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Something had changed between them.
Precisely what, Juna couldn't say but she felt it. Maybe it was the way Vorik held eye contact with her just a fraction longer than he used to, or that he no longer recoiled if they happened to accidentally touch.
Or maybe it was all just wishful thinking, and Juna was projecting her own feelings onto her relationship with her best friend.
Vorik was Juna's rock in the weeks that followed Greta's death, his quiet calm a safe haven to the emotional storm that battered her. He programmed her biosignature into his quarters security protocols, allowing her access to his room, and stressed that she was welcome at any time, day or night.
Sometimes Juna went there even though Vorik was working, comforted simply by being in his space; the warm temperature, the smell of incense and lamp oil, the robe he draped over her when she fell asleep on his sofa that she had taken to wrapping around her when she needed comfort.
She wanted so much more with him.
She was terrified to have less.
So she said nothing.
*****
Vorik requested to work on the rebuilding of the medical synthesis lab, and B'elanna had put him in charge of the project instead.
He wanted to make the space as pleasant as possible for Juna when she came back to work. Not a single workbench or piece of equipment had been installed in the same place as it had been; Vorik theorised that restructuring the lab would force Juna's mind to focus on the new layout as she worked, rather than straying to memories of her time there with Greta.
If Vorik's understanding of human grief was correct, even happy memories would cause her sorrow so soon after Greta's passing. And he would do anything he could to protect her from that.
He used the opportunity to choose what colour the furnishings were. A minor detail, but one he took full advantage of, replacing the previous dull grey seats and countertops with a light teal he knew Juna would favour.
It was all a distraction from a single inescapable fact: he had to ask Juna to be his mate.
There was no other solution to the issues that had affected him since the day he had nearly lost her. She was in his thoughts at all times, day and night; his usually dreamless sleep plagued by sensuous fantasies, and sweat-inducing nightmares.
On some level, he was aware that he was performing acts typical of a Vulcan trying to woo a mate; letting her into his space, cladding her in his robes, even his careful rebuilding of her workspace - an act of service, and a gift, to prove himself as a provider.
But when it came to declaring his intentions...his stomach knotted painfully, his mouth would dry, his heart rate would increase and his jaw would ache.
It was the last one that revealed the problem. While he knew Juna lacked the ability to dislocate his jaw the way B'elanna had, the fear of rejection, even so far away from his next Pon Farr, was very real.
He would tell her.
Just...not yet.
*****
"Oh, Vorik…" Juna gasped softly in amazement. "It's... it's like a whole different room!"
"Does this mean you approve?" asked Vorik.
"Of course I approve," said Juna, a wide smile on her face.
Juna wandered around the central island that now held her computer console, noting that she wouldn't have her back to the door when using it, something she had always disliked. The stasis cabinet had also been moved, meaning she would no longer have to turn in a tight circle from her first synthesis station to the unit, a move that had made her dizzy when done repeatedly in the lab's original setup.
She wondered if these improvements were just by chance, or if Vorik had remembered her complaints and purposefully implemented the changes. Given his excellent memory and attention to detail, she suspected the latter, and was touched by his thoughtfulness.
The second chair at the computer console gave her pause. She lingered there, fingers resting on the back of the chair. There would be no replacement for Greta. Nobody onboard had the appropriate training, and Juna was capable of handling the lab's workload herself, although she would have to cut some of her time in the arboretum to do so.
"I thought perhaps, if you ever found yourself working through lunch, and wanted company…" Vorik explained, seeing her fixate on the chair.
"You'll join me?" said Juna.
"I did not mean me, specifically. Though I would be pleased to join you if I am able, of course," said Vorik hastily.
Juna walked back around the center counter towards him, and stopped in front of him.
"Thank you, Vorik," said Juna.
"I was just doing my job," he replied.
"I'm sure painting it my favourite colour was not strictly necessary, so don't think I'm buying that excuse," said Juna, light-heartedly, before becoming somewhat sombre again. "But I don't just mean the lab. I mean everything. The past few weeks…" Juna steeled herself, trying not to shy away from the pain. "Since Greta died…I don't know what I would have done without you."
"Nor I, you," Vorik said quietly.
"You miss her too, huh?" asked Juna, suddenly feeling selfish for not considering that she did not have a monopoly on grieving.
"I do. But that is not what I meant," said Vorik. He stepped a little closer, dark brown eyes regarding her with something Juna couldn't identify. "Juna, that day - For a time, I thought you had died too. And it forced me to re-evaluate the way I think...the way I feel about you."
Juna's heart was pounding in her ribcage, and then Vorik took her hand in his, and she momentarily forgot how to breathe.
"If you will have me…" began Vorik.
"Yes."
"I did not finish," said Vorik, the barest trace of a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "I would like to pursue a romantic relationship with you."
"I'd love you. That! I'd love that," said Juna, squeezing his fingers gently.
"I believe that by human social standards, it is acceptable for me to kiss you now," said Vorik quietly.
"It is," Juna said, lowering her voice to match his.
"I...have never…" admitted Vorik.
Juna stepped closer and stretched up to press her lips to his. His response was slow and somewhat unsure, nose bumping against hers as he tilted his head to meet her, but he quickly got the idea, one kiss becoming two, then three…
Juna brushed her tongue against his lips, and Vorik pulled away, cheeks and ears flushed an adorable shade of green.
"Too much?" asked Juna, taking in his slightly stunned expression.
"Yes. I mean, no, it's... I would like to, but…"
Vorik was flustered, and Juna couldn't help but grin at his uncharacteristic stammering. She could visibly see him pull himself together, blush fading as his face dropped back to its usual neutral expression.
"It may require some time for me to become accustomed to such intimacy," Vorik said, shielding his nervousness in Vulcan stoicism.
"That's fine," Juna assured him.
"It may require considerable time for me to engage in... further intimacy," stressed Vorik. "If our relationship is to follow the typical human path of courtship…"
"Don't worry about what's 'typical', ok?" said Juna, smiling a little at the way he'd phrased it. "We'll work out what works for us. However slow - or fast - you want to go, I'm good for it. You're my best friend, Vorik. If we're doing this, we are doing this. I'm in it for the long haul."
"As am I," replied Vorik, his confidence returning. "I appreciate your patience, Juna. I do not want you to mistake my hesitancy for a lack of interest."
Juna nodded her understanding, unable to keep from smiling, and for a moment the two of them just stood in silence, looking at one another.
"You're still holding my hand," Juna pointed out.
"I am," said Vorik. He ran his thumb gently over the back of her hand. "Would you like me to let you go?"
"Never," replied Juna.