do. You don't even think about it. You just flirt."

"Fine." Chekov put his hands up in defeat. "So I was flirting."

"And now," Gollub suggested carefully pressing her advantage, "maybe you're thinking that you're sorry...?"

"I certainly didn't mean to offend you as much as I obviously did," the navigator admitted grudgingly.

"And you might be thinking that maybe you should apologize?"

"I do apologize," Chekov said, sincere despite his best efforts not to be drawn into being so. "I truly did not mean to hurt you."

"Good." Daffy leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the nose. "I accept."

He replied with a tentative kiss on her lips.

"So," Gollub said impatiently. "Can we make with the sex? We've only got eight hours, you know."

"Well," the navigator said, trying not to smile. "If you insist..."