Closing the bedroom door, Janeway let her body lean against the wall. Her head was spinning.

It's just the gin, she reasoned, just the gin.

She took a sip of coffee to calm her nerves. The warm liquid washed the taste of his mouth from hers. She missed coffee.

Janeway looked over the dark wooden bed in the center of the modest room. Mosquito netting hung like a curtain around the four-poster frame. The bed was flanked by two large palms pushed flush against the fresh white plaster of the wall. A small desk with a burning oil lamp was under a large window with closed wooden blinds. On top of the desk were several copies of anthropological and historical texts piled neatly next to which she sat her coffee. Next to the desk was a small vanity. She ran her fingers over the delicate comes and bottles placed on the vanity's surface by a servant. Janeway lifted a vial of colorful liquid to her nose and breathed the scent of crisp lilies deep into her lungs. She put down the vial and reached to open the blinds. The same view of the city visible on the deck greeted her. Earth.

She was home. On Earth. Not her Earth, to be sure, but Earth nonetheless. She allowed herself to breathe deeply. The air was still warm from the sun of the day and the smell of the river was just noticeable over the musk of the city. She closed her eyes and imagined the smell of her childhood home in Indiana. She didn't realize how much she could miss something as inert as the air.

She backed away from the window and moved to open one of the trunks piled against the wall opposite the bed. She ruffled through the fabrics until she found a simple shift dress made of a fine white linen. Laying it on the bed, she removed her shirt and walked to the small water closet attached to the room. She let the tap run cold before splashing the water over her face and neck. Droplets of water materialized on her camisole. Resting her arms on the porcelain basin, she looked into the mirror. Her cheeks were still flushed.

Pull yourself together, Katherine, she whispered, remember why you are here. You cannot get distracted.

She reached for a towel and dried off her face and neck.

Returning to the bedroom, she pulled off her boots and unbuttoned her trousers. She slid into a light slip before stepping into the dress. Looking to the full-length mirror next to the bedroom's door, she saw the dress was rather baggy around her waist. There appeared to be loops for a belt. After digging in the truck for the missing garment, she reached for the thick belt left on the bed. Janeway synched the fabric until it showed a slim silhouette of her figure. She appreciated the support.

Glancing over her visage, she noticed her hair was coming away from the curls she had fastened on the Tardis. She moved to the vanity and ran the whalebone comb through the soft strands. She brushed her hair away from her face and applied red lipstick she found in one of the small drawers that ran down the side of the vanity. She picked up the bottle of perfume and dabbed a small amount on her wrists and neck.

There was a knock on the door.

"Kat," his voice was soft, "are you decent, darling? I need to change my jacket."

"Come in," she said, raising from the small stool as he opened the door, "I am finished."

He stopped moving when he saw her. She looked down with unusual self-doubt.

"I didn't know how formal of an affair this dinner would be," she gushed, "and so I thought this would be appropriate. Unless you think I should change?"

He didn't speak. She watched his eyes as they traced her body from her bare feet to her athletic calves, to the hem of the dress that rested just at her knees, to her slender waste outlined by the synch of the belt, across her modest chest and along her slender neck. Finally, his eyes stopped at hers. Her brow was furrowed in anticipation.

"John?" she asked again, "is this alright?"

"No, I mean yes, I mean," he breathed, "don't change a thing. You are absolutely mesmerizing."

She smiled.

"Almost perfect," he said while digging his hand in his pocket, "almost."

Janeway tilted her head. After a moment, he pulled a simple gold band from the pocket and moved closer to her. He reached for her hand and slipped the ring onto her finger.

"There," he breached, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing the ring and her finger, "now you are perfect."

He looked at her again. His deep eyes made it difficult for Janeway to look away. She offered a smile and he returned it. He leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek so as not to disturb her lipstick before moving away to find a dinner jacket and a pair of fresh trousers in a trunk to the right of the one in which she found her dress.

"Are you looking forward to tonight?" he asked as he moved into the washroom to splash cold water on his face, "to the dinner, that is. I hear the professor is excellent dinner company." He turned back to her and began unbuttoning his shirt. His face still dripped from the water.

"I am," Janeway affirmed as she tried to make her way to the door an away from the undressing man, "Professor Potts seems very agreeable."

"That he does," John confirmed, "thought I am more interested in meeting his wife, Eliza."

"Are you?" Janeway asked before she could stop herself, "why is that?"

"She is supposed to be a direct descendant of Cleopatra herself. Or something like that. Anyway, her family still owns about a quarter of upper Egypt, including two very promising sites I should like to very much to translate."

John removed his trousers and folded them over a chair that sat unoccupied in the corner. Janeway looked away only to see the reflection of his wirey body in the long mirror. His long legs were slender but with a defined musculature. His arms were strong for an academic. She couldn't help but watch. His movements were fast and awkward, but he never seemed to loose control. He made quick work of buttoning his shirt and tucking them into fresh trousers. Sensing her gaze, he looked to the mirror and made eye-contact. She quickly looked away as he smirked.

"Yes, well…" she stuttered, "… well…I will give you some privacy."

She opened the door only to turn around and walk to her forgotten cup of coffee now cold on the desk. Armed with the beverage, she retreated from the room.